Blooming Violet

October

October
1st October
Dad,
Why do boys change so quickly?
During morning registration, Noah walked into form 5 minutes late with hatred burning behind his hazel eyes. He didn't crack a smile. He didn't talk. I stared at the back of his neck for the 15 minutes during form, hoping that he'd turn around and make conversation with me like before... but he didn't move. And for some reason, it really bothered me.
I wanted to talk to him.
When the bell rung for period 1, I watched Noah stroll off alone with his hoodie pulled over his eyes and his head hung low. I desperately wanted to find out what was bothering him - what burned the fire behind his eyes - but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to do it.
Why am I so pathetic?
Kara.
P.S
Maybe I should forget about showing him my movie.
P.P.S
Update: I spent a lot of the evening thinking - what's the worst that could happen if I ask him what's wrong? Maybe he would hate me. Okay. But we've only been speaking for a day, so I won't miss his company if he stopped talking to me.
Because I don't fancy him.
---------------------
2nd October
Dad,
Lalalala I love the feeling you get after you do something courageous. What's the most courageous thing you've ever done? Was it asking Mum to marry you? That would be so beautiful, Dad - you should tell Mum that.
Speaking of courage, I did something wonderfully wonderful today. So amazing. You should be proud of me.
It began this afternoon, following another day of Noah's glacier attitude. Amongst a crowd of students rushing out of the school gates, he stood the furthest away from everyone - alone. Dreary. Sad. My heart ached to comfort him. He made the effort to walk me home and buy me food, I thought, hovering meters behind him. I should at least pay him back by asking what's wrong. He wouldn't hate me for it. He shouldn't. And even if he did, I wouldn't care. Yes.
With these thoughts lingering in my brain, I decided to trail behind him at a safe distance. I followed as people from my school became sparse, and the clouds became dark, and we were walking through the gates of a park underneath feathery rain drops. With his hands in his pockets, Noah suddenly stopped by a set of swings which stood underneath a large, dying tree.
"I know you're following me." he said darkly. "What do you want?"
I muttered, "I-I wanted to speak to you."
"What did you say?"
I didn't come all this way to mumble like an idiot, I thought. Taking a deep breath and inhaling the smell of wet grass, I shouted, "I came to talk to you!"
And there was silence.
But then, Noah turned around with a stupid grin on his face. While darkness plaguing his eyes hadn't disappeared, the smile was like a beacon of light on his sullen expression.
"That's the most confidently I've heard you speak to me." He breathed, before reaching into his pocket for a fag. I watched him spark his lighter, and then said, "Don't you want to know what I want to speak to you about?"
"I thought you'd tell me."
"Oh." I felt my heart burning and my cheeks heating. "Well, um, you were nice to me on Friday..."
"...Yeah? Are you trying to thank me?"
"N- well, yeah. But I - yesterday and today, you were really quiet... I thought something might be wrong, so I wanted to ask you."
"And that's why you wanted to follow me home?"
"...yes."
Noah, with the fag between his fingers, smiled the warmest, eye-crinkling smile. He sat on one of the swings and gestured at me to join him, so we both ended up swinging beneath the rain. Together. After moments of enjoying the cold breeze and the drops of icy spit from the sky beating against our skin, Noah said to me, "I'm fine, by the way."
"You're lying." I mumbled.
"Don't worry about me," shaking his head, Noah threw the worn cigarette onto the floor and stomped it out with his foot. "When can I see your film project?"
"I-"
"Could I see it today? Now?" He rose to his feet breathlessly, glaring at me with burning desperation. I couldn't say no. No matter how anxious I may have been, seeing his eyes glow with faint hope was enough to poke through any doubts I had. So, dad, here's where the wonderfully wonderful thing comes in.
I said yes.
I took him to our house. We hurried along beneath the pouring rain in silence, only uttering songs of relief once we were finally inside. I took him upstairs without any introductions. I locked my door. I opened my laptop. In a soft voice, I said to Noah, "Are you ready?" and he whispered back, "Yes."
So, I played the video, and watched the computer light warmly highlight his features, bursting his hazel eyes with hues of green and red and blue and yellow. I watched his eyes soften and his nose crinkle and his lips widen to a smile, while the freckles on his skin glowed and his dimples deepened. The diamond stud in his ear glistened (which I had never noticed before - honestly), and his profile appeared so soft and delicate, like a child's or an angel's. He looked really cute.
When the video ended, Noah said to me, "That was so cute."
I replied shyly, "Thanks."
"How do you do it? Do you take lot's of pictures and join them together?"
"Yeah. It's gonna be a stopmotion movie."
"Wicked." He smiled, before his brows furrowed with thought. "When's the deadline for the contest?"
"Ummm, February 22nd."
"So, we've got like 5 months, yeah?"
We?! Almost a little too hastily, I turned to face Noah with burning hope and asked, "We?"
"Well - I wanna help you, because it seems fun. If you don't mind."
"I, like, yeah! I don't mind. That'll be great."
"When do you want me to come over to help?"
This means that he'll be coming over, I thought. The two hadn't clicked. I'd barely managed to let him come over today, and if Mum sees him I'll never hear the end of it. But, Dad, here's where the bonus wonderfully wonderful thing comes in, because I swallowed the black souls of my doubts and told him, "This Saturday would be good."
So. Now, Noah's coming over this Saturday to help with my project, and I feel so happy and proud! Lalala I can't believe I did this much today! I deserve a medal. I deserve money. Kaddy's not the only one with friends of the opposite sex, hahahaha! I can't wait to see his face when Noah walks in. He'll be all like, "Mum! Kara's got a boyfriend and he's fitter than my girlfriend!" And I'll be all like, "No, you dipshit, he's just a friend!" And he'll be thinking, God, Kara can invite a boy round and call him 'just a friend' that's soooo cool.
I'm so cool, Dad.
