Do you know how it is to live with a false accusation? A false accusation of being the very murderer? Of being the sole reason for the parting of a family? No, you don't but I do. Have you ever felt like not breathing when there's oxygen all around...
It was only the second day of high school. Oh, I beg your pardon, let me rephrase that. Only the second day of intolerable, preposterous torture and I was going to be late. I woke up 20 MINUTES LATE. It does not seem to be very late, of course, but for a punctilious person like me, it is actually quite late. I guess circumstances have made me too scrupulous . Doing everything in time. There is already a lot out of order so I try hard to keep all possibilities of errors to the minimum.Honey, I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time. Perfectly explained. Plus if I went late to class all eyes would be on me and attention is another thing from which I'm running away these days. I needed to stay as low-key as possible.
Well, I can totally not be blamed for waking up late today. Blame my financial conditions. Last night I had been on the internet looking for a suitable job for myself. Yeah a job. An apt, complacent job with which I can afford to at least survive. Until now, I had been living on my savings. But now I had frittered away all my rainy day fund, down to the last penny. Yeah you can blame me for this. I noted down the details of some, planning to check them out soon. Sometimes I am so green with envy of my fellow teenagers who are free of such pecuniary anxieties. Who have parents to support them, to look after them. My parents were alive but I was long dead for them.
In a great hustle-bustle, I went through my rat race and rushed out of my apartment, lickety-split. I had just done with locking up my door when I heard some loud screams and sounds of someone quarreling or perhaps fighting from next-door. As much as I tried hard not to listen, I did. I could hear someone screaming. Crying. The crying of a woman. As if she was being beaten. Even imagining the very picture of it, was terrifying enough. "What should I do?", I questioned myself, "What could I do?". I was not even sure of what it was. I do not know why but I took the keys out of the lock and made my way outside the building straight to my car and drove. Was it a coward thing to do? Or selfishly cruel? All the whole time till I reached school, I kept thinking about it. I remained dubious of my decision of not doing anything. But I soon calmed myself down thinking that it was best to leave and not to interrupt. I guess. Not knowing that at school something much worse awaited for me.
Walking down the corridors of this unpalatable, poignant and crabby school, I saw Teresa already waiting for me by my locker. "Where the heck were you? The class is just going to start. Now hurry the hell up and get your ass to work faster", she said swiftly. "Hi, I'm good thanks for asking", I replied, sarcasm evident in my tone. "Okay. Hey, how are you? I'm good. Now hurry!!" She again said. Well she was definitely in a hurry. 'Under the gun' would be more appropriate. Turns out our first class was of English which we luckily had together. LUCKILY. A word that I rarely get the opportunity to use. A flash in the pan.
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"Did you hear about this new guy in town?", Teresa asked settling on the chair next to me in our first class. "Um.... No. Was I supposed to?", I asked. "He's joining this high school as well. From what I've heard he's quite manly and well.... Hot", she said grinning like an idiot, having those dreamy eyes of hers lost in thinking about the new boy. "Yeah right! I already have enough on my plate at the moment don't you think? And well being with me pits you at a risk too so. All these people stare at me like I'm some kind of a homicide, a killer, well a murderer to be exact.", I told her. She rolled her eyes at me,"I know Blue, you don't have to look at them. I'm with you. I'll always be". "I know but I'm still not sure about you being my friend though", I deadpanned.
