1st · Paper Planes Fly
Their voices were so loud. I didn't know whether I could go another day listening to them like that. Sometimes I just wished I could be like a birdㅡleave whenever I want to. But I can't. Because I'm the type who doesn't give up on people I love. At least, I think so.
I sat back and looked out of the rooftop, feeling the wind play with my hair. Once again, I folded the piece of paper into a paper plane and let it fly down gently, not caring about who would receive the paper plane. This was one of my strange habits, if you could call it one. For all I knew, they would probably toss it away in a dust bin because apparently, no one cared about a paper plane suddenly making an appearance on the floor from high up in the skies.
I sighed and leaned against the wall on the rooftop. It was just as tall as my waist and I was once mistaken of 'committing suicide' because one day, I decided to come up here and relax. Everyone misunderstood and pointed me out as a crazy girl. I almost got sent to a mental hospital by my parents because of it.
So I guess that was why people didn't pick up my paper planes. They either don't care about them that much or they knew I wrote them, so they don't want to bother with what goes on in a crazy girl's head. Either way, I was glad enough they didn't read them and question me about my life.
I'd been doing this since my sophomore year up until my senior year, which means now. So all those problems started around then and hasn't stopped. Sounds like a fun life to live in, huh?
At least, even with these problems I can't speak of or tell anyone to, I'm well aware of myself. That I shouldn't change myself just because my life isn't given in a pretty little package.
The bell rang and I instantly picked up my blue notebook and walked up to the big iron door. I think, at least, it was made of iron. I was never sure.
I could easily hear the loud chattering of students coming from downstairs. I ended up smiling a small smile. Ever since the incident of me supposedly committing suicide, people started to avoid me. I didn't mind that much but it somehow netted its way to one of my papers of problems. Thus, I let it fly away along with my care of it.
Maybe that's why I do this. While people write their feelings down on a piece of paper and crumpled it or threw it away, I wrote it down on a piece of paper to let it fly away as a paper plane. So that my care about itㅡthe paper and the problems, my feelingsㅡwould fly away like it's supposed to.
Not wanting to be late, I hurriedly opened the door and rushed downstairs, blending in with the crowd of people. I wasn't easily spotted, but those near me or actually look up to see would easily realize it was me. I knew what they did when I'm not listeningㅡthey talk. And it's not a pleasant talk, let me tell you that. Either that or they ignore me. It's always one of those two.
I heard murmuring behind me and tried my best to block them out of my ears. But sometimes, it wasn't as easy as you thought it'd be. Sometimes you have to fake a smile in order finally let yourself smile one day. A real smile, at that.
Once I was seated in class, I tried my best to hold everything in and act like I didn't care. At least I still had a few friends who wouldn't talk about ludicrous rumours that broke out two years ago. Some things just don't get old.
"Have you done your History homework?" Britney, a blonde girl who sat in front of me and was close enough for me to call my friend, asked, turning around. Then she asked in a lower voice, "Were you up there again?"
"Yes and yes," I answered, clutching onto my blue notebook tightly. "If they continue mistreating me and misunderstanding, I might actually commit suicide."
That was meant as a joke but why did it sounded differently from the way I said in my head?
Britney didn't say much but she frowned a little. "You wouldn't, Nat."
"You're right, I wouldn't," I answered in a timid voice. Or maybe I would, I thought in my head.
I really hated it when I turned depressed all of a sudden. Like, one moment I was happy and didn't care a bit about this school and its students but the next moment, all their little words, all the whispers they exchanged with their friends bothered me and I had felt like I was willing to do anything to stop them from doing that.
I guess it was like a different case of bipolar. I wouldn't say it was bipolar exactly because I wasn't really sure what it was in the first place so I just settled for a close comparison.
The teacher then entered the classroom. We greeted him and he told us to sit down. He rambled about a few things then finally began his lessons. It was really hard trying to concentrate on the lessons because History, in general, was boring. To me, at least.