Love, love always,
Kara
xoxoxo
P.S.
Who even goes out with an 11 year old who just sits down and plays xbox all day anyway? Cringe.
P.P.S
I know I told you that Noah looked cute. But that doesn't mean I fancy him.
---------------
3rd October
Dad,
Tell your wife that I'm 15 and not a child anymore.
She's trying to force me to a stupid family party this Saturday, when I'm supposed to be spending the day with Noah and the project. Greek parties are so loud!! You know I've always hated seeing her side of the family! This isn't fair. This isn't fair. I'm refusing to go. I asked Kaddy to join my revolution, but he said that he doesn't care because he can text his friends. Like I care about his stupid social life.
How am I going to tell Noah?
Well, I'm not gonna tell him anything, because I'm not going.
Kara.
P.S.
Should I ask for Noah's number? Or is it too soon?
------------------
4th October
Dad,
I'm so stupid.
So, today I had to break the news to Noah that he couldn't come on Saturday. I did it after school, as we both shuffled past the hoard of students outside school gossiping and linking arms. I said to him, "You know Saturday?"
And he said, "Yes?"
And I said, "My Mum's dragging me to a party, so you can't come."
And he said, "Oh. Could I come on Sunday, then?"
Which I hadn't realised was also free. Silly me.
So, he's still coming!!
My chance to be cool is back!!
Love, love, love,
Kara
xoxoxoxo
P.S
I'm not happy because I fancy him.
---------------------
6th October
Dad,
Mum's so drunk, Uncle Nik had to throw us in his car and rush us home. As I write, she's vomitting her soul out into the toilet with trembling hands. Her make-up's all smudged. She looks so sick.
And now things are smashing. She's screaming.
Ever since you left, she started drinking more than she should at parties and going on rampages when she gets drunk. She's starting to drink a lot more at home, too.
I thought she wouldn't drink this much at a family party.
I'm a little scared, so I'm going to Kaddy's room. I'm not really in the mood to see Noah tomorrow.
I'll write to you soon,
Love,
Kara
X
-------------------
7th October
Dad,
Today, Noah came over.
I snuck into Mum's room when I woke up, ploughing through the odour of alcohol and vomit to steal her make up bag. You see, as I lay with Kaddy last night, I decided to wear some foundation; Noah and I would very close to each other and there was no way I could let him see all of my spots and blemishes.
So, once I was all dressed and my hair was all blow dried, I took the liquid foundation out of her bag and unscrewed the bottle cap. I glared at the mirror. Well, she always dots it around her face and fluffs it out with a brush, I thought, squeezing bits of the thickly-textured make-up straight onto my face. Now, all I need to do is blend it out and - voila! Beautiful skin.
Mum's fluffy brush prickled my skin red as I blended the spots of foundation impatiently. I mean, my blemishes were vanishing... but so were the natural contours of my face. I looked like a bloody ghost!! I rummaged deeper into Mum's make up bag and found her gold-plated mascara, so brushed it along my eyelashes in hopes of distracting Noah from my horror-like skin. I have long eyelashes, I thought, dragging the wand over the bottom row with my mouth gaping open. Draw away from your flaws with your assets, they say.
And in all honesty, my eyes ended up looking kind of good: even with my ghosty skin and forresty eyebrows. Success!! Tying my hair into a high ponytail and staring at myself in the mirror, I was met with deep brown eyes drowned under black dolly eyelashes glaring back at me. I look like a chav.
Noah was coming at 3. It was 2:55. I had enough time to get a second opinion.
So, I crept into Kaddy's unlit room and whispered, "Kaddy?"
And he croaked back, "Mum?" as he rustled about on his bed. I don't think he slept at all last night. Tip-toeing over scattered game controllers, I sat on the edge of his bed and said, "Nope, just me."
"Where's Mum?" he asked. I opened the curtains in his room (like the caring sister I am) and answered, "She's asleep. Don't worry."
"You stink of make up." He said.
"That's why I'm here. I need your opinion."
"On your make up?"
"Yes."
Scoffing, Kaddy sat up on his bed and squinted at my face, tilting his head a couple of times as though he were trying his best to come up with a good answer. Finally, he said, "Why are you wearing make up?"
"To look pretty you idiot."
"But you still look ugly."
"Even my eyelashes? I thought they looked good."
"You look like those girls on TOWIE."
"How would you know what pretty is?"
"My girlfriend is pretty. You're not."
"You look like me so that makes you ugly."
"No, because I'm a boy. You look like a boy."
"So you're saying I'm a buff boy?"
"No. You're just ugly."
"Shut up, dip shit, you're ugly."
"Is that why I have a girlfriend and you don't have a boyfriend?"
"I-"
"Hahahaha I've got a girlfriend and you don't."
Little shit, I thought, frowning at the floor. How dare he? He's right, but I will never let him have the satisfaction. With blind confidence and stupidity, I shouted, "I - I do have a boyfriend! He's coming now, that's why I'm all made up."
"Ewww, who would want to go out with you?" Kaddy snickered, with his stupid little snicker face. As I was just about to hit him with his pillow, we both heard somebody knock. Once. Twice. Kaddy whispered, "Is that your boyfriend?" And I, with my face flushed crimson, whispered back, "I think so."
So we both rushed downstairs, even though I told your stupid son to fuck off. And we both opened the door for Noah, who stood at the door with a black leather jacket, navy denim jeans and a cool half smile playing on his lips - a smile that dropped at the sight of my little brother.
"Are you who Kara dressed up really ugly for?" beamed Kaddy, holding onto the edge of the door.
I yelled at Kaddy, telling him to fuck off, but Noah already looked annoyed. His hazel eyes gleamed with fire behind them - a fire that burned through the thick make up on my skin and tore open the cracks in my bones. The blazing feeling must've hit Kaddy too, because he stepped back and muttered, "Whatever. I don't care about you and your stupid friends anyway" before rushing upstairs. That shook me.
