CLARE'S POV:
I am almost at the dreaded stairwell.
I am nervous, but also a little excited. I feel the adrneline pumping through my veins. Suddenly, I hear the sound of an almost forgotten song, so quiet it's almost like the ghost of a past memory.
And then it clicks.
The songs title is Mansae, by a group called Seventeen, I recall.
The last time I heard it was 2 years ago. I was with my friend Macey, talking at our usual spot, the Goodberry.
She had run away from home. She couldn't take it anymore. Her brother was with his friends, when her Dad came home. She was in the bedroom and slowly hid behind the wall.
After kicking the friends out there was... A scene. Horrible sounds echoed out of the room, tears streaking down her face, she tried to sneak out the back. But he locked eyes with her.
It wasn't the first time I had seen her face garnished with bruises and scars, but it was certainly the worst.
Her eyes we're still red, and puffy from crying, while we sat eating our FroYo. We talked for a while, about lots of thing, yet nothing at all. She smiled at me, feeling slightly better, and pulled out her phone. I smiled back as I realized what she was going to play.
She pressed start and I heard the sound of a camera reel, and knew it was starting.
Everything seemed happy, like all of our past, and present had melted away. The lady at the counter gave us an odd look, but we were to involved in the upbeat sound to stop singing.
Shortly after the song finished, Macey gets a text.
"It's from my father," she says a worried look, plaguing her face.
I frown, and wait for her to tell me what he said.
"He says he knows I'm here. I have to go or else you'll be in deep shit too," she explained picking up her bag.
"Stay," I plead, "if you go back, you know what will happen."
"Yes, but if I stay, he'll find me anyways. It's better if I go now. If he saw me here he'd never let me see you again," Macey replies sadly.
As she rushes out the door I know that even if her father doesn't know we we're here, he won't let her see me, or the rest of the meme team, again.
I see her at school sometimes. She looks at me, I look at her, but we haven't spoken since. Everytime our eyes lock, I see new bruises on her face, and hurt in her eyes.
I know it's better not to ask. It'll probably make things worse for her.
I snap out of my trance, and hear rhat I have joined along singing Mansae. I stop myself, even though the tune is catchy, look around, and find myself front of the door to the stairway. I take in a deep breath, shakily push open the cold door, and prepare myself for the worst.
YOU ARE READING
Even If. (A Meme Filled Saga)
Genç KurguEveryone knows us as outcasts. The kids who wear 'too much eyeliner'. THOSE kids, who dress different, walk different, act different, are different from the people they used to be. Sure, they're different from you, but they act as one whole being in...
