Elysium

Chapter Sixteen

It was difficult for me to sleep last night. All the small and strange events that occurred had been swimming around my mind. I was suppose to leave everything behind and forget about the things that put me in a bad state of mind; but everything goes back to him and my father. Al and my father. Writing has been difficult as well. I needed to figure out a way to send my stories to a small newspaper article to possibly win the chance of it being published and be rewarded with some cash for myself.

Carter had insisted in helping me out a bit, but letting me stay here is help enough.

I haven't spoken to anyone back in New York. I promised Zayn I would call him as soon as I landed but I just haven't really gotten around it. I didn't think I would miss him as much as I do now, he was one of the few friends I was able to keep despite everything Al put me through. Although, he still spoke to him, we are mature enough to remain good friends and even lived together for a while.

Sadie, his girlfriend and I got along just as well. I remember the hot summer days in which the air conditioning to our shared apartment wasn't working, we lived off a cheap brand of mac and cheese and laid around our unfurnished living room in just our undergarments. Zayn always wore some long lime green basketball shorts of course, he found it unsuitable to walk around in just his briefs.

We had no t.v. but we obtained a nice stereo in which we placed in the corner of the room. Music would fulfill our needs as Sadie and Zayn would sing along while drawing. I always used that time to write about them. Write about the way they both sat so far and shared no affection towards one another, but the small moments in which they did were the one's that assured you that they did indeed love each other.

Once the sun would settle down it would warm the brown wooden floors of the apartment and we would lay down on our backs and look up at the white popcorn ceiling. Searching for figures our imagination would try to bring to life.

Our neighbor across the hall always claimed that we were under the influence or simply too loud, their teenage daughter thought otherwise. She always sneaked her way into our apartment and wore long brown skirts with a white button up that the catholic school she attended required her to wear. Her long brown beautiful hair was always neatly put back and she would would always have Sadie braid it or simply style it when she was around.

I recall the first time Zayn and I moved in, she had assumed I was his girlfriend and that he was cheating on me with Sadie. When we further explained our dynamics she understood and never stopped talking to us.

Her parents trusted her enough to leave her home alone while they ran an errand or went out for dinner. During those times she would just barge into our apartment and greet me and Zayn. She spoke to us about the girls at school, the boy that worked at the library whom she had feelings for and her homework. I remember the time she stopped by and spoke to Zayn and I about the older men who found a liking to her when she would walk down the street from school or the library. Their unwanted attention would never go unnoticed by her; Zayn and I reassured her that we would walk with her whenever she needed us to and we often did.

She would often stop by with her keyboard and play blue tunes as Zayn would welcome the minor keys and let us influence the way he painted and the way I would write. Her facial expression always held life but within you could notice the girl was just as dead as the plant placed by our dirty window.

Something about these memories trigger a feeling of sadness inside me. Sadness because I know no matter how much I'll try we can no longer go back and relive these days. It will never be the same as it once was. Without hesitating I pick up my phone and call Zayn. I'm aware of the different time zones but Zayn tends to be awake whenever he can, I remember the pointless arguments we would have about the importance of sleep. He always argued that sleep was a waste of time, and that time was something others often took for granted.