little blue suitcase ; e. dolan

8 : a joke

ethan grant dolan

✿   august 22nd 2017   ✿

+ 7:12am

i hear shuffling of papers around me which causes my tired eyes to slowly open. i lift my face from my elbows which were resting underneath me as a pillow. my arched back that was slouched over the wooden desk straightens slightly. i see the mess that i made the night before that was disseminated all across my bedroom floor.

"oh, dad, it's alright, you don't have to do that." i say, my voice still croaky from most likely breathing through only my mouth all night. i got up and bent down to where my dad was crouched, piling up some of the papers. "here, it was my doing, i should clean it." i take the pile from his hands, picking up more papers.

"alright, son." he stands up from the floor and sits down on my unmade bed. "i'm sorry if you heard your mum and i fighting last night."

"it's fine, dad. i agreed with everything you said anyway." i say, keeping my head down at the carpet.

"well, i know you're under a lot of pressure and you didn't need to hear those things being said about you, so i'm sorry."

"you're not the one who should be apologising." i say, looking up at him with a hint of spite, but regretting saying what i did because hearing my mum apologise to me would mean i would have to actually speak to her.

"i guess that's fair." he sighs, "well, you have school soon so get ready and i'll drive you." and with that, he exits the room, not giving me enough time to recline his offer.

+ 7:50am

my dad pulls up outside the school after a silent drive here.

"have a good day." he says as i open the door to step out.

unlikey.

"thanks, dad." i swing my backpack over one shoulder, my hand on the door, ready to shut.

"ethan," my father says before i close the door. "i love you, son."

i sort of freeze, not knowing exactly what to say. i haven't told anyone that i loved them for a really long time, and i don't even know if i'm capable of that emotion anymore.

"bye, dad." i look down, embarrassed of how pathetic it sounded. i slowly close the door and turn as he drives off.

i decide that if i dwell on it any more, i'll jump in front of some sort of moving vehicle around this place because my emotionless self doesn't deserve a place on this earth.

so i push it to the back of my mind and bottle it up like any other day and i walk up the steps to the busy building. i try my best to dodge my way through the crowds of people i have come to un-know.

+ 12:24pm

i'm surprised i've lasted this long. whenever i stay til the end of the day, i'm quite unsure of what made me stay. sometimes the days go fast, but some days feel like they're moving half the normal speed on purpose, just to punish me.

but i have made it to lunch without leaving a class with no reason at all or caused any kind of scene or tantrum.

i don't feel hungry at all, i simply take a seat at a clear table, hoping that like usual, people will be too afraid to speak to me that they just leave me alone.

it's not that i'm scary or have that cliche badass front, people are simply afraid of what they don't understand. and nobody understands what it is i'm going through so people have stopped trying to.

i pulled out my phone from the front pocket of my jeans, flicking through nothings, making sure i never once click on a social media platform or my camera roll. as i was doing so, i noticed that the loud noise pollution of the cafeteria room began to quiet down to whispers amongst cliques.

i immediately knew it was because me, it happened often. someone must've realised i was here. with a roll of my eyes, i simply look back down at my phone, pretending i had something important to do on there.

"elliot, elmira, i don't know." somebody whispers.

"no, i think her name's elora or something." says another voice.

"well, why is she crying?"

i look up at the room around me and realise that i wasn't today's subject for discussion. it was elora.

my eyes trace the room, looking for what could be her, trying to remember her from my buzzed state.

i get up from my seat when i notice a girl sitting on her own, her head rested against one of her hands. praying that i have the right 'loner', i sit across from her.

"hi."

"hey." she says, wiping underneath her eyes, recognising me from the other week. i look down at her hands as they hold a newspaper, other papers sitting around her. i know that these aren't current papers, they're from months ago.

"you shouldn't read those, you know."

"w-why?"

"because you're making yourself feel worse."

"is it's so bad that i want to know exactly what happened to my best friend, ethan?" she speaks out of desperation, her voice raising. i take a breath before speaking, wanting her to be more quiet.

"let's get out of here. these people don't need to listen into business that isn't theirs." i say lowly.

"ethan, it's my first day, i can't just leave."

"sure you can. people don't question it when i leave, they won't to you if they know you're with me." i stand up, waiting for her to do also.

"you sure have changed, ethan dolan." she shakes her head lightly, maybe even a small smile on her face.

"yeah, i grew up. and i found a negative perspective on life. it happens." i say with a straight face, yet her smile grows wider, a light chuckle too. i didn't intend to make a joke, or at least what seemed like a joke. and if it was, it was the first i had made in a really, really long time.

+

not so good but hopefully the next one will be better

aND THIS IS DEDICATED TO BELLA ohheybye1 because she's so so supportive of this book AND HER BOOKS ARE EXTREMELY UNDERRATED AND UNDERAPPRECIATED so go give her some larvv