CHANGE

•CHAPTER 2•

The slow ticking sound of the clock seemed to get surprisingly louder as the seconds effortlessly passed me by.
7:07am was displayed on the front face of the clock I had bought with my ex boyfriend Kyle, a few months ago. Now it hung in the kitchen of our loft.

So pointless.

That's how everything seemed to be for the past few months. Pointless. Waking up, going to work, then home again.. all for what? Money? A life?

I silently sighed as I tipped off the burnt out ashes of the cigarette I was currently smoking. The dim,hazy, burnt sienna colour slowly flooded our kitchen room while the shadows of the night seemed to disappear. Circling the rim of my coffee mug with my index finger, a tear or two escaped my eyes. I couldn't help but take another deep puff.. only to let out smoke before I began to cough uncontrollably, yet once again.

Without noticing my friends entrance, her voice interrupted the silence of the early hours of the morning. "You have to stop" she said clearly while strolling past me, towards the fridge. Ignoring her comment, I got off the high stool that I was sitting on and made my way upstairs with my cigarettes and coffee mug in hand. "It's going to kill you" she yelled from the kitchen as I continued to ignore her.

Making my way to my table, I placed my mug down and turned towards my closet, while simultaneously taking another deep breath of nicotine. Exhaling the smoke, I grabbed a pair of leggings and my oversized 'Harvard' jumper.

This wasn't mine. It was his.

Not Kyle's, but my older brothers. Being a student at Harvard, was his dream. It had been since he was 7. Being fortunate enough, his dreams were going well until this opportunity, as well as his life, was all snatched away from him on May 22nd at 8:44pm.

He was knocked down and killed instantly.

At the time of this life altering event, Kyle was a major influence of positivity in my life and helped me get over the loss of a best friend, a inspiration to all, a brother. But now he's as dead to me as the ashes of the cigarette I was smoking.

I recently began to develop a deep-root hate for Kyle since he had gotten himself into a relationship with an old friend of mine. Jasmine. I was never the jealous type, but seeing him move on so easily after being together with me for three and a half years, hurt.. hurt like a bitch. But I was confident that I was going to move on, and become a better person from this tragedy that was sooner or later inevitable in my life.

-

"One decaf coffee coming up" I exclaimed as I turned to place the slip of paper in the pile of orders that weren't being taken care of. Before I had the chance to turn around and jot down another order, my boss stood in front of me and requested that I would be more enthusiastic about my work, and how it will attract customers to our coffee shop. Personally it didn't matter because the place was already popular enough, and had more than two hundred customers a day placing orders to go or to lazily stay. Agreeing to his request, I made my way back to the till only to be greeted by a tall, well defined featured boy, who had the most perfect tanned skin I had ever seen in New York all summer long. His eyes, glowing a milk chocolate brown, stared into mine. His voice then awkwardly spoke. "Can I get a regular coffee to go please, hold the skimmed milk but I'll have the sugar please" I nodded as I continued to stare at his god-like face. Shifting his weight from his right leg to his left, he took out his wallet and placed a $5 bill on the counter before coughing. "Make that brown sugar" he said politely. Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, I noticed that people were staring at me, which then only caused me to go red in the cheeks. Turning away from him, I placed a blank order in the pile.

Roughly fifteen minutes passed and the tall boy was back. "Excuse me" he beckoned. Just as I was going to make my way over to him, my boss stepped in, and that's when I knew I messed up. With a few nods and at least three apologies. My boss informs me that I've the rest of the day off, advising me to get some rest before tomorrow's work shift.

-

Throwing my jumper on the railing of our stairs, I sluggishly dragged my feet up the stairs and into my room for the second time today. Inhaling a deep breath, I flopped backwards into the pile of sheets and blankets in my bed. The last thing I said before I fell into a sleep was. "It's going to get better"

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