Over Again | ✓

O r e n d a

Chapter One

❝ the past is the best
prophet of the future ❞
;
Lord Byron

Can you feel the breeze of the wind?

What about the sun's rays on you?

Did you like how it made you momentarily blind?

The way he did to you?

12:51 am. Eyes wide awake per usual. Voice memos playing in my Walkman. Sheets messed up.

Summer began today- on the 20th of June. And it wasn't going the way I planned it to be. I didn't go to the doctor; didn't ask for prescription pills to help me sleep. And I knew that my summer was going to go shit. Same old, same old.

I wanted this summer to be different, though. This was my last summer before I go to College and fulfill the dreams of my mother; my last summer to move on and live. But I couldn't. Not when I could feel the tug of the things trying to hold me back.

I closed my eyes and wiped my clammy hands to my jeans, my head hitting the headboard. "I just want to live, Troy. Why can't you let me go?"

Troy is my boyfriend. At least he used to be because he died last year, on June 20. It was just all fun and games. A silly group of friends hanging out together and having fun. Nothing unusual, at least not to us. But the next day, when I went to his house to ask him why he didn't visit me for our usual pillow talks, he was there in his room. I thought that he was just asleep, his dark and curly hair messed up as always. I remember sitting beside him, pushing his hair away from his eyes and planting a kiss on his forehead. How I loved him.

I loved him so much it hurt. He loved me too. I remember whispering I love you and good morning, waiting for him to wake up. But he never did. And maybe the love that we had wasn't enough for the other to stay. Not when he left me. Why?

Pills. He had overdosed on them the night before. Troy was an insomniac like me. And ever since we got together, it was the norm for us for him to visit me at night and talk and talk and talk until we both fall asleep. I never knew that things would eventually escalate between us this way.

He was one of those people who always had a goofy smile on their faces and you just know that he's going to have a good life ahead of him. Goodbye, Troy. It's about time I move on. Thank you for everything.

**

Surprisingly, mom was making breakfast. She never made breakfast at home. Never.

The smell of onions wafted through the air as she said, "Are you going to visit him today?"

I froze, the bread midway to my mouth. She knew. "No." I replied, my voice hoarse. I resumed my eating. I'd turn gangly this year and could count a few number of my ribs. Eating was as easy for me as sleeping was.

She hummed in response and transferred whatever it was she was cooking into a plate and sat in front of me with such elegance she it was almost regal.

Everybody said that I looked like my mom. Same chestnut hair, deep set and honey eyes and a dainty nose. We could pose as twins at some point. Our personality was different by a thousand miles and I'm more than thankful for that.

"Have you emailed Harvard yet?" Mom was deeply set on the idea of me being a lawyer that there was no changing her mind.

I tied my hair in a low ponytail and fixed my glasses, "I'm still thinking about it."