"S-sorry about my little brother..." I muttered with guilt, ushering Noah in and shutting the door behind him. He shrugged at me and said, "You look like a Geordie."
"I - is that a bad thing?"
"Not really. It just reminds me of Newcastle."
And so, we spent the next few hours upstairs going over the plot of the movie, cutting parts and adding others. He's really smart and creative and I felt my heart bubble with warmth whenever he suggested something I'd never think of. I swear, by the time we'd finished planning, I was so confident in our ideas that I believed we could rule the film world - tearing through all of the famous script writers' dreams with our thoughts combined. I felt invincible - and so did Noah. He lay on my bed with his eyes closed, taking in the flourescent gleam of light dancing over his skin, breathing ever so softly. While smiling, he said to me, "I love today."
I stuttered, "R-really?"
"Yeah. Thank you for not letting me spend my birthday at that stupid house."
"It's your birthday?! Wh- Happy birthday!"
"Thanks," sighed Noah, wrapping his arms over his eyes. The tone of his voice told me that he wasn't too fond of his birthday. "I always walk about on the streets on my birthday. I never like to be at home."
"Why not? Don't your parents worry?"
"No." he put bluntly, and that was it. I didn't try to touch on the subject any more.
With his fingers tracing shapes on my wall and dancing over the tacky-blue wallpaper absent-mindedly, he said to me, "So, tell me everything about you."
"Everything?" I snorted. From the carpet that I lay on, I peeped up to catch his smile - but his face was as solemn as could be. He was being serious. I said, "But me and my life are boring."
"I don't care." He breathed.
Looking up to the ceiling, I tried to remember anything remotely interesting about myself. "Well," I began. "My full name is Kara Nikoletta Ogburn. I'm half Greek. I've lived in this house for a few years and we moved after my Dad left."
"Where's your Dad now?" asked Noah.
With a little smile, I said, "Close enough for us to speak."
Which is true, Dad. How else would I be writing you this letter? In a soft tone, Noah said, "Okay" and urged me to carry on. So I did.
"I'm painfully shy," I continued, while spinning strands of my hair in loops around my finger. "And it's a miracle that you're in my house now, really. I can't believe you decided to help me with my stupid hobby. I'm so happy about that. You're the first person to ever take interest."
Terrified of coming across as selfish, I quickly shut up and asked, "What about you?"
"I told you not to worry about me." moaned Noah. He put an unlit fag between his teeth and sat up, saying, "I need to have a smoke. Wanna come with me?"
"Okay. But take that out of your mouth until we leave the house. If my Mum or brother see you, I won't hear the end of it."
7:07. Underneath the dark October sky, Noah and I walked up and down the street, as he puffed cigarette smoke out through his lips and into the cold air. Once he'd thrown the used fag onto the floor and stomped out it's fire, he asked, "Did you get all dressed up because I was coming over?"
"Umm... A little."
"Ha!" He snorted. Noah looked me with a slightly embarrassed smile, saying, "You're stupid. All we did was talk."
"I know."
"This's made me happy."
With the nightly breeze seeping through my clothes and dragging goosebumps across my skin, I looked at Noah with sudden fear. I thought about Mum, who was still hidden in her room with the sheets draped over her head, probably too hungover to cook. I said to him, "Thank you for coming today."
He nodded in recognition, exhaling deeply before asking, "Do you wanna fuck off somewhere?"
"Fuck off?" I said, wrapping my arms around my body.
Noah closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of lingering cigarette smoke and mud, before breathing, "Yeah. It's my 16th birthday. As a child, I always dreamed about people making a big deal of it. We can just walk about and stuff. I've got money."
You see, It's times like this that I really hate you for leaving, Dad; you left me to deal with Mum and Kaddy, when I should be going out, having fun and doing teen stuff. I shouldn't be turning down a night around the town with the new boy because my brother can't bloody boil an egg without setting something on fire. Or, because my Mum is either too drunk or depressed to move.
With a thick lump in my thoat, I mumbled, "I can't. I need to take care of my brother."
And so, Dad, I had to watch Noah's face fall and darken with the night, as he muttered something along the lines of getting too carried away. I watched him shrug his shoulders heavily, asking me to forget about what he said. I watched him pull another fag out of his pocket and eventually mope home in the dark... On his birthday.
I felt so bad.
Once he was out of sight, I sulked back into the house and shut the door behind me, trying my best to stifle any stupid tears by exhaling the dark winds still lingering in my lungs. That's when I saw Kaddy. He was kneeling on the couch, sitting dubiously close to the window with his hands plastered onto the glass. I asked him, "Were you listening to our conversation?"
He muttered, "Yes."
"Can't I have my own bloody privacy?" I grumbled, shrugging off my jacket. When he saw my expression, Kaddy looked to the ground sheepishly, with his cheeks flushing a rosy pink. He said, "I don't like him. You shouldn't go out with him. He looks like a bad person."
"What?" I puffed. The words barely escaped as more than a whistle - a whistle in the dark air burning off of my skin like fire. I couldn't believe him. I couldn't believe his nerve. "What the fuck would you know? Nobody knows what I go through here. I have to do what a Mum's supposed to do half of the time because she's too drunk off of her fucking arse, and the one time I finally have a bit of happiness, you tell me he's not good? Fuck you. I hate everybody in this fucking house!!"
And, after angrily throwing my shoes onto the floor, I stormed off upstairs.
Which takes me to where I am now. I've been sat under my blanket, writing this letter for ages. Once I finish, I'm going to go check on Mum and cook dinner, because I feel really, really, really bad for shouting at Kaddy like that. You're probably angry at me for snapping. It's just that I made my only friend unhappy, and now I'm scared of him hating me. I'm really just angry at myself, but I took it out on my little brother like the twat I am. I'm the worst person in the world.
