Say Goodbye (Dan Avidan)

4 - Distract Me

Chloe used to say that the stars in the sky at night were a compass, and if you read them just right, you could read out your destiny, and maybe even follow it. She used to say a lot of crazy things like that. One night, she even went as far as naming thirteen different constellations in the night sky, as we lied awake on my roof, too high from a sugar rush of a mix of chocolate and candies to fall asleep.

"There's Polaris," she announced, pointing to a random set of stars in the sky. "That's usually used to display the direction of North."

I squinted my eyes, giving the impression that I could see what she was seeing.

"Oh yeah, I can see that."

But the truth was, I hadn't a clue what Polaris is or was.

And Chloe could always see right through it.

"No, you can't," she would smirk, all knowingly. "You can't even point out The Plouge."

"Well, sorry, but when you stare at the sky long enough, all the dots kind of start to look alike."

And then she would punch my arm. Hard. But we'd both be laughing in the end, and that's always what made those nights so special. We had a bond, something that I didn't have, nor had I ever experienced. I could never confide or share a secret with anyone better than what I could with Chloe. She had this way of making everything seem less serious that what it actually was, and sometimes that would make me feel better. But if that didn't work, she would rapidly change the subject to something ridiculous. Something to help me take my mind off things, to distract me from the problems in my life.

Now, what did I have when my distraction was nowhere to be seen, or heard from, especially when they had been missing for four months, and fourteen days now? I didn't have anything to distract me from this.

I wish I didn't take advantage of the distractions that I had when I had them. Chloe was always there for me when I needed that. It could be late at night, it could be three in the morning, it could have been during an important test, but she was always there. She was the afternoon shows you watched when you got home from school because you just didn't want to talk to your parents as soon as you got back. She was the nice crossing guard who still stopped the traffic, even if it was just you that was crossing. She was the girl who made everything a little more manageable, a little sweeter in my life. I missed her smile. I missed her laugh. I missed everything about her.

Where are you, Chloe?

I jumped at the light sound of tapping on my bedroom door, and for a brief moment, I returned back to reality. To the dark edges of my room, where every light was shut off and I couldn't see the floor, even if I squinted.

"Come in," I eventually called out, and the door opened on it's own.

There stood my mother, with a hand towel drying her fingers, her dark blue apron stained with flour, and her curly hair in messy ringlets around her face. Another late night at the bakery, so it seemed.

"Just checking in, to see how you are," she spoke with a careful tone like she was treading on eggshells with whatever she spoke.

I looked to her as I shrugged. "I'm okay."

"Really?" She asked sternly, folding her arms across her chest. "Because I got a call from your English teacher. Again."

I cringed at her sudden change in tone. It was true. I was failing. More than one class as well.

"Leigh, this is getting ridiculous," She began to speak up, as she pushed back a strand of her hair. "It's been like this for months now. Don't you care that your grades are suffering?"

No. I didn't. But I didn't tell her that. It was just an argument waiting to happen. For the first month of Chloe's disappearance, my parents had been understanding about my depression. Now, three months later, they say it's gotten out of control. That I don't care anymore, that I'm failing over something pointless.

Oh, how I wanted to yell when they used to word 'pointless'.

Mum sighed, taking note that I wasn't going to reply to her question.

"Fine. Be that way," she smacked. "But, if I get another call, from your English teacher, or any other teacher, we're going to be taking serious measures against this. Do you understand?"

Again, I didn't answer.

Again, she sighed, frustrated. Right before she slammed the door to my room.

It didn't make me jumped as much as it used to, but I had grown so used to it that I didn't even budge when it happened anymore. It was obvious where my parents sat in terms of Chloe's disappearance: they would let me heal only until they deemed it right to pull me back into the real world.

But the real world, from what I had learnt over the past four months, was nothing but cruel, unforgiving, and (dare I say it) pointless.

That was the word that the cops used when they gave up on the investigation. That was the word the teachers used when they replaced Chloe's seat in class with a new student. It was what they used on the news when they broadcasted her disappearance, and it was what my parents were using when it came to my state of despair. No word could upset me more than that word. But I didn't need to think about it. No one had used it in a while, and that made me a little less upset. For Chloe, a word like pointless would have made her cringe. She liked to believe that anything was possible. She was so positive-driven, it was what made me so happy to have her around.

Sighing deeply, I leant my head back against the window frame. Staring at the stars was a good way to distract myself from the events that had unfolded, and I would try to study up on as many constellations as I could in order to find them all. But sometimes, even studying the stars could never help all of your problems, and tonight, it just wasn't doing it for me. No matter how hard I tried to find Aries, my mind would just go back to the nights Chloe and I spent on my roof. I couldn't concentrate on anything else.

I placed my feet softly on the carpeted floor, looking around in the dark for my shoes, and my jacket, and a beanie that would cover the large amount of hair atop of my head. Tonight, I decided to go back to the school, and sit outside. I'd probably get a better view of the stars from there anyway.