Puppetry - P.JM. [ON-HOLD]

Sixteen

I gathered all my books up, watching my ink-stained hands pick up the leather notebooks. Little designs danced along my arms, making it look like I was an affluent. I didn't care much at the time. I just liked to doodle. I thought it was completely harmless.

I saw someone come to the end of the metal table, standing and waiting for something. They were taller than I, but I never thought of that as much of a threat. I knew I was tough. I knew I could stick up for myself. I was a naïve, teenage girl. I didn't know much about the world. Even of how smart I was, I was still ignorant.

Sliding my notebooks into the cloth bag I carried around with me, I placed it on the tabletop. I finally looked up, a smile planted on my face. It suddenly dropped at the sight of what was in front of me.

It was that guy that was a year older than me, always being annoying. He was tall, a bit lanky. His black hair was a bit messy, his big, dark eyes looking down at me with seriousness for once. He was always messing around, always grinning as he poked at me. It always made me mad. He always got on my nerves.

About a week ago, he had gotten a tattoo along his right arm, somehow snaking up to the left side of his neck. It depicted nerves, his enlightment shooting through them. He wore the school's shirt, long sleeves covering the large tattoo. He wore denim for pants, some fake blood smudged across them from the day. His hand was slightly against the table, his fingertips pressed against the top of it.

I gave him a frown, my hand reaching around and sliding into my back pocket. My other hand was placed down on my bag as my head was tilted to the side, almost is a cocky manner. "What do you want?"

"I would like your opinion first, but I would like to talk to your father about bringing you out to have a date," he stated, no smile in sight. "I just wanted to pass the question by you before I talk to your dad."

I felt myself freeze up a bit at the request. Out of all the annoying comments he could come up with and come talk to me, he came up with a serious question that related to me in a way that I had no form of understandment? I felt my mouth hung open a bit, words wanting to form, but I couldn't seem to make anything out of it.

He watched me for a moment, waiting for some sort of answer. "Is that okay with you? I was just asking because I sometimes feel as if someone needs a say in their own actions."

I could finally spit out a word. "No."

He seemed a bit taken back by my sudden use of communication. My voice had come out, sounding a bit harsh, but I didn't really mean it that way. Regret suddenly kicked into my gut.

"N-No, I'm sorry," I hurried, grabbing onto the strap for my bag to hang it over my shoulder. "I just can't."

"Was it something I said?" he asked, his voice sounding a bit hurried like mine. He raised a hand up and buried it into his hair nervously. "I just wanted to see if you would go out with me one night. You know, to get to know each other. Nothing would happen."

I threw the strap on my shoulder, pulling the bag off the table. I shook my head, starting to walk off. "No."

As I started to walk away, I felt his hand grab onto my wrist gently. It made me freeze in my spot. Looking back at it, it was never in a threatening way, but it had me in a freeze of shock. That shock kept me from thinking complete thoughts or having any sudden instincts. That was the first time I ever felt weak in my mind. Perhaps it was even the thought of a feeling I had never come over me: a form of a slight romantic bond.

"Tell me if I did something wrong. Please. I need an answer. I need to know what to do."

Staring down at the tile floor, I felt everything. I felt how much pressure he was putting on my wrist. I smelled the fragrance of the alcohol solution we put over everything to sterilize it. I felt how cold the air was, how it was crushing my lungs slowly. I tasted how sour my mouth tasted. The dead silence of the room was enough to rock my world, putting me into a trance that I had in clue of getting out of.