Night and Day

Chapter 4: Delilah

"Whatever happens, it's not your fault, Kate." The words felt fake, somehow. What could they do?

Kate shrugged. "Maybe not. But perhaps I could have prevented it all the same. I didn't even see it coming. I was too caught up in my own stupid life to be bothered." She threw her phone, a small white device, which was scarred already from use. "Too busy wasting my time looking up memes."

"I waste my time...all the time."

"So do I," Nat said. "You're beating yourself up. Stop it."

I shook my head, slowly. "Do you want to be alone?"

Kaitlyn did not speak.

"Do you?" Nat pressed.

Kate shrugged. "I don't care. If you guys want to go to class, that's fine by me."

"That's not what I meant." I blushed. "It's up to you."

"Well, I don't care."

"Just go to class," Nat muttered, turning away from me. "I can see that you're anxious about being late."

She did not intend it as a snub, and it was true that I fretted over the time, but I had only asked my question for Kaitlyn's sake. As usual, I was useless at the best of times; I was powerless to cheer her. I was unable to remain. All I could do was stand there, a gaping statue.

When I came to the realization that I could do nothing, I left, reluctant. I pictured Kaitlyn's empty blue eyes as I walked toward my English class, and saw her parents fighting, in detail, as if from a dream. I could see her mother in my mind's eye, screaming; I could see her father slumped against the wall, begging her to return. I could see Kaitlyn alone, with no one. I shuddered. It all seemed to make sense somehow. It gave me a chill when I thought of it-of Kaitlyn, and how her life had ran parallel to a dream. Tucked away in my school bag was my tablet, where the dream was made real

"What a coincidence," I muttered, frowning. I somehow felt responsible, as though I had caused the Donnelly's to split, their relationship to melt away like ice on hot pavement.

I struggled to focus in English class. Kaitlyn's eyes were like the snow-pale, desolate and empty. I wanted to help her, and I wanted to be a comfort. I wanted to find her mother and persuade her to return. I wanted to reassure Kaitlyn that it would all be over soon; her mother could never leave her, if she only saw the look in those strange and haunted eyes.

Mr. Croft's voice droned on like the soft hum of my fan; I found my gaze travelling to the window, where the trees whistled in the wind. A spring storm was coming. The sky was a melancholy mass and there was a kind coolness to the air that trickled in through the partially open window. I found it refreshing. I found myself relaxing and within the hour I wanted to close my eyes. From that open window there came the soft scents of spring.

When the class finally ended, it was all I could do to stay awake. I barely paid attention in Mr. Lee's class, either; fractions could not hold my attention. Each integer became a story; each line was a part of Kaitlyn; each number was her eyes, which could do naught but weep.

It was with relief that I took my place beside my friends at lunch. Kaitlyn said very little as we ate. She was flicking through her phone, ignorant as Natalie tried to cheer our tiny table with a few clever puns. I was hardly attentive myself; I was doodling along the edges of a piece of lined paper, trying to decide what I might write about.

Those eyes were so cold, and so full of ice-how frigid they were, reflecting the chill within. The heart was glazed over with frost and from the eyes of blue I could see it, glittering.