ETHAN
The ground buzzed with students, hovering around each other in black, some standing in packs, and some in coupled order.
Sylvia was no where to be seen. 11:10 a.m was past our assembling time. No one would be allowed inside past 11. So was Dean’s clear instructions.
“What happened to Sylvia again?” I asked whispering towards Myra while the ceremony began with Dean inflicting a horrible speech upon us. To be true, I have seen Michael only twice or thrice, spoken to him regarding house competitions which I recall as being completely formal interaction. He was a hot headed fellow. I didn’t feel a thing for him.
“She didn’t pick up my call. I haven’t got an idea…” said Myra.
I relapsed into silent meditation about Sylvia, what is it that I can’t see? Is there something that she really needs to tell me?
Michael’s friends said a line or two about him, one by one and it really started getting me sick.
“But what difference do flowers make on the dead?” I asked out aloud while thinking Sylvia. People around me, stared at me and it was really embarrassing. What was I thinking of?
“Can’t you hold your tongue for a second?” said Ben really appearing to be interested and deeply concentrated in the prayer service.
I wanted to say “Look who’s speaking” but I had to retain it.
Towards the end we said a special prayer, that drew me nuts and we were dismissed immediately.
“Hey wanna get some burgers?
“Can you hold your tongue for a second?” I mimicked Ben. “Burgers? Why I thought someone was really interested in the prayer service, deeply mourning the deceased.”
Ben eyed me saying, “look you aren’t supposed to say such things in such situations. What were you trynna be? Some philosophical and morally upright Hemmingway’s code hero?”
“Really? Then teach me what to say and what not to? When are we starting the lessons?”
“Look-”
“Guys shut up!” barked Isabel. “Are you guys some kids in nursery school?”
“But I only wanted to have burg--”
“No burgers. Go home now. Come on. If you aren’t then I am. And so is George.”
And then she stormed into George’s car.
“Why does she have to do that always? Drag me along?” said George frustrated. “Aright, bye guys. See y’all tomorrow.”
All throughout our car ride Ben kept silently driving. I didn’t try to provoke him or something but the Michael thing was an excessive melodrama for me to put up with. So when we reached home. I said “thankyou” while slamming the car door as a taunt mechanism.
YOU ARE READING
To The Place I Belong
Teen FictionMeet Sylvia Jones, whose life is butchered due to the deaths of her close ones. She fights depression along with her conflicted feelings that make her question if this is really the place where she belongs. She persistently asks that one single ques...
