Blame it on me' ~ Post Malone

17.

I could feel the tears coming again, but this time I refused to surrender. I felt a dark mask that took over my face. I tried to penetrate as little emotion as possible. Austin said nothing; he just stared at me, waiting for his answer. Something in his gaze told me he didn't take a "no" as an answer. I'd better give up — stupid Post, with his compelling eyes as always. I sighed deeply to get myself under control before I started telling. Every time I was gripped by grief. "I thought about my best friend." He made an "o" gesture with his mouth but then got questioning eyes. He didn't understand. "What? I don't want to be rude, but you saw her last week, didn't you?" He didn't get it. He saw Billy or Ellison as my best friend. Although they were good friends, neither of them was my best friend. "She didn't come anymore." My voice cracked at the end, and I knew I had to fight hard. The emotions penetrated the mask. "Why didn't she come?" He stared back curiously as if this were such a delicate subject. As if I fight with her. Sometimes, I wish it could be just a fight.

Then, you could still make it up, or at least I would still see her. Now I lost her forever. "It's hard to get people back when they're no longer here." My weirdly formulated sentence confused him. It brought the pain up to me, and I stood up from out of the beanbag. I didn't feel like pouring out my grief again. I got rid of it. "She's dead, Austin." I walked to the door and went down as fast as I could. The first tears broke through my mask, and they fell to the floor. Provided an invisible trail. I heard no movement behind me. I could imagine him sitting there perfectly. Shock, sadness, pity. And I didn't need that last one.

The weather was pleasant outside, but the cold of the night started to take over everything. A warm breeze tousled my hair and threw it in front of my eyes. I didn't care much. I got goosebumps since it was much fresher than a few hours ago — quite logic, of course. Fortunately, I praised that Austin's house was just one street away from ours. Otherwise, I would never have made it before the darkness took over the world. I didn't have a flashlight that was permanently in my handbag. Not that I had such a thing. My only bag was somewhere in the Netherlands, doomed never to be used again. It would become a living piece of antiques. But I got it from Riley. It reminded me that I had left my bag at Austin's. Something that worried me. Then, it meant that I had to face him again tomorrow.

I walked on at a fast pace, all the time, with my arms crossed. Every sound, every movement, I shut it off. This way, I avoided all negative thoughts, banished them temporarily until I got home. The only thing I thought about now was getting home. It, therefore, took a while before I felt the hand on my shoulder. A hand that had stopped me. A hand that seemed to burn on my shoulders and made me shiver. Immediately, disaster scenarios started playing in my head. A kidnapper, an attacker, a pedophile. It could be all. What could I do best? Walking away wouldn't make sense. If it were an adult, he would overtake me in no time. I thought of a few more things and, in the meantime, cursed myself for the fact that I had never done karate or any other martial art sports. Just before I wanted to turn around, I felt his other hand on my shoulder. He turned me around and braced myself to hit that person or what my subconscious mind was up.

But I remained nailed to the ground when I saw him standing there.