'to the boy i once loved,
it was the way you spoke to me, the way your words were sung that got me intrigued. you've spoken to me many times before, but something changed and melodies escape your mouth now. maybe i was falling? i would never admit it, loving someone is such a cowardly thing to do; but somehow, the way you looked at me made me feel safe. your glance was warm, like you'd protect me no matter what. so i latched onto you but i just can't help but feel like that was all an act.. and i'm just finding out.'
she examined the patterns on her blue knitted cardigan. 'criss, cross and over. criss cross and over.'
she'd easily get distracted, the smallest things would attract her attention; like the time at her fathers funeral where throughout the ceremony she was distracted by the markings on the bench she sat at. this church was old, so she could only imagine how many people have sat exactly where she has and all the reasons why they have sat exactly where she has. but to take her mind off the stormy atmosphere, she resorted to counting all the markings on the wooden bench, giving every single one a story. now, she wasn't exactly sure what story each marking held but it interested her.
she wasn't a girl in touch with her emotions, in fact she was quite scared of them. but being scared is an emotion, so we wouldn't call it that.
the tick of the clock interrupted her examination of the criss cross pattern on her cardigan, so she quickly touched into giving each sixty ticks a name. the ticks introduced themselves to her; Elizabeth- 12, Ben- 1, Felix- 2, Darla- 3-
someone sat next to her. stopping her from focusing on the names of the numbers that lived on the clock.
a girl. she looked quite crazy to her, with her hair being the first thing that caught her eyes. green hair. you could tell that this girl either wants to stand out or doesn't give a shit about what anyone thinks of her.
the complete opposite of Harlow.
