Liam’s POV:
Those eyes. Those set of caramel eyes that seemed to draw you in with every stare. I couldn’t get them out my head for the rest of the day. Everyone who is anyone in this school know that I’m probably the best method to lose social status; everyone ignores me, in fear of becoming ‘less popular’. Bullshit, I know, but I guess that’s a consequence of being mute: everyone becomes tentative and cautious approaching you; they don’t want to stand within a meter of you, like I was carrying some sort of plague.
I wish. Then I wouldn’t have to suffer through life and I could just die. It’s not like a lot of people are going to notice I'm gone.
But him, Zayn, the stupid fool, he came up to me and initiated a conversation, despite the clear warnings he was obviously given by his brown haired friend, Louis. It’s not that I don’t appreciate his selfless actions (well, actually, I was pretty sure he just wanted to get in my pants. Most people did, it seemed) but I just don’t feel comfortable around anyone that isn’t my mum. I’m weird like that. Well, to be fair, I’ve lived half my life secluded from social events and lived idly in the walls of protection I’ve set up, isolating myself from the rest of the world. I don’t think I’m prepared to leave those walls… not yet.
It’s not just that - I can’t afford to get close to someone, developing an attachment to someone is very dangerous, it’s inevitable that one day the attachment will get cut off and your heart will smash into pieces. I mean, look at what my Dad did to us. Zayn seems like a nice lad, I don’t want to make him experience the same nightmare I’ve lived.
Love’s like a promise: Always broken and filled with lies.
But, damn, those eyes! They’re so hauntingly magnificent and piercing that they have engraved itself into the fragile folds of my mind. Every time I close my eyes, I’m always greeted by those caramel eyes and I seem to just melt on the spot and drift off into peaceful reverie. I’m not one to slack in classes but throughout today, I could not focus; My hands wouldn’t stop shaking and I could still feel the warmth of his touch on my elbow – damn it, I can’t be afford to be thinking like that.
Come on, Liam. Love doesn’t exist. You should know better than that! Remember, it was your fault mum got hurt, right?
Ever since Zayn and my encounter, my own thoughts have been punishing me, eating me away with the guilt it elicits; however, I know it’s right. It was my fault my Mum got hurt. Even though she’s okay now, I can still hear scream in her dreams, and the sound is so frightening that every inch of comfort and joy in the house is chased away into the darkness of despair, lost and impossible to find. The house itself becomes crestfallen whenever a whimper of sadness escapes my mum’s lips; she’s always been the beacon of light and joy – for everyone – and seeing her upset just makes your heart drop.
It’s also a cruel reminder of my selfish behaviour that night: how I did nothing in my power to help her. All I cared about was my own safety. I could have done something!
What if Zayn’s the same? He already smokes and he probably drinks, too; He’s like my father. What if he hurts me? But on the other hand, he was so gentle and sincere when he spoke to me. He also knows sign language! I mean, someone can finally talk to me without making me feel like some freaky teenager who’s lost his mind.
I’ve forgotten what it felt like to be treated like a normal teenager. Even my mum has to treat me differently. She would always scold me if I ever left the house without a bag containing my pad of paper and pen, my phone.
Normally, my mum and I would spend the evening together, after school. But, for some reason, she isn’t here. I’ve spent the last hour locked up in my room, reading this novel about a girl, who’s a cancer survivor, meeting this boy in a support group and the rest of the book depicts their story together and how their love for one another blossoms. I’ve just reached the part where the boy, Augustus, tells the girl, Hazel, a secret that would drive their relationship into a dark road. I like the story, it’s not like all those other cliché stories in which love overcomes all, this one shows that death rules everything, like a predator: merciless and unexpected.
