"Does it ever seen like you're stuck? Like, the world just keeps going, everyone keeps going, but you can't get over this one obstacle?" She asks me, head turned toward the clouds.
God, did I ever feel like that. I've spent late nights thinking - what I'm going to do once I get to college, who would I meet, who would I become, but how could I find the answers to all those questions if I wasn't sure who I was right now? My whole life I'd been who my parents wanted me to be, but now that I was free from that, who was I? To my friends, I was a ghost hunter, a supportive friend, a horrible decision - maker, an impatient student, and a funny girl to be around. But was that it? Was that all I would ever be in people's eyes? I wanted to be more - to do more.
My response was soft. "Almost too well. I've felt that way for nearly 3 years."
For a while, it was silent. We just stared at the clouds, heads buried in the tall grass, resting next to each other. Her steady breathing calmed me, making me want to live in this moment together. I felt my answers were right in front of me - or right next to me, rather.
"Do you ever feel like life is a puzzle? And you're just missing that one piece, but you don't know where to look?" She asked. I nodded.
More silence. The wind was cool on my face, carrying her scent, as if the universe was trying to send me a message: THIS IS HER! YOUR MISSING PUZZLE PIECE!
My hand reached down to meet hers, but she already knew my intentions. Her fingers interlaced with mine, warming up my hands fast. Suddenly, I felt that warmth spread through my whole body, making me yearn for more contact. I just wanted to cuddle with her for hours, talking about our future with an exciting tone. What school we would go to, where we would buy our house, what would we name out children. But that future couldn't exist. We were bound to go down different paths. So, just for a minute longer, I wanted her to hold me. Maybe for five minutes. Maybe an hour. Maybe forever.
"It's going to be ok, right? Everything is going to be ok?" She asked me. It hurt - hearing her voice crack, her tone of voice dark and sad. I could just imagine tears building up in her eyes.
All I wanted to do was hold her, tell her everything was going to be alright, but I couldn't lie to her.
I squeezed her hand tighter.
YOU ARE READING
She
Teen FictionCamilla Blair is lost. Entering 12th grade was supposed to be exciting. She was supposed to have her life figured out by now. She was supposed to have perfect grades, just like her father. She was supposed to be a star on stage, just like her mother...
