He was an enigma,
and she wasn't.
He had many secrets,
and she had one.
He was a protector,
and she needed protection.
He had strong shoulders,
and she needed one to cry on.
He was alive,
and she was empty inside.
But he gave her that rush of adre...
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F I V E
✧
Blurry images passed by me. Winter greens, vibrant yellows, hazy blues and dark browns whipped by. I glanced through the piece of glass that was separating me from my distorted surroundings. The car was fast—not as fast as Justin's—but so fast, that my surroundings transformed into an image that looked like a never-ending oil pastel painting. Trees passed by so quickly, making me ponder about how so much goes by in a second.
Anything can happen in a second.
Every second, a woman is turned into a widow, a baby is brought into our universe, someone takes their life, and a human being is incarcerated for a crime they did not commit. As of now, there's 8 billion people and counting, living in this shit-hole. Each individual is either flourishing or suffering due to the fact that your whole life can flip, and do a one-eighty in the span of a second.
Literally, a second.
In a single second, I lost every bit of control my body ever had, thus resulting in my demise. He entered me, in a second, stealing away all of the innocence I've collected throughout my life. It took—maybe—even less than a second to upload photos of me that tarnished everything that's ever put a smile on my face.
But, in a single second, I connected eyes with a man in a crowd that was filled with awful human beings. I could have met eyes with anyone, but it was him.
And those are the seconds that I live for.
Not saying that Justin is my night in shining armor, because he isn't, and he's not allowed to be. It's just the fact that a rush of happiness was brought into my life after two years of radio silence in my brain.
My father halted his Chevy pick-up truck in front of my school. The exhaust squeaked, making my anxiety heighten. He sat there, silent and gazing out of his window, still mad about me going out the other night. "I love you. See you later," I mumbled as I opened the car door and hopped out. I paused for a second and stared at him, waiting for him to reciprocate what I had just said. Instead, he stood there, still gazing out of the window. "Close the door, Nova," he grumbled, as he took his box of cigarettes from the glove compartment. Sighing, I slammed the door shut.
I walked away, and the cold winds tangled through my hair. I pulled my jacket closer to my body, trying to radiate warmth; it was hard to tell if I was shaking from nerves, or the chilly wind. People stood outside, talking to each other in their cliques, glaring at me from all angles. Whispers floated through the wind and penetrated my ears, making me feel insecure because I knew they were about me. They always were about me.
I pushed past the front entrance quickly, trying to avoid the spotlight that everyone shined onto me. More people stood by the entrance, staring at me as if I had two heads. My father always told me to imagine everyone as if they were naked—that it would make me feel better. Although, it's hard to imagine them as naked when you know that they've all seen you naked.