Anyway, thanks for being there to listen. I'll write soon,
Love,
Kara
X
-------------
8th October
Dad,
Noah wasn't in school today. I'm really worried about him. I don't have his number and I don't know where he lives, so I can't check up on him. Is it my fault that he didn't come in? Yesterday, he told me that he doesn't like being at home on his birthday. Maybe he didn't go straight home after he left our house.
Also, Mum's still in bed. She stopped taking her anti depressants 2 weeks ago, but I thought she'd be okay because she's been banging on about how fine she feels. Now look at her. The alcohol probably made her feel like she was invincible. Why did I let her stop taking the pills?
Everything feels horrible, Dad. I want it all to stop.
Sometimes, I feel like joining you where you are, but I could never leave Kaddy on his own.
I miss you so, so, so much.
I'll write to you soon,
Kara
X
--------------
9th October
Dad,
Boys are weird.
As I walked out of school with soft rain spitting on my hair, I felt a hand grab my elbow and drag me into their direction. I didn't question what was going on. The cotton black hoodie draped over the stranger's eyes barely managed to hide little freckles studded like stars over their cheeks, or the strings of black, rain-drenched hair poking from beneath the hood. Or the smell of Mayfair cigarettes steaming off of their skin.
Once we reached the nearby park, the hooded stranger sat at the bottom of a tattered slide and slipped their fingers into the loops of their bleached jeans, sighing - never sparing a glance at me. Never sparing a chance for me to see past the darkness of their hood. In a haste, I said, "Where were you today and on Monday?"
Noah shook his head. He was trying his best to suppress a little smile; I could see it appearing and reappearing as my gaze over him strengthened. Sighing, he said, "How many times have I told you not to worry about me?"
"T-that's not fair." I stammered. By now, he had given into the suppressive urge to smile, because he was grinning a full, dimpled grin. "You asked to know everything about me, yet you've only given me little snippets. I don't think that's what friends do. W-why're you smiling?"
With an unlit fag now dangling between his teeth and a lighter clasped in his palms, Noah said, "I'm happy that you're finally comfortable enough with me to scold me."
"...Um-"
"Anyway, I didn't drag you here so that you could give me crap. I wanted to ask - when's the next time I can come over to help with your film?"
I tried to stare at his eyes through the cotton fabric wall between us and gage his emotions. Read his thoughts. Why would he drag me all the way to the park to ask me this? I said, "On Saturday, probably."
"Wicked," Noah beamed. He lit the fag dangling aimlessly on his lips and said, "I want to give you a little party bag."
A party bag? So he wasn't angry about Sunday?
"Party bag?" I echoed. With my words lingering, Noah stood up to adjust his hoodie, and I caught a quick glimpse at the eyes he hid so desperately behind his hood's darkness. Oh, Dad, his hazel eyes; his hazel eyes were surrounded by thick purple bruises. He had a black eye. Two black eyes. They were so swollen, so battered up, and soaked in what looked like dry blood.
Noah smiled.
Glancing up at me again, he said, "See you on Saturday," before hurrying over to the other side of the park with his hands dug into his pockets.
The rain got heavier.
My thoughts got darker.
I stared at his misty figure with 100 questions on my mind.
Dad, maybe I shouldn't say that all boys are weird. Maybe it's just Noah.
Maybe I just know nothing about him.
I'll write to you soon.
Kara
X
P.S.
It's not that I care because I fancy him. I care because we're friends. I know that I haven't known him for long, stop nagging me. God.
-----------------------------------
11th October
Dad,
I haven't seen Noah since Tuesday.
The more I stared at his empty seat in form, the more Kaddy's words danced about in my head. Why did he think that Noah was bad? I thought, as people gossiped cheerfully in their groups, sitting cross-legged on tables and kneeling on the wooden floor - doing whatever, away from me. As usual. With Noah's vacant seat staring back at me, the stinging feeling of loneliness had never tasted this painful. I felt betrayed. I felt left behind.
I draped my curtain of hair over my face, turning colourful surroundings into a blur of black stripes and hazy figures as I waited for morning form to be over. For the unintentional feeling of betrayal to burn away. When my eyes began to close and my mind slowly drifted into thoughts of rain and thunder, however, someone uttered a word that sparked a sudden fire around my skin.
Noah.
People were talking about him.
My face flushed scarlet, and my heart leapt into my throat.
"He's not in again, init?" A voice said boldly - a voice so bold that her words echoed in my brain over and over again.
"Nah." Another responded. "It's only been a few weeks, as well."
"Is he going out with Kara?"
"Who's Kara?"
"The girl in our form! Kara, with the black hair? Oh my days, Emily."
"Oh, her! Yeah he's always talking to her, init? I think they are going out. We should ask him in Maths when he comes back."
"You just wanna talk to him."
"But he's bare cute! Kara's so lucky."
"You're sucha slag, you were snogging Jake just last week."
"Yeah, before Noah came."
"Should I ask him what he thinks about you?"
"What about Kara?"
"This is for when they break up. We don't even know if they're going out!!"
I tuned it out.
It was all noise to me. At least, I pretended that it was.
They all fancy him, don't they? Emily Moore is gorgeous: he'd definitely go for her if she asked him out. Not that it matters. Noah and I just friends.
It's been 4 days without him in.
Am I crazy for letting those girls' words bother me, Dad?
I'll write to you soon with more updates.
Love,
Kara
X
-----------------------------------
12th October
Dad,
Today marked a full school week without Noah showing up.
I needed to talk about him with somebody. I needed some sort of reassurance or warning or advice - or, maybe I just needed somebody to talk to in general, because the feeling of loneliness was beginning to eat away at my skin. My eyes looked heavier than usual. Darker - more sad.
