Paper Cuts (COMPLETED)

Chapter Thirty-One: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

"Mum!"

No response. I pulled on my jacket and hitched the waistline of my pants higher over my hips as I sighed in annoyance. I ran down the stairs, thumping my feet loudly.

"Mum?" I called again.

"What do you want?" She called from far away. I swung around the bannister at the bottom of the stairs and marched out the back and into the garden.

"I'm going to the park with Shiloh," I said, shielding my eyes against the bright sun. Mum sat at the garden table with a cup of tea in her hands.

"Who's she again?" She asked. I frowned.

"Mum. I've told you this a million times," I groaned, "She was new, but not anymore."

Mum made an 'ah' sound. "Oh, that's right," she said. "She's lovely."

"Yep." I made to turn back inside so I could leave. I'd miss the train at this rate.

"Sarah," Mum said, and I turned back around with a sigh and a stamp.

"What?"

"Don't give me that tone," she scolded, and then her scowl eased. "I just wanted to say that I'm glad you have a friend now."

"Harry and Matt are my friends," I said. Mum screwed up her nose.

"They're boys," she said, as though that was explanation enough. "They don't count."

I made a face.

"I have to go now," I said.

Mum put down her tea, "I can take you."

I was taken aback by the offer. The only person she carted around was Simon. Never me or Lewis. "Seriously?"

"Mhm," she said, and walked inside to get her keys.

--

Shiloh tapped on the railing of the bridge we stood on, and sneezed. The sneeze shook her whole body, and she flipped her head back, gasping for air and sniffing.

"Bloody spring can suck my-"

"Same," I agreed.

"I know you finished telling me this weeks ago," said Shiloh, "but you never mentioned what Clara's suicide has to do with all that happened."

I shrugged, leaning my back against the railing as I faced her, "I'm not sure I know, to be honest," I trailed off, and shrugged again, "I don't know. If I had to guess, I would say that her earlier mental illnesses caught up, but I don't want to speculate."

"That's fine," assured Shiloh.

"Thea said it was my fault, but..." I shook my head.

"Don't think like that," Shiloh said, "that's awful to put it on you like that. Nobody can be blamed for what she did. It sucks to think of it like this, but it was all her in the end."

I shrugged again, feeling the familiar sadness sink down on me as it had every time I thought of Clara.

"Let's go," she said, and I followed her off the bridge. We crossed over into the city, and meandered our way through the thick weekend crowds towards the Strand.

Spring had truly sprung in London. Pink blossoms covered the branches of tree-lined streets, and the sun warmed the skins of people as they bustled closer together further into the city centre. The air was still cold, but the sky was blue and clear for one of the first times since September last year.

I let Shiloh pick out clothes for me, secretly dying to have her sense of fashion. She picked out two shirts and held them up.

"These both would look alright on you," she said, and pouted at them. "Which do you like?"