Cuts on Paper Hearts, They Can be Awful Deep

My Angel Lie to Me, And Tell Me I'm Dreaming

Chapter 3; “My Angel Lie to Me, and Tell Me I’m Dreaming”

"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."

-Kahlil Gibran

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               I cleared my throat awkwardly and grimaced at him with an eyebrow cocked sky-high. “Name,” I inquired, annoyed. I watched as his porcelain hand reached for his notebook, noting the way that the cool blue veins contrasted with his milky white hand. He held his notebook up to my face. I stared at the smooth, blood red surface facing me, perplexed, until I noted the scribbling in the top right hand corner. “Kaydence Withel,” I mumbled, savoring the feel of it on my tongue, it didn’t matter if I couldn’t hear the soft chime of his harmonic name.

                Kaydence pointed at me, his dazzling green eyes and slim, arched eyebrows, giving me a questioning glance. I took that as a gesture to state my name, “Rittee, Isabella Rittee. Also known as Izzy” I scowled at the standard, thickskulled, jock ritual I had used to introduce myself. He just rolled his eyes and turned in his seat, facing the board. I noticed the way that he stretched his legs out all the way, his Vans clad feet neatly slid under the book rack of the desk in front of him. He was resting so low in his pasty yellow seat that his head rested on the top of his chair. My eyes lingered and made their way over to his well sculpted arms that were hugged by a black hoodie and crossed over his chest.

                Suddenly I felt his emerald orbs burning their way through my skull, I lifted my eyes up to meet his, with a cocky smirk splattered onto his face, he just shook his head in mock disapproval. I huffed and turned around, looking up to the board, to see today’s lesson inscribed in immaculate cursive along the board, along with the name, “Mrs. Ruthia”. For the rest of class I kept my eyes up, watching Mrs. Ruthia’s pink painted lips move frantically, forming words that were no longer coherent to me. Soon my buzzer began vibrating violently on my desk. With one swift move, I snatched my books off of the cool maple desktop and made my way to my next class.

                I waltzed to a desk and flopped down onto the pasty yellow seat, then let my head drop. I was exasperated and exhausted. I just wanted for everything to disappear, like smoke, dispersing with each gust of wind escaping from my freezing heart. I felt someone’s presence and goose bumps raised on my arms. I unwillingly raised my head and my eyes fluttered open as the now ominous buzzing spread through the air, signaling that class had started; to meet Kaydence’s eyes. I wasn’t taken aback or shocked to see him in yet another class of mine, after all, this school loved to isolate “whack-jobs” I just shoved him out of my way so I could settle my unbreakable gaze onto the chalkboard.

                A thin layer of white dust was spread across the chalkboard, insinuating that it hadn’t been washed in a long time. I turned my head to see an eclectic and eccentric looking man with a balding head and huge horn rimmed glasses. I watched as he shook like a frightened dog and wrung his gnarled and wrinkled hands. My eyes followed him as his shaking hand came up to run through his thin comb-over and he began to flap around his hands frantically. I scowled as I tried to make sense of the mayhem taking place before me. His face instantly fell and he strut over to Kaydence, mumbling something into his ear.

                Kaydence just nodded and his lips tilted downward. Something wasn’t right. I gently cleared my throat, attempting to relieve the awkward situation, and Kaydence turned to me with a sneer on his face. My head snapped around, as I gave him a pointed glare, my eyes seethed venom at his bitterness. I watched as his resolve slowly faded and he turned to face the board again, a scowl etched deeply into his face. A wicked grin spread across my face, “Sweetheart, scowling gives you wrinkles.” I declared with triumph evident in my voice. He just scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Attractive,” I muttered, my lip curling in anger. How long had I known him for? 2 hours? And already, he was tying me in knots.