✿ l u k e ✿

"Do you have your money, Luke?" my mom asks me from the kitchen. I sigh and proceed to where she is and nod and return to the living room. I arrange the contents of my bag and take out my sketch pad. I lay it on the center table, open it to the first page, and run my finger over my first painting of Eleanor. She was wearing this worn-out Oasis sweater and her hair was in a ponytail. She was sitting on the bench outside the cafeteria. She had her headphones on, and she was writing something on her notebook. Trigonometry equations, I think. And her tongue was slightly sticking out. And she was so beautiful.

The sound of my mom's crutches being dragged against the hardwood floor pulls me out of my stupor. I hastily close my sketch pad and stuff it back in my bag.

My mom carefully makes her way towards me, one crutch after the other. The car accident that took place thirteen years ago affected my family differently. It killed my father and my older sister. It broke my mom's legs. And it left me with the inability to speak due to trauma. November 26, 2002 was the worst day of our life. We were driving on the way to my Aunt Isabelle's house for her annual thanksgiving dinner. It was too late to go back when we realized that the blizzard was developing too fast. Dad lost sight of the road, and then just like that, everything changed. My mom and I consider ourselves lucky to have survived the accident. But sometimes, whenever I get too frustrated with not being able to live like a normal teenager, I wish I was the one who got killed. I wish dad and Veronica survived the accident. Up until now, we're still grieving their death, and I swear to god, whenever mom sees me and her amputated legs, she breaks down in memory of that horrific car crash.

"Got everything you need?" she asks as she rubs my arm. What I admire about her is that even though she lost her legs, I'm still her top priority and she tries her best to be the best mom for a mute like me.

I nod once and kiss her on the cheek. The school bus honks outside so I leave the house immediately.

"Morning, Luke," the driver greets politely as I step into the bus.

I nod back at him in acknowledgement and look for a seat. All of the seats were taken expect the one behind the driver's seat. So I bite my lip and slowly sit down.

I plug in my earphones and take out my sketch pad, making sure to quickly turn to a blank page to prevent anyone from seeing my paintings of Eleanor. Whenever I'm not painting Eleanor, I draw other things that reflect my emotions. But right now, as usual, I'm feeling empty. So I sketch a guy who's sinking in the water with a blank expression on his face. This symbolizes how the water and the gravity are weighing him down, but he does nothing. He stays still.

Since I'm the last student to be fetched by the bus, I expect the bus to not stop by any bus stop anymore. But after a few more pencil strokes and seven minutes, the bus comes to a halt. Someone climbs in, and since there's no place left to sit, that person sits next to me.

I don't look up and continue sketching while subtly hiding my sketch pad from the person beside me. Due to the paranoia that the person next to me would see my drawing, I close it and look out the window. The view becomes a blur as my mind becomes overtaken by thoughts of Eleanor.

I sigh. Eleanor Eleanor Eleanor. She's like a broken record in my mind. Eleanor Eleanor Eleanor. She's the song I'm fond of humming whenever I'm doing some chores.

Eleanor Eleanor Eleanor.

I then feel someone tap my shoulder. I slowly take out an earbud, turn to the person next to me, and then freeze.


She's not only in my thoughts now.

She's right beside me.


i love writing this story omfg.
and i love everyone who's reading this rn.
and i love you
and yeah, our seniors graduated this morning. ill be missing them so much fuckign hell esp the guy i like sighhhghighighighighigh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck
anyway gratata swerve
bye lub u -angelika

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