All I could hear were my footsteps on the pavement as I quickened my pace to sprint away. Adrenaline had flooded my body, my muscles tensed under the pressure. I didn’t dare to look back. My mind desperately searching for answers. I was weak. I stopped running, reaching out for the nearest support. I doubled over in pain my lungs screaming out for oxygen as I gasped at the cool air. I rested my head against a tree and collapsed, biting back my tears.
The harsh breeze tickled my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I was finally alone. The moonlight illuminated the deserted street as I stare at my hands in horror. Crimson red liquid dripped from them. I reached my hand up to my neck wincing as my fingertips grazed over the fresh wound. My blood. My eye widened at the realisation.
A bloodcurdling scream fled from my throat causing my mind to jump out of my nightmare and back into reality. All I could feel was the stabbing pain in my chest as I gulped hungrily at the air, I could feel my body shaking beneath me, the rapid beat of my heart ringed in my ears. My body was still in shock. A bead of sweat started to roll down my forehead; I reached up to wipe it away with shaking hands. It was just a dream, I thought to myself. I continued to chant the phrase over and over again until my muscles started to relax and my heartbeat started to decrease. I was now in full control of my body, I finally had piece for a little while.
I focused into my surroundings, looking towards the windows, I stared as a dusty bar of light danced throughout my room, it made the bleak appearance of my room almost look whimsical. I laughed at the thought, feeling surrounded by a mystical presents. The idea filled me with warmth as I snuggled deeper into my sheets, now completely lost in my own world of bliss.
I glanced at the digital alarm clock that sat on my bedside table. It was almost 7 o’clock. Knowing my alarm was about to go off, I decided to leave the warm embrace of my bed and face the outside world and the unknown.
Reluctantly I started to crawl out of bed, ripping away the sheets that enveloped me. My legs felt like jelly as I waddled to the bathroom, hoping that my body would spring back to life very soon. I didn’t feel carrying like dead weight around all day, I already had enough textbooks to weigh me down; I didn’t need my aching body to add the equation.
I peeled off my pyjamas throwing them into the washing basket. The cold air sent Goosebumps down my neck to the tip of my toes. I pulled back the shower curtain silently praying to any god that will listen that the hot water was on. I stepped past the threshold, hesitating as I reach out to turn to shower on, hoping that my prayers were answered, I turned on the shower.
“S**T!” I screamed as my skin burned under the falling water, it felt like someone had just poured a kettle over my head. “Idiot, idiot... idiot” I muttered to myself as I frantically shuffled away from the downpour, slightly cursing at the sky because my prayers were answered and then some. I’m not the type to swear but on this occasion, I made an exception. Reaching out once again the burning water grazed my skin as I quickly changed the showers setting. The water trickled down my bare skin; I lifted up my chin to feel the warmth against my face. After daydreaming for what felt like hours, I realised I can’t hide from reality in my shower, I’d look like a raisin.
I wiped my hand against the frosted glass of my mirror and stared at the figure looking back at me. Looking at my reflection I assessed the damage from last night. My fingertips grazed over my under eye bags, no amount of concealer could ever cover up those bad boys. My fingertips travelled further down my face towards my neck and brushed over the pink scar in between my neck and shoulders, I cringed under the pressure. Removing my hand, I flipped my dark hair over my shoulder. Leaving the scar hidden under layers of cascading hair. My eyes lingered over the covered scar for little longer, a panic started to flood me. I bit down at my lip hoping that the pain would keep me calm and distract me for a little while.
I gazed back at myself in the mirror, behind my pretty face; I could see the sorrow within my eyes. If eyes were windows to my soul, my soul would be an abyss of darkness. My onyx orbs became part of my allure. They were striking and deadly, but still beautiful. I didn’t have a bewitching appearance that could capture the heart of men any man, but what I did have I was happy with.
Glancing up at the clock in the hallway I noticed how much time I’d spent in the shower. I ran to my wardrobe throwing on a pair of jeans and a navy jumper. I inspected my final outfit choice and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I looked presentable, maybe a little rough around the edges but presentable nonetheless. Grabbing my backpack, I headed down the stairs preparing to be scowled at by my mum who would notice I was running late for college. Stepping into the kitchen I noticed a note taped to the fridge.
Rose,
Me and your father are both working late tonight so there is a lasagne in the fridge to heat up when you get home.
Love mum.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I realised I escaped the danger zone. Grabbing my keys of the counter and a chocolate bar from the cupboard I made my way to the bus stop.
The crisp spring wind rustled the leaves in the trees; I closed the eyes and let the soft whistles of the breeze fill my ears with sweet melodies. It felt like I was one with the world. When I reached the bus stop I glanced at my watch, I was only going to be ten minutes late, let’s hope no one noticed my tardiness.
Hopping onto the bus I took my favourite seat. It was right in the middle and I would sit next to the window. I was in between the little old ladies talking about the good old days and who won the bingo last night, and the teenagers in their hoodies talking about how much they hated their parents. In the middle seats I can get lost in my own world away from everyone else and their thoughts.
My imagination is what makes me feel alive. The world that surrounds me is bleak, all colour is gone. I see the world through a black and white television screen. The fantasy world is one filled with conquests, brothers in arms that fight to defend their loved ones. My reality is the mundane day to day routine at constant battle with my mind and the thoughts that deceive me. The colours of my childhood have faded away, now a distant memory. I lay awake at night craving the constant buzz of being young without responsibilities’, and how it would it fell to truly feel free again. Never being able to experience anymore firsts in our short lifetime. Will I create an impact on this world or will I become an unknown ghost that haunts the ground I used to walk upon. I plague myself with question don’t have the knowledge to answer yet, but crave the answers so much I’d ruin myself to know.
I grabbed my favourite book out of my bag. My eager eyes darted across the pages as I fully immersed myself into its world. The Children of Morrow, by H.M. Hoover is a book I’ve read from cover to cover since I was little, the edges of my copy were frayed and the pages torn but it just added to the magic. It gives the book a story of its own.
Leaving the bus, I looked towards the building that stood in front of me. My college wasn’t the nicest looking building with it looking more like a prison than a college. But to me a text book is where I escape.
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