Orbit

i

Today I turn seventeen.

One year older than the day I was put in orbit.

I actually have no clue how I got here. But I'm certain, one day, I will get out.

I wake to the sound of the kettle boiling. A bubbling sound of hot water travels through the rooms to reach my ears, giving me a sense of nostalgia.

I remember when my Mum used to get up every morning at exactly 7:00, and make me a cup of tea. Two sugars, mostly milk.

Now I have coffee.

I can't bear to make myself a cup of tea without wanting it all back, desperately. And coffee helps me stay alert. Coffee is probably the best way to go when every night is a sleepless night.

I pull my exhausted body off the sofa, and plod into the kitchen. As I do I pass the family photos on the wall of the dining room. There is a stylish black frame, made up of ten smaller frames in all different shapes and sizes, creating a decade of family photos on display. My icy blue eyes are drawn to one of the ten photographs.

In the top left hand corner, I see a photo taken in the hospital room, the day I was born. My Mum is sunk against the pillows placed behind her, dark hair a tangle of knots and tats, sweat running down her forehead, soft, hazel eyes droopy.

And yet she is still beautiful.

Next to her, in a chair is my Father. My Dad. He is looking up at the camera, his blue eyes filled with tears, a warm smile of pride and joy upon his lips. I am on his lap, my tiny hand wrapped around his finger. My wide blue eyes stare up at the camera, innocent and curious.

I, of course, can't remember a single thing about that day. But my parents had always told me I didn't cry a single tear. Strong, brave, little Nova.

I dry the tears spilling from my eyes and continue plodding until I read the doorway to the kitchen. My Mum is standing up straight, her long brown hair traipsing down the perfectly clean, white dressing gown that reaches her ankles.

She stirs her tea with her left hand, as her right hand is holding a phone up to her ear, a high pitched voice coming out of it.

She turns around, her dark brown eyes sliding around the kitchen, looking at every place except me.

"No Gillian, I needed them before today."

Even when my Mum is meant to be negative or urgent, she still sounds so elegant and calm.

I hear a few squeaks on the other end, and then my mum lets out a sigh.

I turn around, unable to watch anymore. My heart aches for the life I never meant to lose.

I inale. Calm down, Nova. You can't be weak. It's your birthday. I exhale. You can do this. Now go and get dressed. I walk up the stairs to my bedroom door, shut and closed off before me. The bedroom beside mine is open, I peek in to see my dad asleep, snoring loud enough to wake all of London.

I smile to myself and turn towards my bedroom, opening the door.

As I step in, I am greeted with a smell that has became all too familiar. A kind of smell that can only be associated with the colour pink. A fresh, berry kind of smell. Pomegranate, maybe? Some sort of fruit or flower?

My bedroom hasn't been touched since I left. It's still perfectly clean and neat, everything in place. Just the way I need it to be.

I allow my eyes to scan the room, everything I see showing off my old life.

Green is my favourite colour. I had insited that everything in my room was green "Okay, Nova. It's your room, your space. But at least add another colour or two so not everything is green?"

I chose purple, white and green. And I guess it was a good choice. It looks okay.

It's home.

I sigh and rub my eyes, my vision is still slightly blurred from sleep. I take a few steps forward letting the soft, furry rug on my floor fit between my bare toes. I slump down on my bed and lay there for a few minutes.

I hear my dad sneezing. He's contstantly sneezing because of the flowers my mum has in the house, there's at least 2 in each room, all different colours. Flowers are my mum's passion. Our garden is filled with a rainbow of colours. Even black flowers. They're my favourite - they never loose their colour, even when they're dying or drooping.

I hear the 'bloop' noises of the hot water being poured into my mum's mug.
Getting up off my bed, I walk back to the kitchen. I see my Mum and Dad both in there, my Dad scurring around grabbing toast and jam in a hurry, my mum like a calm little petal amongst the wind.

"Mum. Dad."

Nothing.

"I turned seventeen today. You know, at 6:34." I take a deep breath, "So I'm now seventeen years and forty-three minutes old."

Still nothing.

"Ryan. Our Nova is seventeen today." My Mum sniffs.

Wait.

"M-hm. I know." My Dad still faces the wall, his back to me and my mum. He turns around, his eyes red and puffy. From sleep or crying, I don't know.

"Happy birthday Nova." He gives a weak smile and sniffs aswell.

My mum replies the same, "Happy birthday Nova."

I turn around before it gets too much, my eyes welling up with tears. You can't cry. I sniff and head to my room to get dressed.

My parents never enter my bedroom, they just leave the door closed. I don't know if it's because they don't like remembering or something else, but I'm glad they do - it means I can still be in my bedroom without them seeing things floating around or whatever.

I head to my wardrobe, my fingers flicking through the clothes that are hanging up. My hand reaches for a grey t-shirt and a pair of blue denim shorts.

I slide into my clothes, brushing through my hair, and tying it up in a ponytail. Nobody can see me so there's no point in actually trying. I could walk around naked if I wanted to, but there's no way I would.

After washing my face and brushing my teeth I plod into the living room before I leave. I grab my phone, keys and earphones before opening the door to my home and setting off for school.

I shouldn't even go, I hate school. I hate it even more than I used to, now that I can't even talk to anyone there. But things are still so much easier than before, I can eat in class and walk around without asking to leave. I can join whatever clubs without being embarrassed to attend. I can even skip some classes without ever being noticed.
But I don't, I guess ever since being put in orbit, there was no point to my life. I didn't need to be smart, or fall in love, or have money, or do anything normal. But normality is all I have left. If I didn't attend school, or do normal stuff, like learn and study, what would I do?
And as my invisible body dragged me to school, I realised that I am too scared to find out.

-

Meh? Idk.