Before We Shatter

05 | Chilly Weather

The moment the final bell blares through the air, signaling the end of 7th period, I grab my pack and bolt out the doorway of the English classroom before anyone else can.

I feel like I'm suffocating in this building.

My breaths are shallow and my throat feels bunched into knots as I make my way down the nearly-empty hallway. My lungs feel constricted and needing air, pushing and stretching past their limits to retrieve oxygen until I can hardly take in any—

Students start to flood the halls. Now I really can't breathe.

I force my legs to move, jerk my body into movements that feel so foreign it's terrifying. I push through the nearest side door and collapse against the side of the building.

I take one small breath, then another. Each slow, each freeing, each amazing. The air is polluted and humid, but the atmosphere is so fresh and liberating that I don't let myself care. I revel in the soft breeze licking my cheeks and joyfully take in the air the earth provides. I feel free. And lost.

I trail my fingers over the brick and mortar of the high school, letting my fingertips feel the texture. Every crevice and pebble is lined to perfection, each element set in place to lock me, seal me, cage inside the building. They tried to trap me. But they can't.

I will not be confined.

I will fly free.

• • •

I jerk to the right, frantically dodging a seagull that just about poops on my head. Instead it lands on the sidewalk, right outside a salon in midtown Manhattan.

A lady glares at my as she struggles to regain her composure after I almost knock her over in my sudden frenzy. "Sorry," I mumble quickly, and continue down the sidewalk. I can all but feel her staring daggers at my back.

Some people just aren't graceful.

The walk home is long, full of honking horns and chatty pedestrians. Lights turn red and green, parents drive their children home from school, the smell of food wafts through the air.

I pull my jacket on when rain starts to trickle from the sky. The drops are cold and wet against my skin.

I pass a little boy huddled into himself outside an Internet cafe. He looks to be six or seven, and very small for his age. His bony arms are wrapped around his torso, his tiny frame shivering in the cold atmosphere. I see a raindrop streak down his right cheek, then realize it's a tear. He looks like he's barely containing his sobs.

I feel a small tug in my gut at the sight.

I fight through a few stragglers passing by and kneel at the side of the boy. He looks up, a scared expression coming across his features.

"Hi," I say, a small smile on my face. "Are you cold?"

I regret the words the second they leave my mouth. It's obvious—of course he's cold.

I pull of my backpack and peel of my warm, fuzzy jacket. "Here you go," I say softly, fastening the layer of warmth across his shoulders.

His lip trembles slightly as he meets my gaze. "Who are you?"

"I'm Kai. What's your name?"

"S—Sam," he manages, sniffling.

My eyes crinkle. "It's nice to meet you, Sam."

He smiles a small smile, pulling the jacket around him tightly. "Thank you," he whispers, and my world seems to freeze around me.

The rain no longer bothers me, the rioting voices fade into melodies of peace. All I can feel is a strange sense of light radiating from my heart. I never want the feeling to fade.