"I'm tired." grumbled Waylon, leaning against the wall.
"It's only been 10 minutes since we left." I retorted. I couldn't help but feel slightly amused that he's this fragile. "The bus stop is over there, you twig."
"Sticks and stones, sticks and stones." Waylon let out a groan. "It feels like an hour...are we there yet?"
The bus stop was the place we were supposed to bid goodbye. Why was he almost too eager about this?
I pulled out my phone. "10 minutes. See? Now shut up." I spat. I could insult him further, but when I looked into his eyes...I just stopped.
Just then, a new message appeared. "Oh, who's THAT?" Waylon gasped.
"It's from my friend, ugh..."
I looked at the message. It was from my childhood friend, Ellie.
Hey Della! The next episode of Has-been Motel is out, watch it with me tomorrow!
I scowled. I got over that stupid show already. I had better things to do than watching it.
Sorry, not interested. I typed back.
What??? Okay, that's enough, geez! Aren't we best friends????
When did I say she was? I frowned. I didn't know how to reply.
Answer me!
I sighed and slipped my phone in the pocket. I didn't want to hear anything from her any further.
I've been so used to her crap.
"Bitch." I mouthed. "Stupid fucking bitch."
"Um..." Waylon frowned. "What happened?"
"Ellie's being annoying again." I confessed. "Not that you're any better."
"And she looks horrible, matching her personality." Waylon smirked. "Your hair is, too."
I rolled my eyes.
"You wanna impress a boy now?"
I sighed and looked up. The bus stop was in sight, and a smile beamed in Waylon's already charming face.
"Oh, finally!" he yelped and grabbed my hand. "We're there."
"Ugh, everyone can hear you!" I complained and let go of his hand.
A sudden emptiness filled my heart. It was time for me to turn right and take my detour home. And home was hell. In some ways, I just didn't want to leave him.
"Hey." He nudged me. "Walk a little faster."
The pang in my heart grew stronger and stronger.
Why was he so eager about leaving me?
He sprinted towards it and found a place to sit down. I let my eyelids fall. "Well, uh, time for you to go." Waylon suggested and leaned against his chair.
"Oh, um..." I muttered. "Guess I gotta head back home!"
"See ya?"
I sighed. My fears were confirmed once again—Did he want me to leave?
"See ya." I looked down.
I turned my back and started to walk back home. I couldn't help but look back, but when I did, he was gone.
It's been three times.
Guess he did want me to leave after all.
"Well, uh, time for you to go."
Was I acting too clingy with him? Then it would be natural that he disliked me. I thought of Ellie's message...even the universe is sending me a sign that he hated my guts.
Why would he ever think of anything else, anyway? In my entire life, I'd been called clingy so many times. Now I knew better than to genuinely love anyone, or it'd end in vain.
"Ugh." I whispered and kicked a pebble.
Something was wrong. It was soft to the touch.
I looked up to see an old woman picking up oranges on the floor and glaring into my soul. Her face was expressionless.
And then I looked down to the pebble. It was a damn orange. I kicked a damn old lady's orange.
Great, now I was even more of a terrible person.
"I—" I picked up the orange and handed it to her. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.
"Eh?" she wheezed as her shaky hands gripped onto the orange firmly. "For what?"
"Um, well..." I couldn't tell the truth now and be seen as even more of a jerk. "Nothing."
"Oh, thank you, dearie!"
"No problem, uh..." I stammered. My mind went blank. Should I just tell her, or...
"What's wrong, dear?" She tilted her head at me. "Good girl!"
I growled. I couldn't take any more of this guilt-tripping bullshit. I spun on my heels and headed for somewhere I could hide and get a hold of myself.
I scanned the streets—it was bursting with people and fat ladies screaming, at the market. There were cockroach corpses on the floor. I winced.
And then my ears buzzed. The loud noises were spears to my ears, but something's worse.
I felt their gazes falling on me.
No, no, no, everyone saw me kicking her orange. My blood ran cold, and I touched my hands. They were sweaty.
I needed to calm myself, fast. I looked at my watch—30 minutes till my curfew was over.
Home will have to wait.
I took out my notebook and continued scribbling. I've heard it calms people down from Waylon.
Not that I could truly take a break from everything wrong with my life, anyway. In about 50 minutes, my life had gone from shit to even shittier. From being shoved aside in group projects to being shoved aside by your best friend. From embarrassing incidents in Science Class to nearly assaulting an innocent old lady.
What am I doing, fussing over something that's already shit? I scoffed to myself. As if it's gonna change.
"I'm wasting time." I muttered to myself as I grabbed my pen and began to write. And not about myself, either. I'm not going to write about an obstacle that has no end.
YOU ARE READING
Spearheart: Children of The Night
Fantasy"Will this nightmare ever end?" thought Della, looking up at the stars. The lights shimmered through the stars, and then it dissolved-she was crying. Waylon wasn't here. Archer wasn't here. Not even her dad was here, which was the only reason she ca...
