Not Yet

2 | 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕘

I found myself in my bed, body tucked under the blanket. The curtains now covering the window, and the room becoming an otherworldly dimension. Almost as if I was in space.

The idea being that the room is shrouded in darkness, and the pin-pricks of light – assuming it's morning – peeking through the cracks of the curtains. But that image was conjured through the brain of a teenager who's been exposed to a mass media, influencing him to believe that space is indeed, a black nothingness. With only bright stars dotted like lost souls.

Souls like mine. Lost and never found.

Heh. I'm going into this angsty phase again. With all my mumbling of being lost, I wasn't aware that my mum had creeped to the corner of my room and stood observing. Like the person from last evening. Weird. What happened to me? Did I black out?

My eyes met with my mum's. Her lips tightened into a smile. I returned a smile. My mother was small and delicate, and beautiful during the day.

"Get up will you." she sighed, "You're going to be late for school."

She then turned around and went to my closet.

"Huh?" I asked, dazed and confused.

"Did you not hear me?"

Her hands methodically opened the doors, and pulled out my grey t-shirt, my black shorts, and my denim jacket. My go to outfit; so bland.
She laid the picked outfit across my chair.

"I said get up!" she exclaimed and slipped out of the room.

"Thanks Mum!" I yelled after her.

I heaved myself out of bed, and pulled back the curtains. A seizing memory took me aback, as I gripped my head. The stranger outside the house last night, staring into my room, was still bugging me. But that thought was interrupted abruptly when someone from below my window jumped up and startled me by surprise. Jen. Jen Rose.

She had returned. I couldn't believe it, after eleven months, she's right here outside my home with her face pressed against the glass. I was astounded, almost passing out. I then inspected her. Her amber hair flowed just past her shoulders and her honey eyes danced in the light. She was elated and glowing.

She knocked at the glass with her fist, as she poked her tongue out.

"Jen!" I shouted with delight.

"Liam!" she replied, as I put my index finger up to her.

"Give me one minute!"

And I ran into the bathroom, with my clothes in one hand. I sprightly changed into my outfit, and rushed back into my room, grabbing my backpack, spraying a cloud of deodorant and rushing off into the dining room.

I looked around the room. Dad inserted two slice of bread into the steel toaster. His finger then pushed down the lever, as he went to sit on his chair. He pulled out his newspaper, before giving me a nod of acknowledgement.

Dad was arguably the best person in the world. He supported all my ideas, and took in what I had to say, but he was too quiet. Especially at parties, he will sink back into his study and work on his artworks. Acrylic as his media, and applying it in beautiful strokes from his paintbrush. His thick, lumber fingers working with ease, and his lips pursed in ardour. When I was younger, I used to watch him sometimes and I felt safe in his study. Especially from everything occurring out there, out in the world. I tell you, the world is at the entrance to Hell.