In desperation, I crept into my little brother's room and was met with clothes scattered over his floor, clothes that buried piles of games and controllers beneath their grip - clothes that lay over his bare stomach, as he smiled at the ceiling with a look of admiration in his eyes and a phone held at his ear. His hair was all gelled and styled as though he wanted to go out. And, his room reeked of cologne.
When he noticed me at the door, Kaddy flipped his phone over and mouthed, "What do you want?"
I said, "I need to talk to you."
"Fuck off, I'm on the phone." He grunted, flipping his phone back over impatiently to talk to the voice on the other side.
I didn't leave.
Instead, I listened to him continue his conversation, smiling with stars spinning over his brown eyes. I watched him laugh with rosy cheeks, and talk as though the world revolved around him and the pretty voice speaking at the other end of the line. I watched him be happy, Dad. I watched him be happy through the blurry lens of my tears.
And, before I knew it, I was sat above a pair of trousers with a river of tears streaming down my cheeks, rubbing my eyes raw. I had no idea why I was crying. Maybe I was jealous - you see, he was so happy, and I was so sad. It wasn't fair.
Through watery vision, I watched Kaddy flip his phone over again and look at me with annoyance, asking, "Why're you crying?"
I blubbered, "I'm not crying."
"Then why are you in my room not crying?"
"I don't know."
Groaning, Kaddy told the girl on the phone that he'd call them back and then threw one of his better looking shirts over his head, fixing the gel on his hair once the shirt's collar had scraped past his head. He looked awfully mature for an 11 year old. Sniffing, I said, "Thank you."
He grumbled, "Talk. And then stop crying. And then fuck off."
"Are you going out?"
"Yes. Hurry up and speak."
"Thank you for letting me have this opportunity."
"..."
"I feel really lonely."
"That's not really my problem."
"Noah hasn't been in school for 5 days."
"Who's Noah?"
"The boy you thought was bad."
Kaddy paused suddenly, with a look of concern clouding over his eyes. He said, "So - so you haven't seen him?"
I said, "I saw him on Tuesday. He said he's coming tomorrow, then he left."
"He's-"
"He said he was bringing me a party bag, and he had bruises like all over his eyes. And then, he didn't come back to school. It's really bothering me."
"Well, shouldn't you just ask him about it? He's your boyfriend aint he?"
Looking at my fingernails, I sheepishly mumbled, "I - well, he's not my boyfriend. We're just friends."
At that moment, I really expected Kaddy to mock me. Laugh at me for lying like a loser. But, he sighed a subtle breath of relief with his eyes to the ceiling and said, "O - oh. Good. You shouldn't see him, then. He really scares me, Kara."
"Why do you think he's scary?" I asked.
"I don't know."
"Is it because he smokes?"
"No."
"Then?"
"He looks like a really angry and scary person. And you're a really not angry person. You're a scaredy cat."
"No I'm not."
"And an angry person and a scaredy cat never go well, because the angry person will eat the scaredy cat alive for making a wrong move. The scaredy cat will be under the angry person's control."
"What the fuck are you-"
"I don't want you to get eaten, Kara. I'm trying to protect you."
"You don't even know what you're bloody on about."
"Please, please don't do anything stupid. Promise you won't get eaten."
"I - okay, I promise I won't get eaten. You weirdo."
"Good. I can't lose another. It'll be selfish of you to be eaten and leave me behind."
The point here, Dad, is that my little brother is weird and I may be eaten by Noah if I'm not careful. As mature as he likes to act, Kaddy really is just a child. A bonkers one at that. I did feel better after talking to him, though. Weirdly.
Maybe I'm going mad, too.
I'll write to you later.
Love,
Kara.
Xoxoxo
P.S
Now, I'm extra scared to see Noah tomorrow. What if he eats me like Kaddy said?
--------------------------
14th October
Dad,
I'm so sorry for my bad handwriting - my fingers feel numb and they're trembling an awful lot. I feel really sick. I'll tell you how yesterday went.
Aunty Eva picked Mum up rather early, telling me that she wanted spend quality 'sister' time with her. The darkness clouding Mum's sober eyes hadn't disappeared - in fact, they became murkier as Aunty Eva curled Mum's hair, dressed her up and masked all signs of her sadness with vintage perfume, pincurls and heavy make up. She looked like a doll. As they left, I said, "Have fun, Mum."
Mum groaned, "I'll try."
So, with Kaddy sleeping round his mate's house and Mum with Aunty Eva, I had the house to myself... probably for most of the day. Meaning, Noah and I would be alone. Alone, alone.
It was 11:53.
Noah hadn't told me when he was coming. My mind raced as I walked through the perfume cloud filling Mum's room, taking only her mascara (I didn't want a repeat of last week's ghost-face incident) to run over my eyelashes. I also took her lipgloss and a little bit of her powder foundation, hoping to cover the worst of my skin imperfections.
12:00.
I tried to curl my hair with the curling iron Aunty Eva left, but the curls looked really uneven - on one side they were loose and wavy, and the other they were tight and doll-like. Great, I murmured to myself, tying my hair up into a ponytail that draped over my back in waves of black. My hair looked a little like Ariana Grande's, minus - you know - being pretty. And Italian.
15:00.
My feet ached as I paced the living room, peeping through the window every so often to check if he was waiting for me by the garden. With my stomach cramps getting worse (girl problems, Dad!) and my eyes drooping in tiredness, I decided to sit on the sofa and rest for a while. Not sleep, just rest. Maybe put on the telly. I'd definitely hear him knocking.
18:12.
I woke up on the sofa with the telly still blaring in the background. The clock ticked at 6, and street lamps glowing beneath the evening sky shone rays of light through my window. Oh no! I thought, sprinting to look out of the window. Nobody was there. Did I miss him? Did he knock while I slept? In a panic, I pulled out my phone and dialled - but, I realised: I didn't have his number. I never thought to get it. Oh crap, I breathed, slumping on the sofa with worry clouding over my eyes. Laughing tracks sang from the TV and music blasted from the house next door and my thoughts rang loud; I was so frustrated.
