Touchy

Chapter 15

I'm trying to get all of these out before Uni starts properly, so by this time next week really. We're now halfway through though. Just changing paragraphs over from Word is all I need to do, on top of all the over things in my day. Okay, waffle, stop. Bye. 

Words from mum this morning remerge to the surface of my mind. She told me that I should lay off some revision, basically implying that she thinks I'm overworking myself and doesn't want to see another revision card in my hand. I can't say I'm any different either; I'd love to just bin the whole lot. At least I'll be able to, eventually. It's just that eventually still feels like a very far away time, whilst feeling like the closest thing ever too. So what I'm getting at is that I'm debating going out again tonight.

The park was an experience to say the least, but – for the most part – it was relaxing. Maybe not as far as therapeutic due to some of the things said and things I saw, but it was definitely a valuable step in giving me some cool off time from school. Whilst I was there I didn't think about any of the aspects of school. No work to do. No thinking about my time left there. Not even anyone from there like Joanne, even Phoebe for that matter. Being there made me feel like I was living another life, like I was a part of something more meaningful in ways that school doesn't. It was a new life I wasn't expecting yet it feels like one I potentially didn't know I needed. A new experience that wasn't dreadful at least. And, even though I've already seen Phoenix today, I don't see why I can't see him again. Actually, I do, it's Phoenix.

I'm still conflicted about him. One minute he's this lively, smiling teenage boy and the next he's this daunting man. I've heard of mood swings, but I don't think it's quite like that. He gets triggered by things and depending on what his current mood already is, it can go one of two ways. It typically seems to go the wrong way, that's all. Not all of the time, but more times than not. But, I still keep talking to him. Is that so wrong? I feel safe around him, like he could protect me, but also that he could do something to me if he ever wanted to. He hasn't though, so I'm hoping he never would. Maybe I'll ask him later, just to set my mind a little more at ease.

Having decided that I'm going out, I gather together the same bag I took out yesterday with my bare essentials inside. However, this time I snuggle my arms and body into a zippy jacket knowing the weather is more likely than not to get harsher as the evening advances into night. If I'm too hot, I can at least take if off anyway. It's really only for the vulgar backlash of the winds that start to pick up as the moon takes over from the retiring sun.

Leaving my room, with my belongings on shoulder, I bump into mum and dad in the hallway as I come down the stairs. Casually, I slide past them as I make my way over to my Converse lying on the floor by the front door. Bending down I pick them up and manage to slip my foot into one before mum says something.

"Where are you going?" She asks me without being spiteful, but she folds her arms over her chest in an action that reads: I am the authority.

"The park," I matter-of-factly answer her with as I tie my shoelaces into a tight enough bow so that the strings flop down half of the canvas sides on my shoe. Then I start on the next one.