There Is No Ama

Chapter Two

I was curious as to whether or not that mysterious girl would be showing up at the fence the next day, and spent the whole night sitting in awkward suspense, shivering under my thick covers. My mind wouldn't stop replaying scenarios of what could have been, showing me glimpses of her lovely hair and soft golden eyes that stalked my every move with precision.

Sleep, as expected, did not come easy, but I did manage to come to peace of mind by the time the stars were swallowed up by the early morning's rain clouds. I didn't speak a word to my mother that night, not even during dinner when normal conversation was encouraged, because I knew she wouldn't approve. But inside that feeling of release, of seeing beyond the four corners of the world I knew, was swelling, trying to break free. In the absence of friends it had gotten worse, and now it was the only thing I looked forward to.

I practically leapt out of class the next day, feet carrying me faster and faster. Several times I stumbled, knees scraping dirt and turning into a combination of mud brown and scarlet red. The train of thought inside my head had halted and was ignored in favour of chasing the desire of reaching the fence. Of seeing if the abandoned sweet little girl would come back again after the offer of friendship was turned down so bluntly.

And so I kept up my pace, even when my stomach cramped, until the rolling grassland predicted a dip. It was then I slowed my pace from a run, to a jog, and finally a walk. My lungs heaved for precious air, legs burning with a fire only lit during the adrenaline rush of chase or gym class. It felt good, like I was alive, and I could care less about the ripping fabric near the bottoming ends of my uniform dress. If anything, the added liberty it gave was intoxicating.

When I first peeked my head over the edge, I was momentarily saddened by the image presented. No one was present, not a raven nor a doe-eyed girl. It was barren, dead, the mist rolling in as to persuade me to turn back. My mind searched for logic- tried to convince me it was some mistake, but my gut couldn't hide the clenching motion. I had done it, I had been foolish to think she would come back.

My head was screaming at me to give up the act, to accept she was a stranger I shouldn't have associated with. My heart conflicted this with a cry for friendship, for someone to talk to. I was reaching my breaking point now that tattletaling was no longer a viable option. I wanted- no, needed someone now.

That very same desperation curled in my stomach, the seeds planted and ready to grow. As if an answer to my prayers when I looked up next, out in the miserable drizzle was the same tiny girl, rocking back and forth on her heels as she hummed a loud tune with two moist lips pressed firmly together. She sported the same laced dress as yesterday, except this time it was tinted bronze at the ends because of the mud soaking through.

I at first wondered why someone so pristine and soft as herself would come all the way out here, especially in the damp weather, but I didn't dare question it aloud. I also didn't question how or when she has appeared from under my nose, amounting it to the fog or poor eyesight on my behalf. For me, I was happy my previous rejection hadn't scared her off. The age of my brain meant comprehending the arrival was beyond me at that point in time. Perhaps living in that simple world was easier.

Her allure, that fairytale aspect of her was too much to pass up. The same emotions I had experienced yesterday were reviving, but under a deeper hold. It snatched onto my thoughts like mind control and overrode that need that consumed me, convincing me that someone like her had to have answers. As a result, I didn't even check to see if I was being followed before I was sliding down the slope that blocked the both of us from view. Mud splashed up from underneath my shoes, cloaking my legs in a brown paint that felt applicable to slime. It itched, once the cold sensation that it carried became null.