by ThursdayEnds
It was raining outside that day.
The warm orange glow of the lamp lit up the white walls. School was cancelled and Macy was quietly studying. Having an attention span of five minutes, she'd look up or start folding paper airplanes ever so often.
One airplane got off-course and the quiet music from the small living room stopped. Jeramy's head popped out the doorway and said, "Hiiiii Maaacyyy."
She smiled as he handed her the paper airplane. There it was again. A number on the back of his hand. It was a '2' this time. She used to think nothing of it, thinking that maybe he just had the habit of putting his favorite number on his hand. It took a while for her to realize it kept changing.
If now wasn't the time to talk about it, then it would never be the time to talk about it."You know, I could use some music while I study..." she said.
Jeramy smiled and sat down on her bed. He started playing his guitar in the quietest way, his singing just as soft.
And she listened. He sounded like a gentle gloomy day. "I know what the numbers mean." Macy said, not looking up from her History book.
Jeramy didn't stop playing either. "You tell me, then."
"It's Monday and you have a '2' today. It's a countdown. Always leading up to Tuesday." She told him.
He continued to play softly. For a minute, Macy thought he wouldn't say anything; maybe she went too far. "Three months." he said, "Three months of me being in this school and the only person who realized is my roommate Macy."
She didn't know what to make of that. He didn't sound condescending or sarcastic. She decided to keep quiet.
A few beats of silence later, he spoke again. Barely a whisper. "His name was Asbørn. My little brother. I lost him around last year. I couldn't go home for Christmas. I didn't know it would have been the last time I ever saw him."
Macy's heard that Jeramy lost someone. It was a casual sentence thrown around the school. Little talks, Jeramy's brother died, oh how tragic, a moment of silence, oh hey did you finish your science homework.
She didn't know him back then. A name is just a name until you see the face behind it, the person who owned it.
And he continued. She's never heard him without even a hint of a smile in his voice. "I just. Lost purpose. The psychologist told me to have little things to look forward to. Just some temporary thing to get me through. I decided it would be Tuesdays. That was the day I was supposed to go home."
She didn't know what to say. "So, uh, what happens on Tuesdays?" she asked.
Jeramy shrugged. "Nothing. I trick myself to looking forward to nothing."
The girl wondered how that felt. Living your life, looking forward to nothing. Just as good as being dead. When his brother died, maybe Jeramy died with him.
YOU ARE READING
5 Minute Reads | Anthology
Short StoryThis is a collection of short stories written by Wattpadders. It aims to bring a variety of stories of different genres, all of which can be read within 5 minutes. So, whatever style you like, we know you'll find something here to keep you entertai...