This is a #TeenFictionAnotherYearShortStory entry.
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Believe me, when adulting takes place, you forget your naïve little side instantly and are ready to fit yourself in the big boots.
But let's say, it's too soon for Olivia Dee.
For her, graduati...
I knew I must be going crazy with these thoughts, when I eventually sat on my bed, ready for another one of those cold sensations. I was waiting to get entangled. This idea sounded sickly, but how do I stop everything that's going on then?
These dreams, or the sensation with flickering lights was like a hand outstretched, holding a morsel of food, but only letting you bite once at a time when you acted like a good doggy.
I never was curious, or serious, as a matter of fact. By this time, I had won over hatred and love alike from the headmistress and the football team. Gripping tightly the football in my hands, I swung it back over my head and threw it against the empty space.
To address that matter, there were a lot empty spaces adorning my magneta coloured walls. I even let out a frustrated yell. The meeting with my friends hadn't gone well enough. They were being all subtle-y and caring, suddenly.
Elijah even went out of his way to hug me, saying, "I hated that bitch, you know. But don't let it rule your head, death happens to those who can't deal with all the chaos they'd created." His philosophy made me feel unsettled.
They were making me feel like this was a very personal matter than I thought it to be. But I let it slide. At least they'd promised to accompany me to the funeral.
The house was deserted today, and I hoped mom could be here with her chocolate latte. But her work, the 'piece' or 'peace' (her handwriting didn't spare me)--she had found it and was going to be away for a while.
Talk about crazy deaths and missing ladies.
My twin being one of them.
Eight days of this crap, and I still wasn't getting near to any of this thing.
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There was a cemetery behind Harrington High's grounds. I always found it creepy, letting anguished soul relish young alive humans near them. But today, the cemetery was teeming--darkness had befallen all who took step in the cemetery.
I tried sifting the crowd of mourners, to look for the familiar bald and muscly Elijah with his favourite ginger Carolina on arm.
But the black blended in so well, that every head that turned or the body that shifted slightly, as I tried to look out for a corner to stand, and yet be away from the casket that would be gracing our presence.
There were all sorts of crying people--some did it, controlling their tears to not spill on the ground, some leaned on a stranger to find strength. For me, my cheeks remained dry but my eyes were tired, seeking comfort and relaxation.
I had done my own share of crying, and I couldn't do it again. Not if I wanted to drop down dead from exhaustion.
Soon the area was packed with sniffs and wails, everyone waited for that moment. I couldn't feel more guilty when the officer who'd investigated Della's dead body came over to me, asking, "Mrs. Rosé needs you to join her, I'm afraid. I wouldn't deny if I were you."
