In a matter of minutes, perhaps seconds, I could be gone forever and I wouldn't even know it. I wouldn't know anything. What a waste of everyone's life.
I saw Ashley's veins bulge and her face flush before drawing in one last and final breath.
I shi...
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Peggy was getting a piercing in a store down 8th Street, Emily and Sin-Jun were inside Miss Al's dressmaking store checking out prices of already-made outfits they'd never buy and I was seated on a wet lovers' bench in front of Mr.King's grocery, taking passers-by in as if I'd been contracted to do so.
I'd always been intrigued by people. Why they acted the way they did, what made them happy, what motivated them in life, what their fears and insecurities were, who they were crushing on, their sex lives.
A young woman in a long faded dress with a white collar strolled by, a small woven basket in her hand. She offered me a polite smile which instantly filled my heart with warmth.
I crossed my legs and started singing Adele's 'Chasing Pavements' under my breath. I loved Adele. I thought of her songs to be romantic and full of passion.
Some minutes later, I saw Chelsie, Oprah and Sally coming up the street. Chelsie was pushing Sally's wheelchair whiles Oprah appeared to be chirping happily about something.
Chelsie and I weren't exactly friends, more like mere acquaintances. We'd been sitting partners back in first form and we'd been friends then. But for no particular reason, we'd stopped being close once we'd gotten to second form after our classes had been reshuffled. She knew of Roman and I being pen pals because I'd personally begged her into not revealing who I was to him. Surprisingly, she hadn't seen my plea as weird and even if she had, she hadn't shown it.
On the other hand, I'd never ever been friends with neither Oprah nor Sally. They were both sweet and friendly alright, but we just weren't friends. Oprah was black, had a rich dark chocolate complexion and thick brown afro hair which she always wore in a neat ponytail. She was beautiful, but her beauty wasn't as cute and innocent as Chelsie's. Hers was sharp and intense, sexy.
The youngest senior in Saint Margaret was Sally. She was sixteen, wore braces and had a small polish accent which I used to envy greatly back in first form. Her short black hair was relaxed and fell just below her neck, making her look like one of the ragdols in Miss Al's shop.
"Hey Claire," Chelsie greeted first before Sally and then Oprah.
"Hey."
"Have you been sleeping? You've got all these sleep lines all over your face," she said with a grin.
"Really?" I brushed my palm over my face as if that would somehow get rid of the lines.
"You look tired, Haven't you been sleeping well?" She looked worried for a moment.
That was the one other special thing about Chelsie which made me feel insecure about showing Roman who I truly was. She was way too nice and spoke with such graceful effortlessness which made me nervous anytime I was around her.
