The Days Of Kelsea's

(11) Demi - Surrealism

(11) Demi - Surrealism

"Late," Mr Aimes exclaims as I dart through the door. I ignore him as I slide into my seat beside Maycee Rawle.

Were we really once excellent friends? Whenever Kelsea wasn't their I would love her and Sienna's company. How can everything go wrong like that in just a few months?

I try not to look at Maycee twirling a lock of her black, curly hai around her forefinger as the maths lesson begins. People should think more carefully about where they sit at the beginning of the year in this class. Mr Aimes doesn't let you chance places the whole year.

Should've known.

Should've sat next to someone I didn't know. So that I wouldn't have to deal with Maycee's stares. But then again, i might of ended up knowing that person too. And everyone I seem to end up knowing eventually doesn't want to know me anymore.

these days, sitting in these classrooms make my head spin. My heart ache.

"Eleven more minutes exactly!" Kelsea would whisper. Back then I though that class went on for years. It feels like milleniums now.

-

End of school. My report card is tucked away in my bag. Last year I would have been DESPERATE to read it. Now it's no big deal.

Walk past some hooded guys under the main doorway. Smoke everywhere. Smoke always made me shake.

I don't feel the effect now.

I don't feel anything now.

Smoking kills. So does heartbreak.

Past the smokers. Out of the school gates. Down, down, down the hill.

Every journey I take feels like a death march. No more music. No more sunlight. Even though it's there. Then again, it's not, because I don't feel it.

Nothing's there if you don't feel it.

-

Home. Mother's calling from the kitchen. She wants to see my report card, the little voice inside my head is a monotone these days. No longer madly excited. About anything.

I feel dead inside. Did Kelsea feel this too? Did Kelsea have so many questions, like me? So many that the only way to stop herself from going insane was to become immune to emotion?

That's what's happening now.

Giving mum the report card. My insides are frozen. But my head feels as though it's slowly melting. Hands shaking.

Starting to back away. Can hear mother's voice but nothing, nothing, NOTHING she says makes sense. Heart pumping boiling blood through my freezing veins. Groping for the side of the counter because suddenly, the pictures on the wall are turning upside down. The ceiling is underneath my feet.

And the ground comes rushing up eagerly to meet my face.

-

Bright lights. Frantic voices. I groan and roll over.

It's the end.

I wouldn't care if I had died. I don't want to find out where I am.

My eyelids are too heavy. Fading. Away.

-

Lying under soft covers. Voices downstairs. Clock - 23.41.

Dark now. I'm hungry.

Hungry to find out what happened. What will happen. Only one way to.

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