His Reason

Pale it blooms...

 Pale it blooms…

          It was a bright early morning for Everhart high school. The sky still dimmed with fog from early dawn veiled the entire school with mysteriousness. The air was cold and dew sparkled from every little flower that bloomed by the corners of the school’s main entrance path. Cars weren’t allowed within school premises due to the limited space so students had to make their way up a small hill just to reach the entrance gate. As students made their way towards the gate, a guard would be checking up on every student that came through. It was a normal procedure to start the day off and nothing really wrong happens aside from the occasional kid not wanting to go to school fit which luckily didn’t happen today. Then again this kind of peace is maintained without the presence of students who are mostly the driving forces to all the noises and mayhem. Poor Mr. Guard struggles to maintain the peace at the same time fight off his urges to close his eyes and sleep.

     Ignoring the guard’s troubles we turn our attention to a certain student walking lamely up the path. With his back slouched and his bed hair poked out; this young boy looked absolutely terrible. He had bags under his blood shot eyes, not to mention a crooked neck tie that made his sloppy outlook no better. He looked so awful that the guard couldn’t help but to notice.

     “Oh kid, you doing alright?” the guard worriedly asks. “You look like you haven’t slept in years!”

    “I’m fine,” the boy mumbles, “don’t worry about it.”

     “Are you sure? Well take it easy, you hear me?”

     “Yea I will…”

    “I know school can be tough and all.” he pauses. “But you got to take care of yourself.”

     The boy nods as the guard rambles on health and a whole bunch of stuff that we get to hear during health class every single second of the hour. His lecture falls on deaf ears for it seems that there are other things clouding the boy’s mind, things that would seem to claw at his thoughts and make a mess of things. Sloppiness though wasn’t a norm for this boy, he was always so levelheaded and dealt with problems in the fastest possible way he can. His grandparents thought him capable for maintaining a sense of balance in everyday matters. Though despite all that in the end it was all but a clever façade, a mask he maintained throughout the years. A way to give himself reassurance to lessen the burden that came with some realities, realities, he did not want to realize.

     Let us give a clap to acknowledge his great performance up until now, because it’s time to end the show and take the last bow.

     What probably gave him a reason to end the show? Things have been going so well, that he was probably at the peak of happiness.  Happiness only he could understand yet it was happiness nonetheless…His new found family and a life where in he knows what path to take. Of little value it seemed to others, though that of something great to him. He who knows the pain of losing everything recovered through the attainment of what he thought was lost forever.

“Nicholas, I want you to live with me….”

       And it was then that the buds that he tended began to wither. Watching the petals fade into ash and slip away with the wind. What was the point of it all?   Everything that has happened and everything he came to understand. What worth was left for him to take? It’s all useless. Everything has gone to waste.  All with those few words…sung by that one sound, the sound that he ever so hated.

      He could have just rejected it all. Scream his burdens out like a little child. Isn’t that what he always wanted?  To voice out the pains he felt within. That he may find the ultimate satisfaction once he’s sees that bastard’s face all guilt ridden and worn. Yes, the image alone makes him cringe with a sense of obsession.  The tragedy of a child falling into madness, or in his case falling deeper into it the thought of it alone seems all too pitiful.

     Then again he wasn’t prepared at all. It’s not like he actually anticipated it either. The thought of a father who just went out of his life would suddenly give call years later to ask something as stupid as moving in together. Who wouldn’t blame him for denying the possibility?

     He could only respond in silence…he couldn’t say anything. He was too startled, and emotions surged right through him like being struck with lightning. His kindred old grandmother understood his voiceless sentiments and took away the phone.

     “Nicholas dear, it’s time for bed.” She said smiling.

     That gentle smile of hers was probably the one image that kept repeating in his head. Was it his inner demons pushing out the other burdening thoughts? , Calming him down with false reassurance? In the end he still couldn’t sleep. All night tossing and turning to the point that the only thing left on the bed was his self.  Looking up at the ceiling amidst darkness, what thoughts came to pass?

     These were the events and thoughts that came the day before. That didn’t stop Nicholas from attending class though. Despite being in all his sloppy glory, embarrassment was way out of his league. His laid back presence has made his recent states less of a bother to his classmates. With all their indifference it felt great not being bothered with questions regarding his health. The guard’s lecture was enough as it is even though he didn’t really pay much attention to it, so with a snap of a finger, Nicholas slumps down on his chair and falls into a deep slumber.

     The class eventually comes all together. The image of students coming in, greeting friends, checking on any missed out homework, upcoming tests that they forgot or probably didn’t want to study. The once peaceful room now slowly fills with noise and papers getting strewn all around. With all this chaos Nicholas still manages to sleep though with ease.

     Moments later the main adviser comes in, his presence signals students to rush back to their seats and all comes to a quiet. The adviser scopes the room and gives a low exhale. He then gestures someone from outside the room to come in. The students turn to see a girl with mocha shaded hair that curled at her waist come into the room. She had a small build, with pale skin and irises the shade of grey. Her cheeks flushed as she notices everyone looking at her.

     “This is Roszhen Faiye, a transfer student who is of the same age with all of you, please do get along.” The adviser introduced with dim spirit.

     The girl had nothing else to say and simply gave everyone a gentle smile. The adviser then points to a seat by the front area. “You’ll be then sitting there for the rest of the semester; we’ll probably have another arrangement so you might as well get acquainted with your classmates.” he says.

     Roszhen sheepishly walks to her seat looking down at the floor trying to avoid catching anyone’s eye.  The adviser then proceeds to a recap of the previous lessons.  As he does so he notices Nicholas sleeping in plain view. Out of anger he throws a chalk board eraser straight at Nicholas’s face. The impact startled Nicholas to wake up. In his confusion he turns his head from left to right in utter shock. Class mates giggle in unison and chaos was revived.

   Amidst the turmoil Nicholas crosses eye with Roszhen, who unlike the others who were laughing till their sides ached, looked at him with worry.  She didn’t say anything and simply looked at him. Was she looking down on him or something? What’s with her expression? Angered by his own thoughts Nicholas responds to her with disdain.

     The girl turns her head away and class is brought back into the way it was earlier with the elder adviser now scolding everyone.

     Nicholas who normally hates getting attention had other things in mind and proceeds to get lost in his own thoughts once again and sulk. On the other hand we have Roszhen sitting by her chair lost in her own thoughts as well. With both her fists clenched she glances at a purple flower peeking out of her bag.

The key that sings my heart’s true pain….

The door that tells the sky to rain….

The song a flower sings at night…

A voice like that of heaven’s light

"How are you so sure of a heaven lit morrow?

Where one is not plagued by pain or sorrow?

Your gentle smile it pains me so....

Burying me in endless snow"