Our Struggle

H is for Hell

10 years ago

Noah met up with me everyday after school for the next three months. Each day, he'd walk with me to Cafe Mon, not that we'd actually go in, we'd part ways outside - both going to the opposite ends of town. Me to my private estate, and him to his council flat.

We were from two different worlds - two different universes. Rich and poor. Powerful and powerless. Strong and weak. Opportunities and challenges.

I didn't understand what business my father had with Noah's - my father never worked with the poor.

Rich and poor don't mix - that's what my mother used to say. They just don't mix. And for a good while, I believed her.

Until I met Noah.

A skinny boy with unruly hair and a pair of scratched glasses, who had the audacity to follow me around like a blue bottle.

We hardly spoke - well, I hardly spoke. Noah did all the talking, gibbering on about this and that. I just tried my hardest to tune him out. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. In fact, whenever I was alone (mostly at school), it was more bearable. Because I knew I'd see him after and he'd distract me with his pointless chatter. But I'd never tell him that.

The school bell had just rung - its sound echoing around my ear drums as I fiddled with a now crumpled tissue. I I fixed my rucksack onto my back as I watched girls pile out of the school entrance, scurrying like insects, to their fancy cars.

My father never bothered to pick me up - nor did he ever bother sending me a driver. The fewer people knew about my existence the better, in his eyes.

I tottered on my heels, my black school shoes scuffing the ground as I waited. My ears perked for the usual high-pitched calling of my name. Standing under a twisted tree, away from all the after school riff raff and tooting, I waited.

Awkwardly.

I waited for fifteen minutes, which soon turned into half an hour. Chewing on my lip, I checked my phone - not that Noah had my number, but just to make it seem like I was ok being alone. Time to check the weather for the fiftieth time today.

This was the third day he had done this. Bile rose up my throat as a flood of thoughts filled my mind. I was too used to getting ditched. And it never gets any easier.

"Ari!" A squeal came from behind me as I heard a clatter of footsteps.

Go away. Please, just go away.

My heart quickened as my hand fell by side, still clutching my phone. Like a deer in headlights, I turned around.

Silver Grey flashed me her dazzling smile - one that seemed to bewitch any person her eyes fell upon. "Ari, do you mind?" She asked, her voice like thick honey, as she held out her (almost) top model iPhone. My eyes flickered to the group of girls that posed behind her, clearly waiting for a photo. "We're doing class photos." She explained further, tucking a lock of her glossy hair behind her ear. Her voice was so soft and so freaking clueless.

Class photos?

My tongue curled behind my teeth as the saliva from my mouth dried up in an instant. My eyes flickered between Silver and then her friends. Silver and her friends. Classmates. My classmates. Would it kill them to ever invite me for once?