It's midsemester and the seat beside me is still as vacant as it was during the start of the year. Coincidentally, talk spread of a girl with the reddest hair- dead. Of course, it was just rumor. Teachers would've taken notice and set something up for it, like a ceremony or a dedication to contribute to the girl's family. Apparently, they didn't. Day and day passed, the speculation never died down like the past ones. I doubt it ever would until the end of this year.
I'll admit it, school is boring. I enjoy the studies and activities, but it seems as if every single day was the same. A deja vu. The hallways were always dim; students leaning onto lockers, others going in and out from rooms. I walked down the same path, nothing's changed. It never will.
"Keiran, wait!" Stopping dead in my tracks, I turned to face Jason. He was just another friend of mine.
"Wanna join us at Dairies? Heard they had the best ice-cream,"
"I gotta get home, maybe another time."
I could tell he was let down, as he gave me the simple nod and walked away. It was after I said my 'see yous,' to the passer bys before I was out of the school gates. It was going to happen, the same exact cycle for the next few years. But it wasn't like I could do anything much about it.
I was any regular person.
The sudden sound of impact against flesh startled me. As it was the alleyway to my right. Peeking down through the darkness, I could see the figures. Two boys with baseball bats hovered over a girl slumped on the concrete grounds.
"Killing me isn't going to benefit any of us," she spoke, daringly looking up to them.
"Shut up. Pay up what Logan owes,"
"I don't have the money,"
It wasn't my place, but I had to step in sooner or later.
She ignored his statement and carried on with her own synopsis. "If I die, I've got nothing to lose, and you've got nothing to gain but a lifetime in prison,"
"The girl's got a point, lads," I stated, turning the corner into the alleyway.
"And who might you be?"
"This is none of your business. C'mon Jay we're leaving. We'll finish this another time, and you better have what we asked for," the second boy spat at the girl and walked pass me, bumping his shoulders with mine.
I trudged up to the girl and held out a hand. Instead, she slapped it away and stood up herself. Shakily, she used the walls as guidance to heave herself up. Leaning her shoulder against it weakly.
"Are you alri-,"
With a hand, she smudged away the blood on her lips and when her eyes met mine, they glared a thousand daggers.
It was enough to silence my words.
"None of this concerns you. You're no one, I'm no one. We're merely strangers to each other. Forget this happened," and she was gone, limping and dragging her ripped soul to who knows where.
Her gone silhouette left me in my own shadow, wondering what had just happened. My heart had dropped, and my stomach churned- yet, somehow, I had finally felt something different. I'd encountered something weird in my life (aside for my own birth). But it wasn't enough, I wanted more of this kind of peculiar thing.
But it wasn't going to happen until I found her again.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Trusting CarlaGeneral Fiction
Carla Evans, a young girl of sixteen; mentally tortured with a heartbreaking diagnosis. Only attempting to live for the sake of her deceased brother, soon she crosses paths with Kieran Woodly. How much does it take to find the perfect stitches? How...