Your Choice. (to be updated soon!)

She didn’t wave. She’s quick out of the door when school ends, leaving without a glance. It slides shut with haste, spurring her departure. She walks hurriedly, her long legs striding quickly down the corridors, eager to get out of this wretched place… 

…but leaving me stranded in it. 

The door thuds shut, the finality of the sound resonating through my hollow chest. My gaze falls, observing the abandoned books and sticky notes across my desk. They sit rejected on the table, where I’ve left them, forgotten amidst my storming thoughts.

In some other world, we may have been friends. In a time where our timelines would match up, and neither of us would be too burdened to notice the struggles of the other. But not in this one. In this timeline, we are two worlds apart, she has her life, and I have mine. She seems happy, despite her struggles. She has friends that flank her everywhere, supporting her when she needs it and backing her up anytime something goes wrong. Yet I’m here alone. 

I never anticipated that our friendship might change. It had always been the same, yet it evolved with us, remaining as close knit as ever. The knit stitch to my purl. The pure joy that we could experience in eachothers’ company floating away on the wind like the vibrant autumn leaves. The sallow leaves lie crippled on the dismal pavements, the storms raging overhead. They fragment as time passes, and unrelenting footfalls crush and smother the beauty that once lay there, until it is buried deep into the past.

The happy girl from my childhood is gone. The one that squealed my name from halfway down the street when she saw me, or proudly presented her “bestest ever friend” to her parents as I shied away from the attention. That girl who could read me like a book, and knew my thoughts like a map on the back of her hand… gone. She had moved on from maps and books to the shiny appeal of new clothes and new people.

Collecting my thoughts and my belongings, I make my way towards the door, having to wait a few seconds for the aged sensor to register and shakily pull the door open, before I finally drag my feet all the way back home.

The next week comes and goes, yet another miserable week of classes and being scarcely acknowledged by her. Time flows, and remains transient despite its convoluted pathways. The minutes blur to hours to days and to weeks, until even I don’t know what day it is. Or month… Or why I even bother. 

As time passes, the distance grows. Once upon a time we were talking everyday, almost living in eachothers’ homes, but that quickly became the occasional visit, the occasional conversation, the occasional wave… The occasional acknowledgement. Until there was nothing left at all.

Until one day, when I’m leaving the building after hours, and I see her waiting. She’s sheltered from the rain, but not from the cold, or the thoughts that race through her head when left alone. Her shoulders fold in on themselves, shivering faintly, and her gaze rests at her feet. Through the glass, her frail silhoutte seems almost insignificant compared to the torrent unleashed from the skies above. 

[insert moody emotional scene]

Make your choice. The middle hurts.

~~~

She waved! She’s quick out the door when school ends, but she glances over her shoulder, her fair flicking around jubilantly, and smiles, waving me goodbye for the day. I rush after her, quickly shoving my books into my bag, as I run to catch up, just slipping through the door as it slides shut, triggering the door to open once again. 

Outside the sun beams, setting everything aglow with vibrant colours, and the slight limning of glitter on every surface. She talks animatedly about this and that, and I listen, watching her excitement, her frustration, and all of her emotions play out as if I were watching some kind of film. She speaks of adventures, of future dreams, but also the struggles of her life, the burdens of homework and family, and her feelings. She renders a layer of vision over the tree-lined street, painting it with illustrations of stormy weather, bright rainbows and splashes of paint, my mind in awe of her skillful words.

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