guilty of devotion - [dnp au]

1.:. space cadet // the technicolors

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will include strong language and possibly offending humor to some, it can also be depressive and/or upsetting at times! You can stop reading at any moment! Take care.

xxx

Here it goes. Or should I say, here's where the most wonderful experience I've ever faced ends.

Standing in front of the by some called posh, medieval period looking castle type of building in which I'd been living in for what feels like a century has never been this difficult for me before.

Because Mullingar Art College, with all its educational flaws and the repellent dormitory, happened to become more than just a place I so loathed based on my first impression.

My home for the past year. The gracious area, which was all these years ago altered to establish a school for those who have no place in regular middle schools – a seven storeys high college with a roof flat except for a few turrets here and there; a roof I would climb onto to watch the sky sometimes, but not as much anymore. Not as much after the occurrences in April.

Bricks both blue and grey, a large stadium in the shape of an oval down the hill, a steep cliff what could be a 5 minute walk away from the furthest atelier -- overall MAC retraces me back to a memory of watching the first Harry Potter film as a kid, thrilled by the looks of Hogwarts.

To compete with the magic school even more, Lough Owel – one of Mulingar's local lakes – can be spotted in the reflections of the curious place's enormous windows. Which is pretty.

Just pretty, because I can't afford to grow more attached to the view now.

I make a steady turn in the direction of the lake and notice two brown skinned girls dressed in yellow strolling right to it, both laughing their lungs out as they're holding hands. So innocently.

As my gaze lingers on the two intertwined, fragile hands, I begin to ponder whether it's platonic or the opposite. Theoretically speaking, both girl hips are brushing against each other, yet they never lose the hold of the other's arm. They are dating. I hadn't seen anyone holding hands like that since--

Back to the lake.

At a swimming and sailing place this crowded, especially when the sun's heating the air up like it is now, at the end of June, people swim, sunbathe, jump inside from their self brought jumping boards. Kids play in the sharp sand, make sandcastles and some annoying mosquitoes fly around and bring everyone's mood down. Couples lay on the sand, minding their business far from everyone who could be a bother, parents yell at their kids for being in the water without a swimming float, boys attempt to impress their friends--

I recall the first time I stood in this front yard lost, without absolutely anything to hold on to, like the overwhelming day was, in fact, yesterday.

xxx

september 3rd

~

- Please be good, Dan. - she proclaims, hand lingers on my shoulder. - It's just a year. Well of course, if you'll like this place, you can stay long-- I put an end to her sentence with a wave of my hand.

My otherwise exceptionally kind and understanding mother stares at me hopelessly, with heavy tears pouring down her cheeks. But why? If it makes her so emotional then she shouldn't be dropping me off here. Can tell this place stinks from only looking around.

- If I begin to like this place, you being serious? This is a disaster and, frankly, I shouldn't even be here since I didn't do you wrong on purpose. Do I truly deserve a punishment like this? I-- the running out of things to say I attempt to hide underneath a well-worked fake coughing session. She doesn't seem to notice. Or care.