[ note: hi this is rly mediocre but im
kinda hoping it wont turn out like
that. it's set on the 80s but i think
i didn't make it that obvious lol. it's
a short story, around 4 chapters.
enjoy reading if u will proceed (: ]
15:37
There were days when I had my lowest points, where they initially just had the urge to add destruction to my customary life than it already had in the first place.
And I was glad that today was not one of those days.
But why was that? It was because that I enjoyed the solitude rather than being dwelled in it enough for me to be pricked with the thorns of loss and despair. Typically, I would barricade my existence away from everybody and anybody and everything and anything so that mere words and actions wouldn't force me to repent on the past and the present. Although, it was easier to be lonely, I knew to myself that it wasn't the solution to my situation.
Or any situation, for that matter.
“You have to make friends,” my sister told me as she washed the dishes while I stared out the living room's window.
I grumbled. “Why do I have to? There is not one soul out there that has stared at me without having a sense of judgement somewhere.”
That was, undoubtedly, a fact.
“Not everyone's like that—” Angelica tried to tell me. Of course I was unable to react to that the way she wanted me to. Like what they used to say about me, and they still might do up to this day, I was stubborn.
“That's easy for you to say, you had friends who understand,” I countered, lightly knocking my knuckle on the window pane.
Out in the open field across our building were children playing tag with their parents as their chaperones to the event. It was a sunny afternoon, there was no other time of the day that was better than this time right now to be out there — flaunting whatever you had; your life, your family, your achievements, your case of upheaval, your desire to play sports.
What did I have? My aunt and my sister who attempted to push me out of my comfort zone for the sake of my social interests and mental health.
My sister finished the chores she was supposed to do for today earlier than expected. I was about to leave my position on the window and head to my room where taking naps were heavenly enough for somebody who lacked sleep like me when it came the fall of the night (in short, I was nocturnal), but Angelica placed a forceful hand on my shoulder, clearly giving out the message to me.
“I understand. But not everyone has to, Mila. It's difficult but we'll get through it together, I promise things will get better,” she assured me with a squeeze on the particular part of my shoulder that ached but I chose not to appeal to the pain and show that she has inflicted on it without a purpose.
“The thing is, I don't seem to care. I didn't love her, ever. Everything fell apart once dad left, you know? I lost nothing that day you all lost her,” I replied without much given thought.
I shackled out of her touch and didn't stay long enough for an answer from her, then I locked myself in my bedroom. The patience escaped my system once they have tried to etch the memory of my mother onto my present living, because I despised it when she even existed in my life back then and now that they were reminding me of everything about her was more than tiresome than expected.
My sweat made my clothes stick on my skin and I had the feeling that my heat exhaustion would be over the level for me; my cause of death, finally, I guess.
