Lonely Track

Chapter 4.

“Hey it’s you again.”

He was now sitting under a tree with his heads down. Why won’t he show his face?

“Hi.” He finally said.

“So are gonna introduce yourself?” I bravely asked.

“No, I can’t.” He said, heads still tucked in between his longs thighs.

“Why?” I asked again.

I wanted to see his face. Is he some kind of an alien?

“You won’t see me again.”

I was taken aback because of what he said.

“Come and sit beside me.” He said, gesturing on his side.

I sat beside him and watched the sunset by the bay. It’s beautiful.

“Do you want to share anything?” he asked.

“Are you a mind reader?” I asked out of my curiosity. How did he know that I wanted someone who I could talk to and be my friend?

“No but I know you have lots to tell.” He said, he was now tracing circles on the ground with his finger.

“Well, I am oblivious with the world. Since then, I don’t know how it runs.” I said trying to make things sound simpler.

“Always remember that the person who have struggled the most, fought the pain, drained tears…” he started. “That person is the most beautiful and strongest of them all…”

I woke up with the freezing air in my room. Winter’s probably just around the corner. It was him again and he read my mind. Is he appearing in my dreams to help me cope up with everyday or to make me feel better? Is he some kind of a witch who can appear in dreams? Does he possess black magic? Whatever it is he has, I surely want to sleep forever and have him as company.

And… that guy.

Is it him? Will I ever get the chance to look at him closely and see if it’s really him and if he knows me? It’s killing me. I want to know. That guy in my dreams, I want to see him.

“Jane, come down and have your breakfast!” That was my grandmother’s cold voice.

Have breakfast? Peculiar.

“I’ll go down in a minute. I’ll just take a bath.” I shouted back, making my way to the bathroom.

I quickly stripped my clothes and bathed. The water was freezing so I hurried. I dressed in my long sleeves with printed hearts, black pants and black sneakers. I went down after and saw my grandma preparing breakfast. I sat down at the end chair of the table. Grandma gave me a plate with pancakes on it.

“So…” She started and I looked up. “Your paintings are posted in your school now?” She asked, it was actually more of a statement.

“Y-yeah… but my name wasn’t there of course… How’d you know?” I staggered.

“Your principal told me.” Her cold voice filled the air.

I did not say anything after that so I got up my feet and left the house. 15 minutes and I finally arrived at school. The hallway was still the same and they were still talking about who made those paintings.

Me, I made those.

Who would care if I made those, anyway? I deserve to be treated like shit because I murdered my own brother. Of course that was just self-defense, but nobody will ever believe nor listen. I am a monster, they’re right. That guy… I didn’t want to wake up every time he visits me in my dreams. It was better when I was just sleeping because no one can hurt or bother me. If I die… who would care? No one. What’s the point of waking up when you’re going to be invisible and if not invisible, you’re just a piece of shit or just a waste of space?