Floating In The Sky

Chapter 21

"Kyle?" I saw his triangle face, tanned skin, which used to have freckles. His almond-shaped, chocolatey brown, warm eyes which used to look large due to his glasses. His thin lips remained the same as always. His untamed auburn hair which once was neatly brushed. His muscular body which used to be skinny.

"Willow, I wanted to meet you. Where were you?" He said.

"I-I" I started to stutter as a wave of memories hit me. 'I need to go," I backed away from him and went to find Justin. I need to find him as soon as possible.

My eyes filled in with water. I saw him examining a shirt. "Justin, I need to go home." Tears made my vision hazy.

"Is everything alright?" He asked worriedly.

"I feel sick." I lied and covered my eyes by clutching my forehead. "My head aches."

"I can drop you home." I nodded.

+++

I rushed to my room and locked the door. I leaned against the wall and melted to the floor through its support. I sobbed loudly as everything came back. Anger also found its way with tears.

I stood up and punched the door, rapidly. Thank God, Tiago wasn't home. "Why. Did. You. Do. This. To. Me," loud thuds were heard with every word. "Why? Why?" I screamed. My knuckes were turned into dark purple and were slitted with dry blood surrounding them.

I went to the washroom to wash off salt and water from my face. The knuckles stinged as water came in contact with it. My wounds are more painful than this. No one can mend them. No one.

To calm myself I texted Justin:
Willow How was the gift?
Justin It's spectacular
Justin Thanks. You made my day :)
Willow No problem ;)
Justin Are you feeling okay?
Justin What had happened to you?
Willow Yeah, I am feeling fine.
Willow It was a migraine.
Justin Take good care of yourself
Willow I will. Bye. Jerk
Justin Bye. Sunshine.

Someone knocked on my bedroom door. I got up from my bed and opened it, just to see Tiago. He seemed happy. "There's someone who wants to see you." He smiled widely.

"I will be down in a minute." I shut the door and fixed my hair.

As I came downstairs, I heard laughs from the living room. I entered the room and saw him.

Kyle was talking to Tiago. Anger and sadness both came rushing inside me. My heartbeat and breathing became fast paced. "Hi, Willow. I didn't get to talk to you earlier. How are you?" I sat on the couch infront of him.

My hands were into fists ready to punch him. I cupped my knees to keep them in control. "I am fine. How are you?"

"Never been better." Tiago walked out of the room leaving us both alone.

"You have changed so much."

"Yeah, I have and you have too. So you still beat up the bullies?"

"I do. My favourite past time. Do you still wear glasses?"

"No I don't. I hate them."

"I see that you have been working out."

"I have, and I think you need some meat on your bones." I look at myself. "You have become really thin."

"I have. How is your life in Chicago?"

"It's been well. You?"

"Great." Then, silence enters inside the room.

"I have to go now. Mom would be worried." He stood up and made for the door.

"Tell, her that I have said 'Hi'."I told him. He nodded and I closed the door.

+++

I searched my closet for my diary. My room became a mess as huge piles of clothes were laid on the floor. I found a box and took it out. I cleaned my room and emptied it.

A brown notebook fell out with another small purple box. I skimmed my fingers on the letters, "LAST YEAR". I took the book and box, climb onto my bed and took a walk down to memory lane:

August 21st, 2013

I was sitting in the cafeteria having my lunch as usual as I heard a wicked laughter.
I looked, behind me, a bunch of boys were bullying an another boy. I got up from my seat and walked to them. I punched the person in his stomach as he groaned in pain.
He was taken to the infirmary by his friends. I crouched down to the boy. He had auburn hair neatly brushed to one side. Dark brown eyes underneath the glasses. Thin lips. Fair skin with freckles sprinkled in his cheeks.
He was collecting his books from the ground. I helped him. He didn't even say 'thank you' and walked away. I was so pissed off.
I looked at the floor where lied a feather pen. I picked it and brought it home. I will hopefully return it to him.

I lifted the lid of the purple box and took out a feather pen. A dried, black, pointed tip. Feather was white which had now turned into a dull grey. I brushed the feather against my fingers. It was a delicate treasure of mine.