Split Anomaly

Prologue

There are a few anomalies in my simple life. One of them was my first love, if you could call it that. 

I first noticed her existence at the start of secondary school, on the very first day. Of course, back then we were both still innocent eleven and twelve-year-olds. I still had my black hair and she still had her bright blonde hair. I remember thinking how out of place she looked. Everyone was so loud, so outgoing, yet she was always away from the crowd, alone. 

There was one day when we both somehow found ourselves at the same family practice, waiting to be called to see our GP. The closer I looked at her stoic expression, the more pain I could see in it. She was there with a middle-aged man with whom she shared several features, not only in terms of her physical appearance but also her demeanour and temperament. They sat together until a male name flashed up on the screen at the front of the waiting room and the man one could assume was her father left, while she stayed seated in front of the fish tank below the screen. We were left alone; no one else was there but us. I observed her as her dark green eyes trailed the only black moor in the fish tank. She seemed to stay fixated on that one fish, though there were many other species of goldfish in the tank to accompany it. 

Without thinking much, I found myself getting up to occupy the chair next to her.

"Hey, I guess you have a particular interest in the black moor,"

She turned to face me, eyes startled but face blank.

"The what?" 

I blinked

"The fish. The black fish,"

"Oh," she turned back towards the tank, "Yeah, I guess. My dad always says he has to feed his fish every morning, but we don't have any fish. He says it's black and has weird eyes,"

Slightly puzzled, I tilted my head but didn't question it. Instead, I changed the subject.

"Wanna hang out afterwards? My nan is gonna be out soon and said she's gonna bake a Dutch apple cake for me,"

A slither of a smile crept onto her lips as she nodded, with a little more enthusiasm in her form.

So that was how our friendship started. 

By the start of our teenage years, I'd discovered aspects of her personality no one else knew about. I guess that's what made our friendship so special to me; she was only comfortable enough to share those personal parts of her mind with me, and me only. She shared her interest in languages and games with me, along with her hardships and coping mechanisms. She'd told me of her dad's struggle with his mental health, and the effect it's had on her family. Hearing about her story brought to light how shallow my deepest insecurities were; how I hated my flat, dark hair that drooped over my forehead and equally dull looking dark eyes, complete with a mono-lid to make them look even more dead. With her positive influence, I was able to begin to love both myself, and others more. She showed me that somehow, a person's mind can remain positive and healthy even when their entire world seems to be falling apart. How insignificant my insecurities appeared when at such a young age, she was suffering so much.

In our adolescence, I started to realise that I'd developed feelings for her. They were only small at first, but soon enough developed into near addiction to her. The way her eyes creased when she smiled, and the way she could create masterpieces on the crumbling garden wall with chunks of charcoal taken from the barbecue. How she'd wheeze while laughing at funny-looking paintings at art galleries, and the faint freckles that the sun sprinkles across her button nose every summer. 

On one of those days at the art gallery, fast forward 2 and a half years, she was in front of me keeling over with laughter in front of a painting she found particularly amusing. We were looking for an artist to study for our A-Level exams, but something else had my attention. Something had changed. She'd started to change; her bright hair was becoming darker and her freckles had faded completely. She was laughing but for a split second, I saw her smile falter and her eyes weaken. It may have just been a fraction of a second, but it was there. 

Over the next few months, she gradually had more of these slips. She came to see me less and less, using exams as an excuse for her withdrawal from social life. 

Her excuse became invalid as exams came and went and yet she was still isolating herself. I haven't seen her since the end of college. I guess that's it for my pathetic story of unrequited love. 

I still wonder why her hair changed colour.