A tube girl

The flat

As I get up from my seat I look over at the empty space where she sat. I'm still saddened by my cowardly self. I could've asked her for her number. I could've asked her for her name even though I already knew it. Emily Serch Milan. I walk up to the door. The well known voice saying "mind the gap". I have learned by now to mind the bloody gap, but thanks. I step out, 'minding the gap'. I start walking up the stairs. As I reach the top I see that it's raining. Of course. Luckily my flat isn't far away. But I still pop out my umbrella, so I don't have to get more wet then necessary. I walk down the road that's stuffed with people. It's rush hour.

I walk to a song that's playing in my head. Keeping my feet at a certain beat. The song is not a fast one, but if I keep moving at the same speed, I won't be the annoying girl who just doesn't know where to be in the filled line of stressed and angry people. The people are always stressed or angry because they don't understand that the world is full of time, and that getting home 1 second earlier does not make a difference. I finally reach the street where I'm supposed to take a turn. Normally I walk the other way because I think Oxford is extremely beautiful in spring. But it's raining, I'm sad because I'm the stupidest person in the world, and there's filled with angry and stressed people everywhere. And today I just can't see the usual beauty that I normally see. I turn.

I can almost see my window from here, meaning I only have a few minutes of rain left. Almost there. I see a girl walking next to me. Her hair is purple. She somehow reminds me of Emily. And that makes a wave of sadness rush over me again. I push the button to my apartment. No response. Thankfully I'm home alone. I swing my backpack down from my shoulder and open the zipper. I dig deep before I finally find my keys. I unlock the front door.

I'm so tired after school that I, the lazy bone I am, decide to take the elevator. I only live on the 4th floor, so the ride is not long. I take a look around the elevator. The same old elevator. The same old red and white walls. At least they were white when they were new I think. The same old worn down gold buttons. The same old noice when the elevator goes up. I've lived in this building my entire life. And it's both annoying and comforting.

It's annoying that I've never gotten to experience anything else, but at the same time it's comforting knowing it all. Knowing the sound of the elevator, knowing which steps that makes the floor squeak, knowing where everything is. I let myself into my apartment. I yell "Hi" just to make sure no ones home. No response. I throw my bag and my coat on the floor. I'm not in the mood to hang it up. Too much effort. I walk into the long hallway. The same old hallway. The only thing that occasionally gets replaced are all the pictures of me hanging on the wall. I hate them all. They are the same ugly and fat girl. But at the same time they are not the same. There are only few new pictures of me. In the old ones I look so happy and carefree. In the newer ones I just look tired. Which I am, but they reflect so much more of the person I am now. My attitude. I sometimes wonder what happened to the little girl in the other pictures. Where did she go?

I've finally reached the door that leads to my room. On the outside hangs a name tag. Natasha. I open the door and find an all tidied room. I have to clean my room every Saturday and Wednesday, else I'm not allowed to use my phone. It's only Thursday today. I change my cloths to something more comfortable and less wet. I then throw myself on my bed and open my laptop. I open up Facebook, which I normally don't. But I know why. I want to see her again. Just a picture is enough. I search her name. She pops up onto the screen. Her profile picture is her and another girl making a duckface. The wave of sadness comes back. It shouldn't but it does. Maybe the other girl is just a friend? Maybe it's her sister? It shouldn't matter. She's probably straight anyways. But I can't help myself. I scroll through her page. Not in a creepy way, just to know if any of my assumptions were right. She is artistic. Half her page is artworks that she made. And there's a picture of her at a book signing for divergent. The earrings were the symbols. I close my laptop. It's so creepy and stalker-ish to look at a random girls page.

To distract myself I text my good mate. "Wanna pop by the flat on your way home? I miss you". I can't remember that last time I saw Dom. I've missed him so much. Every  Monday and Thursday he passes my flat to get home from his racketball practice. "Sure, miss you too. 'Be there in 20". I don't respond. That means I have 20 minutes alone with my own thoughts. I find a bag of crisps and some pop for Dom and I. He's not allowed to eat that because of his training, but who cares? Then I find a blanket and put it on the sofa. Open up my laptop again and close the Facebook tab. Instead I open up Netflix. The best thing Dom and I know is watching a movie under a blanket together. We've known each other for so long, it's just what we do.

And the best thing is that nothing is weird about it. We are both gay, and Dom has a boyfriend. But as my mum doesn't know any of that, she thinks Dom is my boyfriend. It doesn't bother us. That way when I'm out, doing stuff she shouldn't know about, I can tell her I'm with him. Dom should be here in about 5 minutes. I just stare into nothing. It's relaxing. Just staring and living in my own imagination. I rarely get to do that...

I hear Dom bussing. "Who's there?" I ask in a teasing voice. "You have one guess mate" he then says just as teasing. I like the sound of Dom's voice. It's so calm and relaxing. I let him into the building. In just a few seconds I'm going to see him for the first time in weeks. Finally...