Violets are Blue (ONC 2021)

chapter thirteen

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Chapter Thirteen

Milana Fallaci

The following day, Milana found herself at school again. Just like any other day, a note was in her hands; the palm of her thumbs tracing the bumpy paper.

A thrill of excitement fluttered in her heart and she was curious of what Anonymous had written in this note—the one she was holding right now.

With trembling hands, she unfolded the wrinkled piece of paper, and just like always, a familiar, gorgeous cursive was scribbled in ink.

No one knew of their struggles,

for they were wearing porcelain masks.

During the day, their lips curled into small smiles,

and during the night, glassy tears were shed.

❤ anonymous

Whoever it was behind such remarkable writing had a way with words. Milana could never perceive how someone could fall in love with writing, but that was before—before a jar of love notes appeared in her locker. After that occurred, she understood what they meant. Falling in love with writing was possible. In fact, she was experiencing it right now. Each word carefully picked to assemble a poetic sentence drew her in farther and farther until she was fully emerged in a figment of her imagination, thanks to a few simple words. It was a remarkable thing—how, with the right words, someone could venture to the corners of the universe in which they never thought they'd travel to.

Reading was like running—an escape. While Milana preferred running over emerging one's self in a book, both were similar despite their differences. Reading distracted people from their problems, so did running. Both were perfect medicines for ignoring the pain, and Milana needed both in order to escape the agony of the fresh wounds and past memories.

Her phone buzzed, pulling Milana out of her trance. She frowned and slipped out her phone, wondering who could possibly be texting her at such an early hour. Aster never texted her in the morning unless it was urgent, so who was it?

Hey. You're looking sleepy alright. You okay?

It was from Riven. A small smile tugged on Milana's lips and she glanced up from her phone. She scanned the faces of the crowd gathering in front of her locker area, some chatting to their friends and others strolling through this part of the hallways.

She stopped when a familiar boy who was leaning against his locker, looking down on his phone, caught her sight. His hair was a fluff of brown and one of his hands were tucked into his jean pockets.

Riven.

He looked up from his phone as if he had sensed Milana's eyes on him. He lit up when he noticed her and waved shyly, a cheeky smile on his freckled face.

Milana waved back, suddenly shy and nervous. A blush tinted on her cheeks embarrassed that he had caught her staring.

Yeah. I'm fine, she texted back.

She knew she wasn't telling the whole truth. There was a reason behind the heavy purple bags hanging under her eyes; she hadn't been able to sleep for a few days because her mother's death kept creeping up on her and she kept having nightmares of that day—the day Rue died.