Just a game {1st draft...}

Chapter 4: Guilt

Hello people! I really hope that you're enjoying the story! As usual tell me if there's anything I need to change etc. Anyways, thank you for reading!! :3

~YourGuardianAngel ♥

___________________________________________________________________________

Guilt

“When you are guilty, it is not your sins you hate but yourself.”

― Anthony de Mello

Once my head hit the pillow, the unfamiliar surroundings rapidly faded away, and for once I fell into a long dreamless sleep. As usual, I woke up early—a habit I had since I couldn’t let me guard down—, showered and walked towards the doors that lead to a long corridor. My barefoot, on the smooth ice-cold floor, gave me the impression of walking on water. The portraits decorating the walls showed people from the past whose names were still remembered; old headmasters with sharp and serious looks on their wrinkled faces, and famous figures who lived among us inside those breathtakingly realistic oil paintings.

I closed my eyes as I wandered aimlessly, tracing my finger along the cream-coloured wall. I must’ve looked mad, but other people’s opinion meant as much to me as the Council did to my brother and I. Nothing. My mind seemed to be overloaded with secrets; and the more I tried to run away from them, the worse it became. I wasn’t weak whiny girl but all of the guilt could be overwhelming at times—he was responsible for it and up to this point, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to face him. Just by thinking about it, the thick black that encircled me on that day seemed to have come back for me. The cries, the screaming that pierced through the night, still echoed in my silly head.

Each breath was harder to draw. I opened my eyes and place the cold tip of my fingers on my left cheek—no tears. Of course not. I had to be strong; showing weaknesses meant death in this cruel world. My brother was more important than some stupid guilt I couldn’t get over; whether it was him or the screams that haunted my dreams, Ollie was the only person untouched by the events and I had to keep it that way.

The past stays the past no matter what. We can’t change it, so why look back to it?

                “What are you doing?” Ollie stood in front of a closed door, arms crossed, looking down at me with amusement written all over his boyish face. “You’re really not doing any favour to the blonde stereotype,” he said, his grin growing wider by the second. “I see you’re wearing the clothes I picked out for you. They’re still oversized but it was hard to find tiny people’s clothes. No offence.”

I shook my head, burying what I was my emotions, and jokingly glared at him. “Hello to you too, brother. What is it you say? Oh, no don’t worry I slept well.” My tone amused but guilt kept creeping out of its hole, trying to take possession of me. I punched him lightly on the shoulder, attempting to ignore the bitter taste I had at the back of my throat. “Oh and by the way, 5 foot 2 isn’t that ‘tiny’!”  He made a face and handed me my timetable for the day, filling me in with the details I needed.

***

After the short conversation I had with my brother, I headed to my first class; history with Mr. Greenwood. I entered the large classroom, not making any eye contact with anyone, and sat at the very back of it—not willing to pay any attention to the lesson or to attract the others’ attention. I wasn’t shy but attention means getting close to useless and pathetic high school kids who would probably just end up to be nothing but nuisance to me. As I sat down and found myself next to a black-haired boy—his silver-coloured eyes fixed on the luminous screen of his phone, making them appear paler. He looked like fallen angel with the mischievous smirk he had on his face and his black hair on his eyes.