But then, a knock. One knock. Two knocks.
My ponytail was loose and scruffy. My mascara was smudged. My lipgloss had worn off. With my heart dancing about in my throat, I went to open the door in a mess of wobbling fingers and nervous lip biting, hoping to see Noah - but, not see Noah at the same time.
And I saw him. Standing there, with his tousled-black hair, black hoodie, jeans and a small backpack, burying his hands into his trouser pockets so coolly. His bruises were still there. The ones around his eyes, I mean: they were a lot less vicious, but definitely there. All the air in my lungs had turned to smoke in the heat of my burning body, so I did a little wave and led him inside.
Once I closed the door, he said, "What happened?"
I asked (barely), "What?"
"You look messy." He said, with a slight chuckle in his tone. Those bruises couldn't hide the faint glint of happiness in his eyes.
"I - I should ask you the same."
"I look messy?"
"No - your eyes."
"Ah -" His eyes suddenly dimmed with a feeling I couldn't recognise - something dark. Painful. He said, "Nothing. It's nothing."
So, I left it at that.
"Nobody's home." I mumbled, leading him into the living room with my hands waving at the chairs and blaring telly. "We can do it here. I'll bring the set and camera, and -"
"Not yet."
"Not yet?" I echoed. Sitting on the sofa, Noah zipped open his backpack and pulled out a small bag - a small bag full of what looked like brown powder - and 2 cans of Stellas. He smirked, "First, my party bag."
"W-what is that?"
"Something fun that a mate got me."
With his soft, warm fingers, Noah pulled me beside him and gently opened the bag. He beamed, "This is gonna fucking wicked."
"What are we doing?" I asked. I still had no idea what was going on; all I could see was some sort of brown powder in a bag and cans of beer. Was he giving them to me?
Noah popped open the cans and handed one to me, telling me that I'd need it to wash 'it' down. Wash what down? I thought, apprehensively taking a small sip of the beer. It was bitter. He then empted half of the powdery bag onto his tongue and swallowed it like raw sugar, before gulping down some of the bubbly beer. Noah grinned. He told me to open my mouth and, hesitant to disappoint him, I let him pour the gritty powder onto my tongue and watch it melt as I swallowed some sips of the Stellas resting between my thighs. It was all so horrible.
After a minute, Noah said, "Let's start with the film."
So we spent the next hour fiddling with props, snapping photos and creating art. We moved characters and added the changes we talked about for most of last week, making slow but sure progress. We acted as though nothing had happened...and it was going well, until it was about 7:30. With a prop wrapped in his palm, Noah started giggling uncontrollably. Crazily. His eyes were wide and his pupils dilated. I asked, "Are you okay?"
Noah nodded and grinned like a child, telling me to wait.
But I couldn't.
His face. His face was changing - melting, like icecream dripping on the edge of a wafer cone. Everything was shifting; the carpet grew in burgundy loops of thread, twisting around Noah and I's feet as the gooey walls slid like lava onto the ground. Noah was still grinning. I reached to touch his melting cheek, and remnants of his skin clung onto my finger like yoghurt. He really is melting, I thought, sticking my tongue over the goo on my fingertip. It tasted like vanilla.
Noah said, "This is wicked."
I gurgled, "Your - face!"
I had some sort of weird impulse to taste the rest of him. So, I reached over, wrapping my hands on either side of his face, and licked the ooze dripping from between my fingers. This time it tasted bitter. I tried to tell him that he tasted disgusting, but the words came out slurred like, "Ewwww!"
"Fucking wicked!" Noah giggled, and he kept on giggling. He wouldn't stop. He lay with his back on the twisting carpet and his face to the ceiling, asking, "Hahahahaha did you see that?"
I looked up. The ceiling was dripping with the rest of the house - melting, as though we were inside some sort of oven or furnace. I couldn't understand why Noah wasn't scared. I was panicking.
"Be careful!" I slurred, holding onto his gooey hands with dear life. I didn't want him to melt away like everything else. "Don't let go!"
He chuckled, "You're tripping so fucking hard."
Why doesn't he understand? I thought, batting away debris of ooze with my hand. As Noah continued to giggle his head off, more and more furniture began to sink in the black ooze - the sofa, our TV, our family picture, books, games, magazines. It was all sinking. Noah was still melting.
I murmured, "Don't let go!"
Noah was laughing. The house was caving. Darkness grew. Sounds and footsteps rang like echoes in my brain. Echoes, echoes, and more echoes. I felt so alone - like I was the only one who could see the world ending right before me. I lay for what seemed like 100 years, staring into the abyss with Noah's giggles and sighs as soft background music. I felt depressed. I didn't know what was going on.
Until I saw you, Dad. I saw your car parked outside of the window, with your smile gleaming underneath the fluorescent street light. I ran to the window. I screamed, "Dad!!"
You waved at me.
I ran outside. You stepped out of the car.
I ran towards you. You stepped forward.
I kept running.
You stopped. I stopped.
Time slowed down.
An oncoming car zoomed in slow motion across the road. It drove into your body, slashing through you like a blade.
Red blood splattered all over the pavement - blood that vanished beneath the harsh gaze of the street light. You were gone.
I screamed. I kept screaming your name, but you never responded.
You were gone. Just like before.
I was shaking. I think I felt Noah clutch onto my arm. Maybe some voices of worry. Some lights. I can't remember. The next thing I knew, I was vomiting. Vomiting all over a grey floor.
Then, I passed out.
When I woke up, it was apparently 12:30AM. The world was back to normal, with the smell of tobacco filling my nose; sat cross-legged at the end of my bed was Noah and he fiddled with a burning fag between his fingers. Once he heard me sit up, he whispered, "You awake?"
I asked, "Where am I?"
