The Days Of Kelsea's

(32) Demi - Everything

(32) Demi - Everything

Kelsea's diary keeps me up late at night, so I wake up late in the morning. This morning I slept over the alarm and now I am half running, half dragging myself to school, trampling over the pale pink petals of cherry blossoms on the road. Then the wind picks them up and they swirl around my feet, my legs, my waist.

The air is crisp, harsh and fresh, typical March. But we'll be in April soon, then comes May, and summer will be here soon enough before we can even register spring. And Kelsea will still be gone, probably never coming back.

The song floating into my ear drums from my headphones soothes me as I run, and jump, and leap over leaves and puddles and grids, and my heart seems to beat to the voice.

And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones

Because most of our feelings are dead and they are gone

Setting fire to our insides for fun.

I am late for school by about fifteen minutes, but Miss Ceb, the art teacher doesn't mind. The others in the class are in various corners, and they ignore me as usual. One boy has blue hair, one girl has a nose ring - the rest are just as extravagant, but in personality.

I go over to my canvas on its easel near the back, ready to lose myself in my art, to smooth my soul, to widen the bridges in my mind. I set down my bag, go to collect my paints, and then, prepared to create something new, I stand in front of the canvas I've been working on previously, and-

I scream; the sound seems to be wrenched from my throat by something I'm unaware of. One girl drops her pot of water and a boy jumps so much that he splatters paint over the floor.

But they are just minor details in the background; the main thing that is terrorising my insides and making me want to cry is the huge brown and black and purple splodge on my canvas that used to be my half-finished masterpiece. And it really was going to be something spectacular.

"What is it!" Miss Ceb exclaims wildly, running over. She comes to stand by my side but I don't see her, just sense her, because I can't take my eyes away from the disaster.

"Oh God!" She gasps in horror. Out of the corner of my eye I see her place her hand over her mouth.

For a few seconds, I am paralysed, as the teacher comes out with helpless phrases such as, "Oh, Demi . . ." And "We will find the person who did it!"

A few people gather round to see what's going on, and I slowly turn around to look at them all.

"Whichever one of you did it, I'm not going to make you forget it," I hear myself whisper shakily.

A bright-eyed girl with blonde hair called Eileen steps forwards. "I don't think it would have been any of us, Demi."

"And why not?" I snap. "Someone in here wants to get the top mark, and they don't want me in the way, as a threat!"

A goth type boy called Mark over in the corner who hasn't come over to gather round snorts, then puts down his pencil. Already, fire is rushing through me as everyone starts to come over - by now, all the people in the class are stood by me, except him.

"You've obviously got an enemy," Mark tells me cockily from the other side of the room.

I walk over to him angrily, then glare up into the part of his face I can see which isn't obscured by his black hair. "It was you, wasn't it?"

Miss Ceb sighs. "Demi, you can't just blame-"

"Why the hell would I do something like that?" Mark asks, looking almost amused. He turns away and picks up his pencil again, then starts to sketch. I can't tell what his picture is going to be yet, but all of a sudden I just want to ruin it.