Their Paradox #Wattys2017

3. "Home Sweet Home."

sol·i·tude
Noun

1. the state or situation of being alone.

"Little did she know, she was aching. Drowning in her own solitude."

synonyms:seclusion, peace
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Busy cars bustle onto the hectic streets. Her shoes slap against the pavement as the sun begins to sink into the dawning sky. The air smelled of gasoline and the sound of a howling whistle rung through the atmosphere. Puddles huddled at the edge of sidewalks and cracks of the pavement designed the crumbling streets. 

The repetitive barking of a golden retriever sounded as a constant alarm in Clementine's ears. 

She passed through the white painted wooden gates and rusty metal fences. Someone had brushed broken shards of glass off the streets to avoid punctured tires. 

The backpack on her shoulders dragged her down like an anchor, slowly drilling her weight into the ground.

Gravity pulled at her as she dragged herself home. 

School had ended not to long ago, The sound of teenagers shouting across the courtyard still locked in her mind.

Yet, her thoughts were always interrupted. She wasn't a normal kid, and now, she was not a normal teenager. Of course, The situation must consider what you and/or society would define as, Normal.

One thing for sure is that her thoughts didn't stick. She was always thinking of something else, never able to concentrate. She was always planning another thing. Always rushing, seeing life as to short to stop. 

She can't waste her time talking to others. She skipped down small grey stone steps leading to her small house, which lay under an old library.

She noticed the specks of green were starting to sprout from underneath the gravel, peeking out to welcome the blissful May weather chill. 

Her keys rattled as she knocked onto her door five times, tapped the heel of her shoe onto the wooden door two times, and slid her food onto the gravel in one big sweep.

The bottom of her shoe skimming against loose pebbles and small rocks. She opened her door finally, done with her daily routine. The foul smell of liquor wafted around her nostrils. 

She slipped out of her bulky black shoes before taking off her red sweater. Her breathing was steady in her chest as she waved smoke out of her line of vision. 

"Home sweet home."

_______________________________________

She coughed as she finally spotted her mother.

"Darling, could you take out the trash later?"

She only nodded, not really expecting a nice, "Welcome home, Sweetheart."

People only care about their own blood. Clementine saw herself as just another mouth of feed.

No love included.

Love, an excuse for people to waste pointless time dwelling on others, abiding their every step.

(Love, also known as, a waste of time.)

"Then get the mail? Love you." Lies the scratchy hoarse voice.

Just a voice, another voice to neglect.

She walks across the smoke engulfed living room and heads towards her room. Her footsteps echo through the flat. Finally she reaches her bedroom. She taps her heel three times and steps into the small dwelling.

The walls are painted a pastel blue and the wooden floor is covered midway by a ragged white rug. She crawls onto her bed and turns on the air enhancer.

Immediately, fresh air is blown into the room, a slight buzz humming and she finds herself hugging the white pillow which was recently placed on her bed. 

Ever since the accident, She had been a pawn in life's chess game. She no longer had control over her piece and her world felt as if it were spinning in and out of control. A constant cycle. Hope ignited with her as she finally manages to grasp it once more, only to peek inside and really see how dull it was.

She brought her arms closer to her chest and nuzzled her face into the soft pillow.

Clementine sat in a ball, almost as if she were trying to seclude herself from the rest of the world.  

She found herself thinking about the new kid. He confused her, he looked at her with a spark of recognition in his eyes and for some reason, she felt like she knew him too.

Although if he was someone from the past, she knew she would have no chance at remembering him.

Besides, she has a new life now. Not many friends, but she has a future. She can't dwell on the past. Even it does effect her, she won't let it defy her.   

She sighs softly.

If only she believed that.

♡ Chapter End♡

Another Wednesday update, hope you enjoyed!

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☆"In my memory, it doesn't end. We just stay there, looking at each other forever." - John Green☆

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