look I don't even have time to do an author's note. This is one of my stocked chapters. So give feedback I guess.
I hope you enjoy it, I've gotta skidaddle and do uni work -.-
All love, ruth (more or less) x
Words: 1,041
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DALILEH WAS NEVER a participant of the blame game.
That is until the guilt swallowed her whole and left her drowning in liquid tar. Omar's death causes her to point fingers at the influencer's of her choices. The people who brought her angel-like soul to the bottomless pits of chaos and destruction.
However, despite the tedious activity she's partaken in so as to relieve the weight on her shoulders there have been constants. Melanie is one of those constantly blamed figures within her mind. As she stands in the change rooms near the gymnasium she can hear the girl's taunting voice. She's taunting her name. Dalileh. A slut and a murderer. How suiting. Fear begins to climb onto the walls when a girl catches sight of her.
Dalileh has the whispers of a smile playing at the corners of her lips as the girl's laugh silences quicker than she blinks. How suiting, a gossiper gone silent. The girl seems to tap the figure beside her and suddenly there's a ripple of silence around the room. She sits down on the bench next to her locker nonchalantly untying her shoes and whistling.
It's an instant later that Melanie rounds the corner and is standing in front of Dalileh. "What would you like Melanie?" Dalileh asks as she continues changing. Knee high socks with midnight blue shorts and a sky blue shirt; necklaces sparkling slightly in the light. She flips her hair downwards in order to tie it up; the girl can sense Melanie's frustration bubbling ever so slowly in the meantime. And it provides a wicked sense of satisfaction that she's causing such emotions to stir within the guilty.
Standing with her hair tied she waits patiently. But Melanie's next move is unexpected. The girl harshly shoves Dalileh over the bench and onto the ground. Dalileh's breath is knocked out the moment she feels the air whoosh around her. She violently coughs when her back hits the linoleum floors but as the girl attempts to sit up Melanie pushes her back down.
Dalileh's coughs get harsher and more jagged, rougher on the edges. She ends up on her side in attempts to catch her breath and her eyes brim with tears as she does. A girl approaches her under the glare of Melanie and hits her back with her hand. Another girl brings water to Dalileh's mouth forcing her to catch her breath.
Melanie only watches with an automatic blanket of fear covering the rest of the girls in the room. Some have left in a hurry; not wanting to be involved in the melodrama occurring.
Dalileh's breathing has levelled out by now and she looks back at Melanie. Her thoughts are consumed with the fact that she's looking upwards; it creates a sense of weakness. I blame you. Fury creates her next words with a rough and cracked voice, "I will always blame you." Dalileh stands shakily before continuing, "You deserve to have murderer tattooed on your forehead." She walks forwards until she reaches Melanie and says, "Because if I murdered my brother then you murdered me."
Behind them the girls have discreetly left without any words. The bell rings sending tremors through the walls and rising tension between the two girls. They glare at each other, until Melanie grabs her things and leaves as the last ring from the bell ceases. Dalileh stands with her fury untended to. It simmers on the surface with unquestionably hot tears washing down her face.
She is burning. Burning with blame and being unable to pass it off to anyone else. Nonetheless, Dalileh had been murdered by Melanie in the sense that every version of herself had been tainted like the effects of a nuclear explosion. The girl with shaking fists violently walked to her classroom after she collected the marred pieces of her face and rearranged it accordingly. Patches of the truth remained underneath.
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She sits in a classroom waiting for the bell to ring. Her teacher discusses The Great Gatsby as a piece of literature; picking it apart like meat from a bone.
However, the words travel right past Dalileh's ears in muffled English. Her focus is on the memories reeling through her mind. Hazy moments of lines of powder on a kitchen tabletop; Melanie's hair blocking the view as she snorts up a line. It's swift and Dalileh sees her posture become calmer. "Come on it won't hurt. If you don't like it you don't have to take it again" Melanie tells Dalileh with a soft yet eager shine within the irises of her eyes.
They're darker than hers; a deeply saturated mocha. Her pupils quickly dilate and it partially scares Dalileh. She bites her lip nervously before nodding, invisible to the whirlpool that is forming. Melanie stares at her all night from afar but her vision's blurred. The world is coloured weirdly and Dalileh feels as though she captures every moment with slow camera shutters. Simultaneously she feels energy in every fibre of her bones with happiness injected in her veins. She talks to anyone who attempts to speak to her and moves along to the bass trembling through the ground.
Dalileh's body finds itself captivated by another's presence; she's walking towards a room with his hands on her face. There is nothing but laboured breaths and him touching her as though she is a goddess. But she is a goddess high on lines of white powder and it burns her to the ground when she awakens the next morning with her lips chapped. Her mouth is dry and she feels thirstier than usual as she comes to the realisation that she is not in her own bed.
The ache in between her thighs becomes noticeable and her breath catches itself in her throat. She doesn't feel like a goddess in her body. And the feeling has laced her soul and body from that day. It still traces her heart as she comes back to her presence in English class and the discussion being carried concerning religion within the Jazz Age.
Dalileh looks over to the other side of the room where tightly curled hair flows around Melanie's shoulders. And inside her heart a voice still whispers 'I blame you'.
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