everything you never said

02. noah

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I once read that the best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he never knows he's in prison.

Recognising the signs had been hard for me; the strict curfews and random room checks, the security camera that lined our home's hallways, the inability to ever say you were thinking out loud. What else can you expect? Because when you see the world through rose-coloured glasses, even the red flags look normal.

I suppose that was destined to be my downfall: those rose-coloured glasses. I was always too emotional, falling too hard, too fast and left only with scars to show for it.

I loved passionately. I loved sending reckless text messages to people, telling them how much I loved them, and how magical and wonderful they are, and how lucky I was to know them.

Because, one day, I might turn into my parents - cold and calculative and uncaring.

So I loved dangerously, and recklessly and beautifully, for there is nothing more beautiful than desperation; and nothing more dangerous than pretending not to care.

Sometimes I wish I could keep my heart safe, guarded, because at least then I wouldn't have to stitch it back together ever so frequently. I wish it didn't end up at my shoulder, leaving me vulnerable and feeling like nothing. Every argument, every broken dish and unsaid thought was a reminder of what I wish I was and what I knew I could never be.

I was the disappointment of the family, but at least I stayed.

'Noah, I received your grades for this semester.' A harsh voice, a push back to reality.

'And?'

'Don't test me, adeul. You're almost done with high school, it's time to stop fooling around.'

'Yes, eoppa.' I mumbled quietly.

Most of all, I wish I wasn't such a coward.

✧

It was a thing of great amazement to most of my classmates that I rode a bicycle to school everyday- even though I'd been doing just that for 4 years now. I loved my bike - it was the one thing in my life that was constant, no matter what. I loved feeling the wind against my skin, and as crazy as it sounds, when I was on my bike I felt like I was flying. For a moment, I wasn't Noah Flynn-Tae, and I had no responsibilities and no obligations. It was just me and the sky and the road ahead of me. 

I jumped off my bicycle just in time, a few moments from a collision with Logan, my best friend.

Of course, in this case, best friend meant he pretended to like me and I returned the
favour. I like to think of it like a mutually beneficial relationship - like symbiosis.

He, the most popular boy in school would spend time with me. He'd invite me to house parties (not that I'd ever go, but the invitation counts more than the attendance itself) and I was allowed to sit at the same table as them (one of the greatest gifts to mankind ).

In return, I would put in a good word for him every once in a while with my parents, because they owned the biggest practice in our town and Logan Kingston's big goal in life was to be a pediatrician there - following in the footsteps of his mom and dad. I wondered if it was compassion or compulsion driving him down this path. 

'Flint! How you doing?' He asked, an easy smile on his face as if he hadn't tried to mow me down a few minutes ago.

Terrible, I wanted to reply.