The Eye Of The Ankh #Wattys2016

Chapter Eighteen

These are the spaces I confide

These are the narrow crevices

These are the places I reside

There are the secure refuges

Upstairs attics with small windows

The quiet corners where I go

The hidden chambers no one knows

Downstairs cellars through secret doors

There I have my own room for dreaming

Room to create and postulate

Pose questions and probe for meaning

Riddles and rhymes to contemplate

In there the world does not dictate

And there I have less room for hate.

I have discovered my happy place. And how lucky I am that I'm able to travel there any time I please. Most happy places lie in the imagination, or in works of fiction. But here, in the dusty attic, I find peace.

It took me hours to find it, but I finally did. A poem I was to read and research in eleventh grade. Sonnet 13 – Poetry's interstices, Michael Dom. He's not a famous poet, just one who posted his poems on the internet for the world to see at one of the dozens of poetry sites.

All I remembered was how much I liked it. I didn't really remember the words or even if it rhymed, just that it made me calmer.

Eleventh grade was a very rough time.

I sat in the attic, looking out the big window. The rest of the attic was dark, save for a dusty lamp I turned on. Outside, it started to snow, really snow. Fat flakes fell to the earth in peaceful silence. The dead grass welcomed it, embraced it. The snow was already sticking around, every few flakes latching onto the window.

The glass was cold, but I continued to lean against the window anyway. Only my cheek touched it, only my cheek became so cold.

I found an old CD player and old CDs. There were all classical music, played low, because eventually the orchestra becomes annoying after a while. But, hey, at least I can dig Beethoven.

At least an inch had fallen already and a snow plow took over the streets, stopping us from staying home from school tomorrow. Anna would let me stay home, I think. If not, I'll pretend to be sick. Monday just doesn't seem inviting.

Oh shit.

Valentine's Day is coming up, and for the second time in my life, I have someone to celebrate it with.

Shit.

I sneezed, my nose starting to run. I pulled off of the glass and shut off the CD player and the lamp. I walked downstairs and begged Anna to make me a cup of tea. "Lemon, two scoops of sugar." I gave a smile. I'm sure I didn't look one hundred percent at the moment.

Anna smiled. "I'll make two."

Tuesday, I sat waiting in my car for Ethan. When he pulled up next to me, I started to gather my things and mentally prepared myself for the cold. I opened the door and met Ethan between the two cars. "Hey," I said, his hand already reaching for mine. I welcomed the warmth. "Are we doing anything special for Valentine's day?"

"Oh shit, I guess that's this weekend. I don't know, it's probably too late to eat out somewhere nice. We could see a movie or something."

I nodded. "Maybe. There isn't much that looked good that's out now. Maybe we could rent something." I said, walking into the school's doors, the warmth wrapping around me. The tips of my ears were still cold.

Ethan smiled. "How about this: You come over to my place Saturday—around six—and we go from there?"

I smiled. "You've got something planned, don't you?"

He smirked. "Maybe..."

I pushed his shoulder slightly and he grabbed my hand, pulling me to his lips. I blushed under his kiss, trying to pull away. I've always hated PDA like this. Any PDA in general, really.

When Ethan let go, from over his shoulder I saw Hugo, his face a mixture of different emotions. Anger. Envy. Happiness. Sadness. He gave a passing smile and walked off.

Something heavy dropped in my stomach and I felt incredibly guilty.

But why?