The Unraveling of Isla Rose

The Artist Under the Tree

I gently tapped my finger on the thick glass window of the car. The rain running down it like thousands of tiny tears...what now? My mum glanced at me anxiously in the revision mirror. I was getting used tot he consent looks of concern and anxiety. I didn't feel much now, I wasn't happy, wasn't sad or particularly excited about anything. I was now content to just exist. Nothing of interest had happened over the past 7 days. I had sat in the same pastel blue room surrounded but hot air balloons and animals all painted in bright primary colours while doctor after doctor, nurse after nurse had come in one after the other to check my vitals and ask the same standard questions. There was one doctor who would visit me more often than the others. He advised my parents of what had happened and diagnosed me as depressed, anxious and suicidal. This was nothing new to me. Although nothing like this had happened before I knew doctors would try and put the debilitating uselessness and hopelessness fit into a tiny box on a prescription paper. I was a common case, a statistic nothing out of the norm. What I was feeling was normal for people with this condition and can be easily fixed with a handful of pills a day. Now I am in the car on the way home my mother treating me like a tiny strand of hair that could break at any second and my dad tearing up every time he looked at me. However, as is always the case there was this one person who didn't treat me like a total nut case. This, of course, was Tom. I am not saying he didn't care or he just brushed it off as a little mistake. There were plenty of tears, sleepless nights and words whispered to each other once everyone else was asleep. But after all that, we went back to laughing, joking, flirting and teasing just like we had before. He was the breath of fresh air I had been craving so badly ever since I had woken up in that bed. I knew that things would be different and I was a little curious as to how school might play out. Apparently, the school only had a bit of an idea of what had happened and both my parents and Tom had talked to them. The school was saying very little to the students so as not to cause major uproar and gossip. Of course, it was still a school all the same and a few people had a bit of an idea of what had happened and even if they didn't they would think up some wild story to entertain themselves during maths. Once we got home I decided I couldn't stand the suffocating feeling of all the eyes on me and the forced, cheery conversation that filled every room. I told my parents I was going over to Tom's, that I was ok and I would see them later. I was relieved to leave the house and the cool, rain filled air was refreshing to breathe rather than the stuffiness of the car and hospital rooms. Once I got to Tom's he answered the door and pulled me by the hand upstairs to his bedroom. I sat on the bed and looked at him a smile dancing on my lips. He looked at me with a mixture of relief and confusion.

"Why are you so smiley? you confuse me so much sometimes!"

I laughed and pulled him over so we were both sitting on his bed with our backs against the wall.

"So I don't want to kill the vibe here but can you tell me what happened?"

I looked down at my hands biting my lip, thoughts running through my head at a million miles an hour. Where do I start, where do I end, How do I phrase this? I looked at him and said in a somewhat shaky voice,

"Ok so, it's not your fault, it's a kind of long story and I am sorry I didn't tell you sooner..."

I then went on to tell him everything. I got through most of the story staring determinedly at the bedspread in front of me. It wasn't until I got to the part about the park that I completely broke down. I could hardly finish my sentences and left him to figure out the rest. It quickly dawned on him exactly how much it had hurt me and he gently pulled me into his arms rocking slightly and sushing me quietly. I had completely soaked the front of his jumper and when I finally looked up through puffy eyes I noticed he too was crying. I smiled slightly at the cheesiness of if it all and kissed him gently on the lips tasting the saltiness of his tears. "I am so sorry I didn't realise sooner..." he said this in a hopeless kind of way and my heart ached to make it stop. I now knew that the pain I had longed for him to understand had finally hit him and I was in some ways relieved and in other ways saddened by it all. We proceeded to dry our wet faces and he changed into a dryer jumper and we stayed on his bed cuddled close and talked about all the nice things we could remember about the past few months and laugh about the letter he gave me and the times up at the beach. We kissed a lot and giggled about the first time I had been to his place, on the couch with the duvet and that time at the beach house. We joked how we would have to revisit that sometime because he,

"Couldn't quite remember what had happened..."

I rolled my eyes at this kissing him dramatically and running my hands up his thigh.

"Does that remind you of anything?" I said smiling suggestively at him.

"It's jogging a few memories." he said grinning.

I shoved him playfully laughing.

It just so happened that this weekend I was turning 17. I had completely forgotten about it what with everything that had been going on. Thankfully today was Wednesday so I would only have to be at school for two days before the weekend and then my birthday. Although it sounds selfish I was excited wondering of Tom might do something special.

School was strange the next day. I had a few people who I had never said a word to come up and have a conversation with me. Some of my old friends started talking to me again although I suspected it was purely to pick up gossip. Eloise, of course, had said nothing. I thought that today of all days I would be grateful for the company but instead found myself wanting nothing more than to just be left alone. At lunch, I managed to escape to the oval and deposited myself under the huge Japanese Maple tree. A few guys were on the oval kicking a footy around and yelling at each other while small clusters of girls dotted themselves around the oval. I was sitting there trying to think up amusing back stories for each group of students I saw when a boy I didn't recognise approached me.

"You're looking a little lonely there.."

I looked up at him squinting through the glare of the sun to try and make out his face.

"I guess my thoughts are often better company than people," I said casually. I smiled and moved to the left so that he could also sit with his back to the tree.

"I'm Adam. I started here last Monday." I was surprised by this and wondered why he had decided to start at such a random time of year. I could tell by how he was looking at me that he also had a few questions of his own as to why there was a girl sitting under a tree watching boys play football and smiling to herself.

"I'm Isla I started fourth term last year." He nodded before looking back at the boys and asking,

"Is your boyfriend playing over there?" I laughed trying to imagine Tom playing football

"No way I don't think my boyfriend would even know what to do with a football!"

He grinned and we sat in silence for a few minutes before he said,

"So what's the go? I know we both have things running through our heads and I didn't come over here to sit with you for the hell of it..."

I looked at him a little taken aback by his forwardness.

"I mean I guess so but I hardly know you." He glanced down at his hands before responding.

"I guess we will have to change that then."

We then went on to talk for the rest of lunch asking stupid, trivial questions and laughing. The next day we agreed to meet in the same spot again and continued idle conversation and I got to know him quite well.

"So how long have you been with your boyfriend for?"

I looked at him and smirked,

"Not that its any of your business but around 5 months."

I have no idea what made me trust him so readily if I'm honest it was something about his eyes. They look genuine and caring, not out to be spiteful.

"How about you? Have you got a girlfriend?"

I said this as confidently as possible but was worried it came across a little flirtatious.

"Nope, I'm a single Pringle."

I laughed and studied his face curiously. He had said the day before how much he enjoyed more creative stuff like, writing and painting. This interested me and I was tempted to tell him of how much I enjoyed writing but was a little scared of him asking to read something of mine. I trusted this guy but not that much. I was interested to see some of his paintings and drawings, after talking to him I had a feeling he would be a very intriguing artist.

"Do you want to come over this afternoon? I could show you some drawings and we could continue these conversations."

He said looking at me hopefully.

"Sure"

I said thinking I really had nothing to loose.