It's Just Life

Sidney

Intro

It was a sunny day in Sydney. I've always liked sunny days, the warmer the better. There wasn't a cloud in sight and deep royal blue seemingly expanded everywhere around the sun, making the barrier between the ocean and the sky invisible. If it was night and all the lights from the city would be turned off, thousands upon thousands of stars would be seen.

The streets were full of people, their laughter and playful bickering heard from miles away. The sun was shining mercilessly down the valley of my back making small sweat pearls form at the back of my neck, and I smiled happy at that.

I always smile. It doesn't matter if I'm happy or not, just smile through everything and it's going to be alright. That's what my mother always used to say. She loved Australia -especially Sydney- hence the name she gave me. My name is Sidney. I often playfully quarreled with her about naming me after a city, especially a city which is in a different country that we lived in.

"Your name makes me love you even more! And it's not even a straight copy, I changed a letter. A letter can be a huge difference." That's what she used to tell me. I was so angry the first time I heard her say that it took literally three days for me to accept her apology.

I told her everything. I told her about stupid bullying boys in our class, about bad school food that I had to eat and even about the stupid teacher, who sent me outside the class to calm down when I got angry at my friend for pulling my bigtails at elementary school. She was my best friend. I remember my dad always calling her "His Angel", so that's what she became to my little 8- years old self. Angel. My mom was an angel, who fell from heaven and came to earth to live with dad and me. Happily ever after.

Yeah. I wish.

Atleast she looked like one.
She was small, so small, like one of those forest elves in kids stories. Her posture was always straight. I remember wanting to have such an elegant look on myself, which led to walking with books over my head from wall to wall in my bedroom. At some point I gave up and realized that I'd never look as lovely as my mother was. I can't even remember how many times I heard wolf whistles that were thrown at her when we walked by on the street. She just giggled quietly not dazed at all and took my hand in hers while slightly picking up the speed. All in one sentence she was the most beautiful person I have ever seen.

I inherited the hair from her, mine's just a shade warmer. I adored the fact that I looked somewhat like my mother.

Then she passed away. It wasn't a shock, she had had cancer over five years and doctors said that she wouldn't survive much longer. I still cried at her funeral. I cried at home. Actually, I cried the next six months non stop. After a while I felt so pathetic and miserable so I just stopped and decided to start smiling.

Still smiling I am.

Gladly my dad is still very much alive and kickin'. He lives in New York, I go and see him once in a while.

My dad is the reason why my life is worth something. He taught me not to panic about anything, and to just enjoy life. Dad himself takes that phrase very seriously, it's almost like a mantra to him. He's a hardcore hippie, and I can't say that it didn't leave any impact on me or my childhood. Life has been all peace and love for me. Dad works as a zookeeper. Yes, a zookeeper. What would you expect, he's a hippie.

I won't say anything about the fact that he has dread locks at 50 and he still wears those Jamaican- beanies with bright colors.

He likes to talk and sing to the animals, especially to the monkeys. He named everyone of them and treats them as human kids. One time he even asked me to come and sing for them, because it's apparently something that they enjoy. I spent all day singing with him until our throats were sore. I couldn't talk for a week, I didn't even go to school. It was one of those worth-to-remember days.

We're not doing that much anymore. I moved to Sydney three months ago and from what I have experienced, it's going to be interesting. People are different. Sun's different. The country is different. And I'm here all by myself. But hey, all you gotta do is smile, right?

He suddenly stopped running and disconnected our entwined hands. I halted to a stop and quickly turned to look at him. I was out of breath as panic flooded into my mind making my thoughts turn into a mushy fuzz. I resisted the urge to stop to even my breath as I ran up to him and took a hold of his hand again, desperately trying to pull him forward and away from my street. He didn't move an inch, instead harshly pushed my hands away from his. Shocked I stumbled a couple steps back before gaining balance. I felt like someone just punched me in the face. My hands were awkwardly hanging down my sides as the cold feeling of realization spread in my chest. He didn't even want to touch me. I put them together almost to a praying manner, as if that would help anything.

"What are you doing? Can we please get going?" My voice faltering from the adrenaline as I looked down the street, my eyes bouncing nervously from house to house. No one was in the small alley, but I could almost hear the echoing footsteps and the tires of black cars drawing closer, just waiting to catch me. I flicked my eyes back to Ashton, not paying attention to the stinging in my eyes. I'm not going to cry. He looked scared while staring at me, eyes wide and curly hair blowing over his eyes. His mouth was slightly agape, like he wanted to say something but wasn't able to. I didn't dare to move closer to him again, I was afraid he was going to push me away. I wasn't sure if I could handle that.

"What is going on? Who are we running away from?"

"Ashton can we please get going I promise I'll tell you later." By now I had the unwanted tears in my eyes, trying to fall down my face. I didn't let them. He stood there, cleary torn apart. He looked at my face and back at the alley. I didn't dare to move, even when I knew that I didn't have much time. I needed to leave. Now. I still stayed put as I waited Ashton to say something. I pressed my hands harder against each other, knuckles white from the pressure. One tear, just one, dropped out of my eye. Slowly it ran down my face until falling off from my jaw.

"Please Ashton. Please."