Every morning, I open the window in my bedroom and feel the wind hit my face. For a second, it's like she's there. Her hands running through my hair, and her soft lips on my cheek. But this morning she wasn't there. Because today isn't like any other day; today I go back to a certain place. A place that holds so many memories, memories of her... The way she would laugh at my lame jokes, and how she would act so serious and nod when I was explaining something, all along holding back a smile. I close my eyes, letting the darkness consume such thoughts, and finally head into the shower.
The running water reminds me of the rainy nights we shared. She'd get up in the middle of the night to open my bedroom window. She used to say the raindrops dancing on the roof weren't tears, but rather shouts of joy...the joy of being freed, the joy of no longer being identified as part of a "cloud" , but themselves as individuals. A complete individual with its own shape or form.
I lean against the shower wall as the tears run down my face, becoming one stream of water as they reach the drain. I run my hands gently over my sides, reliving her touch from that wonderful night-the way her lips felt against my own, the rush of her warmth against mine.
"Kat," I whisper softly as I hug myself, "why? How could you have left me?" My voice breaks as my whispers turn into angry shouts. My back slides down the wall as sobs of mourning escape my lips. I get back on my feet and remember what she used to say.
"Strong is the girl that cries alone, but also smiles when on her own." And with her words in mind, I wipe every tear away and step out of the shower. I wrap a towel around my slim body frame, and look at myself in the mirror. I smile as I think of her, remembering that she wouldn't approve of my tears.
I take every T-shirt out of my closet, yet I have nothing to wear. I finally decide on a white, fitted V-neck and some denim skinny jeans. I throw my backpack over my shoulder and look over myself in the mirror by my bedroom door, making sure my eyeliner is intact. I smile and walk out, locking the door behind me.
I make my way through the busy sidewalks downtown, dreading the path I had chosen to take to school. The music roaming through my earbuds make the whole world silent. Men walk by with their suits and brief cases, and women frown in discomfort as their high heels turn into a burden. An honest smile spreads across my pink lips as one of Kat's favorite songs becomes louder through my eardrums. This song. Her happy song- the one that would automatically make her hands go up in the air and start dancing around the room like a wild child. I used to simply sit back on my bed and watch her eyelids close over chocolate brown eyes, her hips swaying back and forth to the beat of the bass.
The scent of the recently waxed floor and the smell of coffee coming from the teachers' lounge trigger a storm in my mind. I inhale slowly as I try to keep a clear head. The hallways are empty, except for the occasional rebel arriving late to class. I start biting my lower lip- a habit I had gotten rid of over the years, but now I'm here again. I bend over as I realize my right shoe is untied. I smile as I notice a small hole revealing my colorful socks through my favorite pair of Vans. I wipe my sweaty palms down my skinny jeans, and double check to make sure my v-neck isn't too revealing and the sleeves cover most of my quarter sleeve of tattoos. As for my hair, I actually tried to do something about it this morning, but obviously failed as it now lingers down my shoulders-some parts blond over the chestnut brown.
I shifted my weight on the bench and not-so-patiently waited, trying to decide whether this school had some sort of policy over students using their music devices. Not that I cared, so I pulled out my iPhone from my back pocket and began searching my bag for my Beats.
Once I actually found them, I started the long process of untangling them, but not without noticing the good-looking couple standing some feet away from me.
