Awkward

~VALENTINE'S DAY /SPECIAL/~

last year.

—— ⭊ ——

/FEBRUARY 14th/

Today's supposed to be a day where everyone's happy, in love or something — but I'm not in love; I'm not happy.

The floorboard groans before I even think about getting up from my mattress. It feels like my four walls draw closer together everyday, suffocating me; it feels like my four walls might just collapse at any moment. It feels like one impulsive stomp anywhere might send me six feet under. I've been staring at the soft brown rain-stained ceiling for... I don't know how long.

I get off my mattress, which is on the floor, and I dust it off then grab the clothes I was resting my head on. It's an "all-purpose pair".

The sharp smell of thick dust stings my nose as I walk around. Hmph. Around. You can't walk around in my room. There's a stove and a toilet crammed on opposite sides, a mattress taking up most of the floor, my school books taking up the rest. It would probably only take three lunges to be in the next room.

An enormous toad bounds past me and I almost rush out my door but - but it's a curtain. I grab the broom leaning on my wall and sweep the tunnels of ant sand off, warding it away.

Ella walks into my room barefoot in the pyjamas Kavi got for her birthday. She gets pyjamas.
Her curly hair looks just like the dust. It looks like it hasn't been combed since she was born and it grows out of her head like fuzzy brown snakes.

"Do you have the mirror?" she asks.
I hand her a shard of glass from under my mattress and she walks out, listlessly staring at what has become too much of a standard to be unfamiliar.

Putting the broom back, I reach under my mattress and find the book I've been reading. I didn't steal it. I found it in the park.

I like reading; it makes me feel like I get to live as someone other than me. I mean, for as long as it lasts, I can just attach myself to whatever character I identify with most and just share in their experiences.

I've been trying to read it slowly though, because I know it won't last - and when it's over, I'll be back to where I started:

Empty.

But to escape, even for just as long as the story lasts, is a world better than the pain without it.

Kavi bursts into my room and I hide my book behind me. He's tightly folded his jeans up to his ankles and he's.. he's in new sneakers.
"Kavi did you..—"

—"YOU WERE REEEAADING, INNIT??!!"
He leaps towards me. "LEMME SEE THAT TING. COME ON LEMME SEE IT YOU LITTL—"

"Kavi did you steal those sneakers?"

And the whole household is quiet. Everyone heard, obviously. Nobody will do anything. He wrestles me to the floor and covers my mouth.

"Kavi..." I mumble into his big hand.
He lets me go and rises to his feet, but I stay on the floor.

"I didn't steal!" he responds, hand to his striped white shirt as if he's addressing a whole committee. As he does so, his shirt tightens around his upper arms like it might rip if he holds it there. "My boys and I won them in a match yesterday," he explains.

"A street match?" I ask, lying down. I'm powerless to get up or even do anything but I just have to ask. I know the answer but I don't know why I'm hoping he'll say, 'No, against Manchester United, of course!'

He nods, flicking an imaginary fly off his collar as if I'm supposed to be proud of that. I roll into a seated position.

"Kavi when will you give up?"