Safety Pin ; Cielois

Chapter 17 - Goodbye Agony

3 years ago , Highgate Private School , London.

Alois' POV

I think what hurts the most is the passing of Luka.

I am told reassuring words. I am told that everything will be fine, that everything will eventually return to order , that it won't hurt as much anymore someday.

But the pain remains at the bottom of my heart , in a permanently half-closed wound that is still bleeding.

This is a wound that is well present in me, inside my flesh, flowing in my veins , branded on my scarred skin, to prevent me from forgetting.

When I get up in the morning, I think about what Luka would have done at my place . I wonder how he would hace reacted to different situations, what he would have said in moments of doubt and profound sadness , if he would be proud of me.

He should have lived instead of me. He was worthy of living.

I think the second thing that hurts the most after that , is myself. Feeling like I'm never good enough , always hesitating to make a decision, never being satisfied with myself , being constantly tired of fighting against demons that haunts me, hurting myself in an attempt to shut out all the voices in my mind.

I am not used to complaining nor trying to arouse the pity of others. I never wanted to be looked at or treated differently. I'm not an attention seeker . I flee attention , on fact .

I don't want to read the sympathy in their eyes if they learn that I am sick and that a crisis can arise at any moment. All I wanted was to have friends with whom I could be myself.

I am accustomed to the harsh words thrown to my face, to the insults uttered in the corridors or on the street, to being pushed around and shoved by every human being and to being taken for a punching ball by my comrades. It's been going on for years, I can take it.

I never make a sound when they persecute me. I keep mute and suffer in silence. It's not like I don't deserve it anyway.

My life is unbearable, but the worst thing about it is the loneliness. I used to have Luka but now ... I had nobody , no friend to occupy my week-end or prevent me from sinking into the dark.

But who would manage to befriend the wimp ? Nobody. Nobody wanted to . I am too unstable to have any friendship. It's like it's written on my forehead.

The day is passing at a leisurly pace . I am under the impression that someone is having fun slowing down time to make the torture of school last longer.

The classroom I am in is unusually silent, so silent you could hear a fly fly. The heads of my comrades are leaning over their paper, frantically writing responses to the algebra test we were given.

I should do the same, but I find myself dreaming again, head in the clouds.

I don't see any interest in completing a sheet of questions that I don't care about and that won't bring me anywhere.

I rather daydream of a better life. I try to erase from my mind the darkest memories and replace them with happier ones .

Those in which my father beat me to the point of blood, those where they defiled me, the words he said to me , the death of Luka , the hours spent vomitting , the days in the hospital ... I confine them in the darkest corners of my brain.

Instead I replace them with my mother smiling warmly at my father as he puts his arms around her waist . I imagine their love for me and Luka . The joy that should have filled the rooms, the laughter that would resonate without stopping in the corridors , the games we'd play together on week-ends.