『 Chapter Five: Benny Boy 』
THE REST OF THE WEEK seemed like the same process as the past few months of school. The most interesting thing that seemed to happen was either someone initially sings happy birthday in the cafetaria or a dog sneaks onto campus. Other than those common events, the only reason Clara continued attending the immoral entrappment that sucks one's soul was solemnly based on how she wanted a career with a salary above minumum wage. Now, there wasn't anything wrong with that limit, but the girl quickly knew how she just needed to leave the small town she lived in and explore.
It was once again the end of the week and Clara Quinn was not having it. Her legs burned as she pushed herself to finish her lap, her sides throbbing at the lack of practice. She tried to control her breathing, the soles of her shoes burning against the long, hot dirt of the track. The sun seemed to be at its highest peak and nobody could do anything about it but continue running. It seemed as if the days worsened in temperature, the humidity killing everyone's lungs and will to go outside.
"Alright crew, that's a day," the coach exclaimed. A few students quickly encased him, all asking questions and giving out excuses of missed practices to come.
The sky seemed to halt on its red and purple mixture of the sun setting. The girl quickly tried to ignore the pain at her side as she reached for her duffel bag, a smile of farewell on her lips.
She hummed her way out the gates, her usual 12 year old inner mind singing along to Selena Gomez’s Who Says. Her legs carried her weakly, but she continued walking in determination of arriving home to finish her homework. Her hand fidgeting with the strap of her bag, acting as if she was busy and in a hurry to do important things that only one can achieve if they seemed, again, determined.
After a couple of minutes of walking, a familiar rev of an engine pulled up behind the girl. Clara looked over her shoulder and stopped, Benjamin smiling widely from behind the windshield. He waved at the girl to approach, his curly hair bouncing as he excitedly signaled her. With a questioning look, she slowly approached the passenger side, the window rolled down only halfways. “Yes?”
“Need a ride, O Master of Speed Walking?” Benjamin asked, his tone playful.
Clara chuckled. “Well if you can provide me a ride, then yes, please.” The girl quickly climbed into the beat up truck, slamming shut the ancient car door. She set her duffel bag onto her lap, quickly buckling up.
“You seem over-the-top tired. Is that how out of shape you are?”
“I would like to let you know that yes, I am out of shape. But it's a perfect shape in which you can't tell if I had eight pieces of pizza or a salad for breakfast.”
Both friends laughed at their remarks, Benjamin quickly taking the quickest way to Clara’s home. It seemed a habit of his to do so, as if he wanted her home in the short amount of time they shared a ride. Though the girl always wondered why he did this, she didn't dare ask. It seemed as if she did, it could rise a self-aware feeling in him. In less than about 10 minutes, the curly haired boy had parked into the girl’s driveway, a small smile on his lips. “Welcome to your humble abode.”
“Why thanks, but I believe that's not how that saying works,” Clara frowned playfully. She laughed lightly at her teasing, her multi-colored eyes shining with content.
The boy sighed, his whole façade quickly turning solemn. It seemed that in a split second, the whole world turned less bright, the small sigh Benjamin had let escape his lips had been trigger. Clara tilted her head in concern, taken aback. “Is everything...okay?” A small whisper echoed in the small truck. Benjamin looked at the girl, as if snapping into reality.
“Yes, ma’am. Everything's a-okay,” he stated, quickly lightening up. The glint of his brown eyes almost seemed to turn a shade of blue, but Clara shook it off as a lighting issue. Her eyebrows knitted together in slight confusion, but didn't know whether to ask or remain silent.
“You seem awfully strange.”
“Is so?”
“Yes so.”
In a longing sigh, Clara took hold of her duffel bag and gave her friend a smile of encouragement. “Thank you for the ride, Benny Boy. And whatever is bugging you, make sure to have a bowl of ice cream or text me, alright?” The girl quickly got out, closing the door. She peeped her head through the rolled down window, cocking her head in finishing question.
He chuckled, nodding. “Yes, thank you for the wonderful advice.”
With a pat to the side of the car, Clara stalked off with her duffel bag in hand. She heard the old engine of the vehicle start and reverse, driving off down the street of the neighborhood. Her hand gripped the handle of her door, entering her mundane home. Everything seemed untouched since the beginning of the week, the usual clicking of a laptop missing. The girl set her bag down in the living room, looking into the kitchen to find it empty in solitude. Her curiosity sparked, wondering if her mother was home for the day. Clara walked up the stairs, the metal railing cold to her touch; unusual for the temperature that the home was. “Mom?” The girl called out, walking down the hall and scanning at the small door opening of her office. Finding it empty, she peered into her mother's room, only to find her mother's unmade bed and scattered options of clothes.
Out of town without no warning. Not surprising.
In defeat, Clara walked out of her mother's room and made a beewalk to her room. Although her bed seemed like the most comfortable mattress in the world, she urged her will to shower, eat, and finish her homework before her father arrived for her. Her hands trailed over her drawer and took the best option for the warm afternoon. She slumped her way to the restroom, quickly undressing and letting the water flow from the showerhead.
Once she walked into her shower, it seemed as if the heat she had urged to leave her simmered away. Her brown hair slowly dampened and clung to her back, letting the cool water refresh her. For a moment, she closed her eyes and felt as if there was no worry. The usual red darkness of her eyelids was all Clara could see, all up to the point where her eyes seemed shut. The cool, lukewarm water turned cold as ice, a frantic gasp escaping her lips. For a split second, all Clara seemed to be consumed in was darkness, the icy water finding a way to make her skin sting. The pang of her chest seemed to suddenly rise, her sides on fire just like when she was running. The girl groaned in pain, her mind frantically finding a way to call for help before it shut down. Her hands found the knob of the showerhead, quickly turning off the icy water.
Her hands felt the tile wall, the light of the world returning in a single blink. Everything seemed untouched and normal, her frightening moment almost a fragment of her imagination.
"What the hell?"
a/n:
yikes, yikes, yikes. What's going on?
thanks for reading pls vote i'd really appreciate it
YOU ARE READING
Pondering
Fantasi❝Death is the least of your worries.❞ His eyebrow arched, his features dark. Her expression was solemn, her gaze fixated onto the ground. ❝What should I be worried about?❞ ❝Angels with no wings.❞
