Light up the Sky

f i f t e e n

Maya

*2 weeks earlier*
After everything that happened with Alvin, I was happy for what seemed like a short time. I felt butterflies in my belly, and started feeling conscience and carefree at the same time. That was until I found out my own(only too) friend felt the same way that he ignored me as much. Mikaela was quite jolly that day in Physics. I wanted to make conversation, but without any indication or farewell he left the meeting along with our teacher. I wanted to tell him all about the week, but I didn't think he wanted to talk and for some reason that thought made me moody and unbearable. My older cousin brother is probably the wisest of people I know of. He always said he was an introvert for understanding something that turned him to that. He believed through his spiritual understanding that every time one becomes a favoured person in other's mind, their other tied knots unbind. He believed this sternly after having lost his dad at a young age of 12, because he talked too much to all his playmates, especially one of them; Marzia. A quiet, charming, Jewish girl he went with in kindergarten, and in his small district, even secondary school with her. He still has his father in his heart, but nowhere else in existentialism.

*. *. *.
I text Mikaela after lunch.
No reply.
So I desparately call him.
"Yello."
"Hey... Mikaela. It's me."
"Mayaaaaa!! So how are you?!"
A sense of relief reels in my gullible head.
"Fine.. Just wanted to make sure you're good and all."
"Mhhmmm. I'm good hon, don't even worry 'bout it,"
"Ya... so what's with the southern accent?" I ask noticing his curvy lilt.
"Serioslayyy? I thought you wouldn't notice!!" he screeches into the microphone. "It's Bob. This guy I met downtown, and boy he's the descending angel I was hunting for!" he continues.
"OooOoooOo" I say back.
"We have this party at homecoming night if you want to come,.. I mean it's different 'cause it's night you know..?"
"Ya..."
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I keep thinking about about Mikaela's party all week. I don't see Alvin for that entire week as I felt weak and insecure and lazy to even stumble towards the small white-paned window, unlatch it, move back and wave a shy hi. I lay in bed for what seemed like forever, and my mood swings went from an uncontrollable bar graph and broke the ceiling of restrainment. I wanted to go savage and rogue and incognito and be labelled as the 'missing girl severely suffering from photosensitivity and bipolar disorder found laying in green bay district highway. Parents appeal to her only connections being her next door neighbor, and LBGTQ+ classmate'. My parents would stare for hours at my flame shaded deceased, soulless body entangled in the thick green-brown grass and moan to the saviour to let me radiate from wherever I lay in peace. I get interrupted by my own thoughts and emotions a million times which deviates me to a completely different perspective from time to time. I hear moans and sobs and my fading heartbeats throbs and I lay in a disco room in the corner for fragile dorks--and everyone-- everyone, Mikaela, Alvin, my cousin brother and his soulmate, all at this party-- spit in my direction collectively to show their dissapproval for my arrival. I let these thoughts arise, and let my self diagnose for the great, big, depression. I lurk through my brain to find the right words to type in Quora, amidst all the depressive, random recollections.
I type in, "can a bipolar person say that they are bipolar?" And wait for all those geeks who spend their leisure breaks in satisfying others thirsting curiosity. Someone replies a prompt "No", which makes me want to diagnose myself even more of bipolar disorder.
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Mom unlocks the car and I sink in my hoodie and sit myself in the back seat. Not a shotgun person. My Mom looks through the mirror back at me trying to understand my choice of clothing and the dark circles that keep expanding their perimeter down my cheeks. I act as if she didn't look at me, and sink down the seat belt and lay down.
"Are you Okay?"
No reply from my side.
"Honey?"
"Fine."
My mom gears back the car hoping to know that it's all my period acting up, but it was really just me. All alone. Just me.
The word 'Fine.' Seems like a word that never reassures anyone. That is my new personal favorite to use now that I don't like answering to obvious things.
I think through the drive about how Augustus describes oblivion, and I seem to fall into it deeplythis time. Like an abode for lost, like a cavity unfilled, like an answer unknown, like how I feel alone.