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The brisk wind bites through my sweater, and the overcast sky omits the sun making the day seem dreary. I didn't realize it was going to be windy today, I wish I had brought another layer. It's mid afternoon, around 4 o'clock.
¨How slow could he be?" I mutter, burying my nose further into my wool scarf.
Normally he's always on time, I wonder what's holding him up? I mean, he probably overslept again, he keeps staying up late.
I snap my head up at the sound of the door bursting open to reveal a disheveled Mark, a goofy smile on his face.
¨Fox! I hope you weren't waiting long!" he exclaims, looking a little sheepish. I roll my eyes in return, though a small involuntary smile appears on my face to let him know I'm not bothered.
¨Mark, it's frigid out here, we should get going.¨ I tell him, rubbing my arms against my sides. I go to grab his arm to pull him with me, but he dashes inside before I can reach him. Before I knew it, a muted green down coat was thrown into my face, and the sound of a door slamming shut in my ears.
I put the coat on with a huff, the green complimenting the dull orange of my sweater.
"Thanks," I mutter, earning a wide grin from him. He grabs my wrist as we head to his car.
"Where to?" He asks, looking at me with a wide grin on his face.
"The forest on Dad's lot?" I ask, breaking our brief eye contact to look out the windshield in front of me.
"Sure," He replies, shifting his view back to looking ahead.
He starts the car, and turns on the heat. I let out a sigh of relief as warmth slowly floods back into my body, and feeling back into my toes through my boots. He turns the radio on, knowing that conversation in the car makes me uncomfortable.
We sit in a comfortable silence, sometimes Mark soft singing to a popular song while I hum.
When we arrive we start to head out, the opposite direction of our usual spot. Our usual spot is open, and you can see the full cliffside and stream at the bottom in all its glory. Though, it's always windy there. It's already a cold day, not to mention the already bitter wind, so we head out in the direction of the soft pines which provide more shelter from the wind.
We wander aimlessly through, looking for a place to settle for the day and work on schoolwork and projects. Being surrounded by nature always helps us flow and work, so we've made a habit of coming here.
Finally, we find ourselves in a small dip where the ground is completely covered in a few inches of pine needles, and we sit down and begin our work.
Time passes, and I have completed a few assignments. Mark seems to have made little progress and has been staring at his page blanky for a few minutes now.
"Need help?" I ask sarcastically, not meaning it.
Mark snaps his head up at the sound of my voice. His dark eyes meet mine, and I raise an eyebrow.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Have you done your algebra yet?" He asks me, still looking distracted.
"No, and even if I had I wouldn't help you anyway," I tease, a grin breaking it's way through my face.
He huffs, and goes back to start on his work again. It's oddly quiet, for the forest. Normally there's birds overhead, and a general biodiverse feel when we come. I think I saw a single gray squirrel earlier, but nothing since then.
My eyes wander as I procrastinate my work, looking around the area. It's a lower level of light but still enough to see fine. There's no shrubs anywhere I can see, besides some brambles blocking most of the light. Which is probably due to the thick layer of pine needles covering the ground. Also, white fungi adornes the tree that Mark is leaning against, and I take the time to count them. There's thirteen overall that I can see on this side of the tree.
I check the time, 5 o'clock, it's already been nearly an hour. I look back to my work, no progress has been made. I guess it's my turn to blankly stare at my page now.
"Fox," Mark starts, his tone pleading.
"What," I replied already knowing that he's going to request I do something for him.
"You should come with me to my friends tomorrow and-¨ he begins, but I cut him off.
"No." I say before he finished, with a bite in my tone.
I shoot him a glare until he diverts his attention back to his homework.
"Fox come on, you never-" He starts again.
"I said no Mark, I don't want to hang out with your stupid fake friends!" I snap, tired of him constantly trying to guilt me into it. He knows I don't want to hang out with them, for various reasons.
"Oh come on, you haven't even-¨ He tries to start, again.
"No Mark! I'm not going to sit there while I get misgendered in total misery just for your enjoyment!¨ As soon as the words leave my mouth, his face starts to increase in redness.
"They're not used to you Fox! None of them have ever met a non-binary person besides you, they didn't even know it existed! It's not their fault you're-" He cuts himself off as his frustration level clearly rises, and he runs his hand through his dark hair.
"Yeah, lame excuse! You get it just fine, they shouldn't be any different!¨ I fire back, anger creeping up into my gut.
"Do you know how much I've tried to help you? What they're saying about me because I hang out with you? I've tried so hard to include you, it's like you want to be a social recluse!" He says, his tone rising. The anger, reaching up to my throat now starting to slip out.
"Mark, I'm not like you! I don't want to be in the spotlight, or be popular, or be seen! I obviously don't fit in, unlike you!"
"Maybe that's the real issue here Fox huh? You just wish you were me!" He spits out, with such venom that it makes my heart sink.
"You know what? I think I've had enough." Swallowing my anger with tears brimming in my eyes, I turn away from him. Hastily putting my work back in my bag, I stand up to leave. Not looking in what direction I'm going I force my feet to start moving.
It's barely a few seconds when I feel a presence behind me, and a hand around my wrist.
"What," I barely manage to get out, the feeling of emotional suffocation slowly encasing me.
"Look at me," his tone is unreadable, and with a few tears leaking from my eyes I slowly turn to face him.
His expression is something between anger and regret, or maybe something else. I can't tell, I've never been good at reading him even though I can read nearly anyone. But, that's the thing about Mark. Always unpredictable. He looks me dead in my eyes, his dark eyes swimming with a deep emotion I can't quite place. And for once, I am unable to break our eye contact.
"Fox," He starts in a monotone voice, a careful tone control hes learned over the years.
"Don't even start-" He cuts me off before I can finish.
"Is that true then? You wish you were me? Because, you could never be." His tone deadly serious, his words cutting me like knives.
"You think I don't know that? Come on, the only reason we're even friends is because you pity me!" The words leave my mouth without a second thought, and his reaction is immediate. The hurt floods his whole body plain and clear to see.
"Is that what you really think?" he asks in disbelief, and I say nothing in return.
"Answer me!" he shoves me, but underestimates his strength and I go back much farther than he anticipated as shown in the shocked expression that splashed across his face.
The force of the impact practically sent me flying, crushing through the rough brambles as they tear into my skin. Mark plays football, and is unaccustomed to petite frames, as he clearly underestimated his strength. I tried to stumble back, but my foot didn't touch the ground as expected, instead I felt nothing underneath it. Panic settled into my gut as I realized I was falling off a covered cliffside. I whipped my hands out, desperate to grasp a hold of something, anything.
My hands make contact with the brambles and I clamp down, regardless of my hands screaming in pain as the thorns dig into their skin. I feel a sense of relief, before the brambles I'm holding break. I look up, and Mark is there, tears in his eyes a second too late.
I start falling with a cry, as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop my fall, as it is a straight way down. And, I'm falling, my stomach plummeting and millions of thoughts swirling through my head.
I keep my face to the sky, not wanting to look to the ground as the air rushes all around me. I wonder what it feels like to die? I guess I'll find out soon.
Then, the pure agony hits with the ground. Bones, tearing through skin with a sickening crack. I lay there, crying, as a slow sense of peace overcomes me as I close my eyes for the last time.