"In your bedroom. It's 12:30."
"Wh- Kaddy?! Mum?!"
"Shhh," breathed Noah, gently pushing my body back. "Everyone's out."
I groaned, "Wh-what happened?"
"You had a really bad trip. I'm sorry."
"Huh?"
"I gave you 'shrooms. I didn't know you had so much on your mind."
"So, I was on drugs?"
"Yeah."
Things began to come back to me: the melting, the ooze - you. Your blood bathed on the road, indented with slanted tyre marks. The same tyre marks I saw 4 years ago. I mumbled to Noah, "I feel horrible."
He put his fag out on a nearby desk and said, "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."
"Why did you have them?"
"I got them off of a mate on my birthday."
"After you left mine?"
"Yeah."
I watched his back slump as he sighed, biting his thumb in what looked like distress. He seemed so bothered. In a whispered tone, I asked, "Is that who you got your bruises from?"
He chuckled, "You're so nosy, Kara. No. Stop worrying about me. You've got enough to worry about yourself."
With moonlight slicing his skin, Noah turned to face me and asked, "When are your Mum or brother coming home?"
I mumbled, "I don't know."
"Do you want me to stay with you?"
My face flushed scarlet - stay with me? In my bed? Would he sleep next to me like my husband? I wanted to tell him no, but the black ghosts of anxiety scurrying my gut pushed for me to let him stay. I was scared. I didn't know if I'd start seeing things again - even without the drugs. Stammering, I said, "Y-yes. I'm kind of scared. You don't - you don't have to sleep next to me, I can-"
"Don't worry." Noah smiled. "I won't sleep next to you. Just know that I'm here. Sleep."
And so I did, with the sound of rustling trees and whistling wind rocking me to sleep.
When I woke up, it was all gone.
The wind. The dancing leaves. Noah.
Sunlight peeped through my window, leaving trails of grey dust over my bare skin. I turned to the side and saw a note: a little note that was torn from a book or something. Maybe my notebook. It had a phone number on it, with these words scribbled in blue underneath it:
I'm sorry.
It was Noah's phone number. He gave it to me.
I finally have it, Dad.
I feel so ill that I don't feel happy, though. Mum and Kaddy aren't home yet. If Mum isn't back by tomorrow, I'm not going to school - I can't deal with all that exam lark when my stomach is tearing apart like this.
Plus, you must be angry at me for taking drugs.
I wouldn't have told you about it if you were here.
But you're not, so I can. Ha.
I miss you, Dad.
I'll write to you soon,
Love,
Kara.
Xxxxx
Update: It's like 8:00 and Kaddy's back, but Mum isn't. I'm not going to school tomorrow. When Kaddy asked to stay as well, I told him not to ruin his education because his generation is the future of this world. Not that it's true - I just don't want to be at home all day with him there. Eurgh.
-----------------------
15th October
Dad,
Mum came home today. 1:00. Her make up was smudged across her cheek and the curls in her hair looped dully over her face, while the tangy smell of alcohol and vomit burnt like smoke off of her skin. She was a mess, wobbling across the living room floor in a skirt that rode over her knickers. She shouted, "Kara! Babe! I've got fant-aaastic news for you!"
"Where have you been?" I said. Mum waved me off limply, holding her red-painted index finger into the air. She slurred, "You never listen to me! God! I need to tell you!"
"What?"
"Nope!" Mum giggled. She plonked herself onto the arm chair and stuck her tongue at me, smelling stronger than ever of spilt whisky. She whispered, "Wait till Kaddy's home!"
"Mum..."
"Ugh! Fine! Because Mama and Baba love me sooo much, we're going to Greece for two weeks! This half term and the week after! They want to talk to me! God, Kara, aren't we so lucky? Maybe I should surprise Kaddy."
I watched Mum giggle her way into tears, eventually burying her face into the sweaty nest of her palms. She was sobbing. Bawling her eyes out. I gently walked over to her and hugged her, as her body trembled in agony and fear. In between howls, she said, "What am I going to do? I'm so scared. They're probably all so disappointed in me. My husband died 4 years ago and I haven't done a single thing since. I'm a disgrace."
"It's okay," I whispered, gently smoothing out her black curls. "Everything will be okay. It has been, hasn't it? Me and Kaddy are still alive."
Mum sniffed, "Yeah. You're right. I'm still raising you both. That's enough to be proud of."
"Yeah," I sighed at the ceiling. "Now take a shower, Mum. You stink of alcohol."
Not once did she ask why I wasn't at school. Typical of her.
At least she's okay.
I'm excited to go to Greece, anyway. Nan and Grandad's house is gorgeous!
Anyway, I'll talk to you soon.
Love,
Kara.
X
P.S
I spent the rest of the day taking care of Mum, so I didn't have time to call Noah. Honestly, I'm so relieved - I hate speaking on the phone. I'll just see him when I can.
-------------------
16th October
Dad,
Noah was in school today!
When I walked into form, he was slouched in his seat with a pen clenched between his teeth, flapping it up and down - moving his jaw about. He seemed more distracted by this than the girls around him. And by girls, I mean a girl: Emily Moore. The girl who fancies him. She watched me sit in my chair and lay my head on the table with indifference, before poking Noah to continue their conversation. I stared at the wall and listened.
Her: "Did you see Mr. Lamb about being sick last week?"
Him: "No."
Her: "Do you need anything for maths? Like, notes and shit?"
Him: "Nah. Thanks."
Her: "Are you sure?"
Him: "Yeah. I know it all."
Her: "You're so smart, aren't you?"
Him: "Not really."
Her: "You should help me with maths!"
Him: "I'm not that good of a teacher."
Her:: "Don't worry, I'm not difficult to teach. It'll be proper bants."
Him (really dully): "Really?"
Her: "Yeah. I'm sure I'll do bare amazing with Mr. Fedder teaching me."
