How To Love A Dead Boy

Chapter 8 | Fragmented Memories

FRAGMENTED MEMORIES

There is nothing more reassuring as the sound of the school bell at the end of the day. Then again, there is nothing more chaotic as the rush of people scrambling and shoving in their escape from the school grounds. Lost in thought over Cameron, my mental state and Ryden, I make my way to the locker bay, in a zombie-like fashion.

All I want to do is go home. Well, that could be a lie. If anything, all I want to do is get back to my normal life, but somehow, I know that the chance of that is slim. As I put away books and pack some more into the school bag, I get to thinking; did I really want my normal, old, life? Did I want to go back to the way things were last Monday?

What is my normal life? A top student, spending lunchtimes listening to bullshit gossip flow from my friends' mouths and always trying to convince myself that I am above everyone in this school, let alone, trying my hardest with the help of Cameron to also convince myself that I'm more of a person than my mother? Thinking back on it now, I can't help but feel as though my old life only ever revolved around myself; everyone else around me always seemed like obstacles preventing me from doing what I wanted. Of course I never told anyone that, but it was how I felt at times.

I walk out the front doors. The rain has stopped so I have no need for my raincoat or wellingtons, but I put them on anyway. I unchain my bike and take the handlebars, beginning to wheel it out of the school grounds. Outside the yard, I jump on and slowly ride along the footpaths, dinging my bell to get people out of my way.

Once I'm out of the density of suburbia and ride onto the main road into town, I begin riding on the road, wary to be careful of opening car doors ready to knock me off at any moment. As I'm just about to leave town and go onto the highway, I get an unwanted message from my bladder.

I squirm around a bit on the bike, keeping the handlebars steady, but the urge doesn't go away. Pressing my thighs together tightly, I bite down on my lip as I try to think of a solution. Like a sight from Heaven, I see the old petrol station up ahead and internally smile in relief; but I'm not there yet.

Peddling like a maniac, I get closer and closer to the petrol station. I turn into the driveway and jump off my bike, leaving it against the outside window. I run inside and the clerk looks up at me warily, as if he'd been asleep on the counter all day.

"Can I have to the keys to your toilet?" I ask him, rocking back fourth on the spot. He reaches behind him, and for a moment my heart drops, thinking that he'll point to a sign that says that I'l have to buy something first, but instead he unhooks a key of a hook and throws to me across the counter.

"Knock yourself out kiddo," he says in a really strong Irish accent.

I give him a quick smile of gratitude before I run back out of the shop and go around to the back of the station. I find the door with a symbol of a woman on it (although some bright spark had graffitied male genitals on her) and shove the key into the lock. I give the key a twist the the door opens. Taking the key with me, I go inside and lock the door behind me. I switch on the light and screw up my nose at the state of the place, but before I can get too picky, I go into the nicer of the two cubicles.

I come out feeling much better and wash my hands in the basin. Before I go, I can't help but glance at myself in the murky mirror and I screw up my nose at the way I look in the yellow fluorescent light. I look sickly, like there's something wrong my liver.

I stare into my dark brown eyes, trying to find something lively in them, something unique. But no, they are just as angry and upset as Johanna's. I sigh, unhappy with myself for making such a connection. Although I tried my very best to be nothing like her, more often than not I find myself doing things, saying things and thinking things which must come from her.