Under One Sky (HIATUS)

1 | capri suns and cancer sticks

It had been 3 months.

Three, agonizingly slow months, since the death of my beloved Nana. I didn't even come close to earning enough money from my job at the local café to pay for her funeral, so I wasn't able to provide her with a proper send off. I lost her to Cardiovascular disease. And I still hadn't gotten over the fact that I was never going to get her back. It seemed so unfair; one minute I had so much, and then the next: nothing.

Nana was my everything, literally. Kind of like an all-in-one package; she was my best friend, my parent, she listened to my problems, gave me advice, cooked my meals, told me off whenever I left the milk out after breakfast.

Over the course of my childhood/adulthood, Nana had taught me a lot of valuable lessons. One of which, being: 'the quietist people have the loudest of minds.'

Being a generally quiet person, you tend to observe a lot of things, and I'm a quiet person. Whenever I do observe something, I decide (if it is good enough) to write short poems about them and merge the poems into lyrics of a song.

I write everything down into a little diary Nana gave me for my 19th birthday, and I called the book; 'The tune of life'.

I had started to do it as soon as soon as I discovered that my poetic and musical ability wasn't that bad and decided to test out my skills on the grand piano at the community hall in town.

Usually, my observations are about others or even myself, but sometimes I make them about life. Life, as in things you don't usually notice about everyday situations, and deep emotions anyone can feel under a certain circumstance.

My most recent observation was a well-known one, but no one could really understand it, unless they had experienced it first-hand.

You don't appreciate what you have, until it's gone.

It isn't like I didn't love Nana the entire time I was with her, but I truly understood how lucky I was to have her, now that she wasn't by my side.

I was snatched away from my thoughts as I heard my name being called out, and I lifted my chin up of the palm of my hand.

"You there at the front! Is my lecture on 'Dissociative Personality Disorder' boring you? Or may I have your permission to continue?" Professor Kang snapped; her eyebrows drawn together in a frustrated expression. Usually professors wouldn't care if you were spaced out or not concentrating because they had too many students to focus on, but my university had very few psychology students, and I was one of them.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as everyone turned to look at me.

"Uh, you may continue, Sir." I muttered, looking down at my fumbling hands.

He nodded curtly before returning to the Smartboard in front of him.

University sucks.

******************

"And then I was all like: you literally just made out with my sister for a good ten minutes, and you're asking me out? I mean, how dumb can guys get these days? Right, Eliza?" The raven-haired girl, whose name I did not even know, asked me, waving her hands about animatedly, while trying to match my fast walking pace for me to not be late for lunch.

What? Food is life.

"Um, yeah. Right. And it's Elora." I corrected her.

"What?" She questioned, chewing on her bright, blue bubble gum obnoxiously.

I sighed in disappointment, silently falling. Not a single person knew who I was here. Although, there was no one to blame for that except me. I had always had trouble making friends, ever since I had been picked up from the foster home that I was staying in at the age of four.