Him: "I'm sure you would."
Her: "Hahaha, do you know when we should start, Mr. Fedder?"
Him: "Mmm... Kara? I know you're listening. Do you have any ideas?"
Her: "Um - maybe we could start tomorrow?"
Him: "Tomorrow? Do you think so too, Kara?"
Me (with my face flushed red behind my hair): "I - I don't know."
Her: "Tomorrow's fine! I'll see you then, sir."
Him: "Mhm."
Once Emily had left, I lifted the lock of hair covering my right eye to look up at Noah, who was grinning unusually brightly - brightly and deviously. As he twisted his chair to face me, Noah whispered, "Are you okay? From Saturday?"
I mumbled, "Mmm."
"Good. I thought I really fucked you up."
"It's alright." I said with a small smile, looking around to see if anybody was watching. I then whispered, "Why did you do that just now? That was bloody awkward."
"Dunno. You looked bored and upset."
"I'm not."
"Not anymore."
"She likes you, you know. You shouldn't have done that."
"Swear down?" He gasped sarcastically, mocking our London accent with a covered mouth. I tried not to smile.
"I'm being serious! She's really pretty. You should go for her."
"Why're you telling me this?"
"Th- that's what friends do. I'm trying to help you."
Strangely enough, I felt myself getting way more comfortable with him - more confident. Maybe it was the topic of conversation. Maybe it was the relaxed atmosphere of the form, as everyone huddled in groups and got ready for half term. With a faint smile, Noah shook his head and told me, "You're dumb. If I liked her, I would go for her."
I said to him, "No. You seem like the kind of person who'd be too scared to go up to the girl they like and write stupid love poems about them from far away, talking about how you prefer to admire their beauty from afar - but really, you're just a pansy with a notebook."
Noah laughed, "Really now? I'm a pansy with a notebook?"
"Yeah. Pansy."
As talking dimmed and the clicking of my form tutor's heels grew louder and louder, Noah told me to edge closer. When I did, he whispered, "I should write a poem about you, sometime."
He then turned to face the front, grinning at pastel-blue wall decorated with posters and notices. I knew he was smiling. Smiling as I flushed shades of crimson.
God, Dad. There went my comfort with him.
Boys are so embarrassing.
Love, love,
Kara.
xoxoxoxo
P.S
We've got sooo much half term homework. I want to cry. I hate Year 11.
I'm going to ban GCSEs when I'm rich.
--------------------------
18th October
Dad,
Today was the last day before half term!
As Noah and I walked out of school in rather high spirits, he asked, "Can I come over tomorrow? You know, to help with the film."
And I told him, "You can't. I'm leaving for the airport tomorrow."
"Airport?" He spurted. Pausing, he turned to look at me with his hazel eyes widened.
"Yeah, I'm going to Greece for 2 weeks."
"Oh," he breathed. Noah popped a fag between his teeth and quickly lit it, puffing relief out of the thick cloud of smoke escaping his throat. He looked disheartened, so I asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He muttered.
"You're so closed."
Noah chuckled, saying, "I'll miss you, that's all."
My heart warmed up, pumping rosy blood to my cheeks. He'll miss me?
Flustered, I said, "Yo - you shouldn't miss me. We've only known each other for like 3 weeks."
"Feels like longer." He murmured. I think he was a little embarrassed - or, just sad, I don't know. After staring at the ground for a while, he said, "I need to go. I'll see you later, Kara."
And he left.
So, I went home and finished packing my suitcase, bubbling with excitement - listening to the faint drum of Kaddy running up and down the stairs.
"Stay in one bloody place!" Mum grumbled from corridor as she sat on her Louis Vuitton suitcase, trying her hardest to close it. Once Kaddy reached the top again, he said, "I'll close it! Let me jump on it!"
I asked, "Why are you so bloody hyper? God."
"Fuck off!" shouted Kaddy, jumping on Mum's suitcase over and over again. Mum tugged onto his arm and said, "Oi! If you break that, I'll fucking kill you, Kaddy. I'm not joking."
For once, I felt as though we were a proper family. A warm, happy family, dragging each other's suitcases into the downstairs corridor with consideration. With care. Eating dinner at the table. Watching stupid soap operas. Together. The feeling lingered with me until the night, where I lay with my eyes wide open in excitement. It was 11:04 PM. My fingers circled the air impatiently, tracing fairy wings and letters and butterflies and stars... but then, there was a faint knock against my window. So, I sat up.
It must have been the leaves knocking against the window, I thought, clutching tightly onto my duvet. But there aren't leaves close enough to my window to do that.
There was another light knock.
And another.
And another.
I was curious, so I peeped through the window... to see a figure standing directly beneath my room - a figure with a cotton black hoodie and jeans, impatiently throwing tiny pebbles up and down in their palm. I poked my head through the open window and was soon drowned in the scent of lingering mud and Mayfair cigarettes. In a hushed tone, I called, "Hello?"
The figure looked up.
I couldn't make out their face. After exhaling a breath of sooty smoke, they reached into their pockets and threw a scrunched up piece of paper into the open slot of my window.
Then, they jogged away.
What? The piece of paper landed on the window sill and tumbled onto my socks. I picked it up, slowly unravelling a neatly handwritten note - a note written on a page torn from a notebook.

It read:
For an A* English student,
I'm pretty shit at poems
This won't rhyme
Nor will it make sense nor
will it be any good, but
I wanted you to recognise this as
a note of admiration. You see, I really am
just a pansy with a notebook.

Oh God, Dad. Was he telling me that he liked me? I can't stop smiling. He might just have lost his bloody mind.

And, I think I really might possibly fancy Noah Fedder.
Might.
I said might.
I'll write to you soon, with updates about our trip to Greece.
Love,
Kara
xoxoxoxo
P.S
Nothing. I'm just really happy right now.
---------------------------