Do You Know Eva?

Do You Know Eva- Chapter One

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Do You Know Eva?

-Chapter One-

Decisions and Choices Made

     Sometimes it hurts more to smile in front of everybody than it does to cry all alone. I have been faced with a decision. A choice. My choice- no one else’s. The pain used to be there to remind me that I was still alive, it’s funny how you can get used to it, the crying, the hurt. Now the presence of the pain just urges me over the edge. This is my decision, my choice. Live or die. To be or not to be.

     The school’s front entrance is paved with marble tiles that lead up to a mound of steps. The yard is empty, the car park full. I have long missed the bell for first period. I dash up the stairs and pull open the door and enter the empty halls. I stand there, almost shocked by the eeriness of the deserted halls, the door crashes shut behind me. The hall is nothing without the population of the school gossiping and running through it. The emptiness almost reminds me of myself. The only difference is I know people will be back in the halls in a matter of minutes.

     My locker door is always a hassle to open. I bang it twice with my fist after entering in the combination and it pops open. I throw my bag in and pull out my first period, English, book and copy. I also pull out my sketch pad. If there was one thing that was certain in my life it was that I was going to draw. It wouldn’t help me in the long run, but it will numb me for a while. Only for a while. Like a drug it will have its high and wear off leaving me even worse than before. If possible.

     The thoughts of entering a full class almost makes me turn around and return home but that is never an option. Besides, I like English. I am fluent, I have you know. I grasp the door knob of Ms Jones’ room and take a breath. I knew as soon as I opened that door all thirty sets of eyes would be on me and that was the one thing I despised- being the centre of attention.

     The door opens with a creak and as I guessed, everyone turns around to see the late arrival. Much to my delight, once they see it is only me they return to their whispered conversations and daydreaming. Ms Jones passes me a disappointed look. Her darting eyes return to the board where she continues her notes on Hamlet.

     I take my seat at once and pull out my copy and begin transferring the notes. I know it myself, I am slacking behind. No sleep and school do not mix. But school, teachers and a host of other things will not matter to me anymore. This is my send off. My last English class.

     Halfway through class, I zone out from Hamlet and his dramatic exit from the play and flip open my sketch pad. Flicking to a fresh page and ironically the last page in the pad, I pull out a pencil and immediately I am drawn in. No longer am I sitting in English class, or even alive. I am in my own personal state. Eva time. I move the pencil methodically and religiously. My movements are quick and decisive. I draw my memories and today’s drawing depicts a young girl, glistening blue eyes and thick, blood red hair starring out the window of her sitting room as a man in a leather jacket over his shoulder walks away. This is one of my most painful memories.

     I look up to the board. A whole fresh board of notes has been written up. I haven’t even taken any of that down. How long was I out? A few strands of hair fall over my eyes but that is how I like it. If my eyes are covered they cannot see if I am crying, and if they are covered I haven’t got an excuse to cry. But other than that, I am ashamed to show anyone the black circle that surrounds my left eye. No amount of make up could have hidden it. Her fist against my face was like a hammer against a nail.