When the sky falls, do we fall with it too?
I tilted my head as my pen accelerated along with the speed of my hands twirling the object, trying to figure out how to possibly answer this particular philosophical question without making anything repetitive. Truth to be told, this range of fascination is not my cup of to formally start with, but I would rather not go through my hours of lectures in my free time either.
Tyler scoffed, “How stupid.”
“Finally, something I can agree with you on,” I responded with slight humor, though a bad one. He pulled away, seemingly staring at me from what I can briefly observe as my sight barely matched his glance. An odd rustic noise had appeared, which I can, furthermore, only guess came from the friction of the old wooden structure. I still refused to say anything, not out of spite but more so for the fact that it is a library we are in.
Tyler’s phone lit up, again. He should have turned it off ages ago, but he had not. Why hadn’t he? I felt a miniscule knot bearing cold jumps in my stomach instantly. It dawned on me, but for no ordinary rationale. Ignoring the innocent grumbles that trailed within, I thoroughly hitched my head high, completely obliterated by his presence.
“Hey,” He started, “How about we get spliced after this semester?”
I blinked in surprise and retracted my hands, barely tucking my unruly collective strands of hair behind my hair all the while Tyler shifted closer to his back and wrapped an arm around his waist. Considering quite the bold move, I immediately hindered myself from acting out any more simply out of pure ecstatic.
My voice broke in a nasal tone, “Of course.”
He dredged up the will to smile, and so did I. Hoping that it would be more of a comfort rather than an unwanted gesture, I found my cold hand reserving a novice site on top of his.
These words struck a chord within my incarnation. Seven muted and familiar notes. They were not discordant, but instead a bittersweet harmony accompanied by his unlasting desires of passion. Maybe if I had only noticed the manifestations on my arms, on my neck, on my body earlier — just maybe, things would have taken a whole new route without hatching a new fruit of life.
“I wish you were a bit more confident about yourself.”
Yes, that is right. Tyler crouched before his own son and smiled softly, gently pinching his tinted rose cheeks; all his attention directly concentrated on the tiny glob of what I could only describe as euphoria. At any given point of time, my heartbeat could have easily been separated from my own chamber. What captured my utmost attention, however, was how it continued to prompt its fragile head sideways without any aid from outside. His dark hair fell in curtains to just below his forehead, framing the rough face of someone who must’ve forgotten what it feels like to bask in the sun.
“I wish you believed in yourself more.”
Fireflies tiptoeing the lanterns of my camouflage worries, I depleted my broken bars alone; rage one at a time conquering the unconvinced that cracked my anxiety bits and pieces to oblivion. I stopped halfway, sighting none of them, for they have been forcibly taken, stripped and snatched away from my kind grasp.
“I wish I had known.”
Resentment began to fall upon me that engulfed my sole existence with miscalculated shards of violent pain and alarming horror as I started to contemplate whether or not this was the best, if not remotely the better decision to start with. No prior knowledge, no nothing. I spiked myself forward and grumbled to stand above the stiff green fragments that barely managed to butcher me, somewhere finding myself beneath what you would call a dusk of madness.
Do you know the meaning of this?
Of course I don’t.
This is a green willow, dear.
“It represents false love.”