The first day after school ends is always the longest.
Knowing you have all the time in the world draws out the hours, and you spend your time knowing that you have too much. You make stupid costs, spending an hour, two, three on nothing.
But this is different when you know just how little time is really left. How soon this'll end.
The air this morning is a bit fresher than it was yesterday, so my balcony seemed like the best place to sit down and write my letters. Halfway through my dad's, I hold the paper down on my thighs, the pen's ballpoint scratching against my skin through the sheet. The sunshine peeks through the green leaves of a tree, coming down onto the paper in strange shapes.
With the little time I have, a have a few important things to do. And trading in an hour for this is worth it.
Maybe.
Maybe it's worth it. Maybe my dad'll just throw this away as soon as he hears what it is. Maybe it'll have been a waste of time after all.
The thought makes me sigh, my fist falling to hit my leg. I look up to the underpart of the roof above me, needing to look away from the letter. I take a few breaths, and slowly, the pressure in my throat grows. Why does this have to be so hard? Why is it so difficult?
It won't be difficult anymore. After this, everything will be easy.
I close my eyes. And let it sink in, let the numbness take away the tension in my chest, let it soothe the pain and pressure. That's right; it'll all be easy. But I have to get this done first.
When I open my eyes, the world seems quieter, emptier. And it gives me solace. Alone, with no one else here, it makes things clearer. So I get to writing another sentence, beginning to think this might actually take more than an hour.
Clank!
A light sound of solid hitting solid makes me flinch, but I don't bother distracting myself. It's probably a rock from the roof, or an acorn falling from—
Clank!
This time, I look up. My head whips to where the the sounds rang, somewhere under me. There's nothing in between the legs of my chair, and when I sweep my eyes over it there's nothing on the balcony floor.
The sound comes another time, then another as I shuffle around, trying to understand, trying to find—
I stand, pushing my chair back and trudge to reach the balcony rails. I look down, to the floor level of the new neighbours' house.
The boy throws another rock as he leans down onto the beechwood railing of his porch, arms crossed on the wood.
"Hi," he calls out to me.
I only look at him, and try to push down the stress building up in my gut. He's only a stranger, only some boy. I focus on keeping my vision from blurring, concentrate on the colors and shapes... his lightly bronzed skin, his messy blonde hair.
I exhale a shaky breath and grip the railings, levelling myself. He tilts his head slightly to the side as I try calm my quickening breaths. He looks careful, yet open.
"...I'm sorry."
I blink. "Why?"
He smiles brightly, suddenly, and takes a step closer to the railing, gripping it to imitate my stance. "I didn't know how else to get your attention."
YOU ARE READING
Asunder
Teen Fiction"Promise me. Promise me you'll never beg someone to stay when they're already gone." Tangled up a million knots, Kingsley has lost faith in happiness. Her heavy heart struggles to continue to beat, and she is slowing down. It seems to her that the w...