In the middle of his long lesson, I sneaked my blue notebook out of my backpack and slapped it lightly onto my table, with the intention of writing (or rather, rambling) about how I was feeling. Another weird habit of mine. It helped me feel a little better I guess, to write down what I was thinking. It acted as sort of a stress reliever.
With wary eyes, I frequently checked if Mr. Boring History Teacher was looking my way. When it was clear he wasn't, I quickly scribbled a few words on how I was currently feeling.
Ignorance isn't as big of a problem as I thought it'd be but often, it's just something we don't want. When we get ignored, we don't care that much and try our best not to let it be a problem. But the moment we lower our guard, the thoughts start seeping in. The very same thoughts we try our best to push out. Why is that?
Thoughts must also feel the same way, that's why they don't't want to be ignored too. They try so hard to enter our minds because they feel the same way we do.
Every time we're ignored, we often wonder what we did wrong. That the action we weren't aware of had a big impact between you and that person that suddenly started ignoring you. Then you wished you didn't do it, even without knowing what you did. You blamed yourselfㅡonly yourselfㅡfor it and that's when your trust in yourself, your self-esteem, it starts breaking down and what are we left with? Nothing but a sense of self-hatred.
I get it. It's fine if you blame yourself on something. But that's only when you actually do it and there's proof. When someone says you're in the wrong without actually confronting you properly and confirming what happened, then it's their wrong, not yours.
I guess the reason why my mind keeps flying around from thought to thought is because I want to get everything out of my chestㅡmind, in this case. We battle with ourselves, thinking everything in our life is so wrong. That's not true. Not always. I just want to ask everyone: when will you start loving yourself? How do you love without loving yourself first? You should be able to love yourself, despite EVERYTHING. Yes, it's going to be hard, but that's one of the points of life.
And most importantly-
"Ms. Cosgrove, might I inquire, what are you doing over there?" Mr. Timbleton then called my name, which caused me to snap to attention and immediately slap my pen down onto the table, frozen in my seat.
"N-nothing, sir. Just copying notes. Please proceed with..." I glanced up at his face, wondering if he was annoyed or irked with me. Gladly, he wasn't. "...your lesson."
"Do you even know what we're talking about?" Mr. Timbleton asked, folding his arms over his chest, giving me a stare as cold as ice.
"Uhh..." I tried looking around, hoping an answer pops out of somewhere. "History?"
"Which president are we talking about?"
I hated it when teachers wanted me to be specific. It just made them prove a point in something. But then again, I couldn't really blame Mr. Timbleton for my not focusing in his class. I just stayed silent.
He continued, "While our little friend Mrs. Natalie Cosgrove was in a little daze, we were talking about Abraham Lincon. The president thatㅡ"
"Mr. Timbleton?" A student's head then peered into the classroom, knocking lightly on the door. "May I talk to you? It's about the History competition the school is holding. I need to ask you a few things."
Mr. Timbleton put his book down on the teacher's table and cleared his throat. "You should see me after my classes."
"But my classmates and I are currently working on our project and we need you to help us with a few little details or we'll never be able to finish it," the student begged. "Please, Mr. T?"
Mr. Timbleton adjusted his thick glasses and excused himself from the class to talk with that student in the hallways. This gave me more time to continue writing in my blue notebook.
-anyway, what I'm trying to say is that you're not always the problem.
As long as you're aware of things that are right or wrong, as long as you're aware of what you're doing and you know whether you're doing a wrong thing or right thing, you'll be fine.
You belong with some people. Not everyone may be friendly, but that doesn't mean you won't belong with anyone. They're just not ready to enter your life. To me, that's how it feels like. I'm just waiting until someone worth it comes into my life.
~~~
Once school ended, the normal thing to do was head back home. Or, if you weren't that obliged to, you'd go out and hang out with a friend.
I did neither.
See, I wasn't fond of going home, nor was I the type to hangout with my friends. Where do I go if not with my friends or home? I go to a place where I'm able to relax.
In this case, I'm talking about this unoccupied space under the big road bridge on the way home. It was usually deserted and I grasped the golden opportunity to mark this place as mine.
It felt as if it was just as wanted as me.
I'm not unwanted. It's just that sometimes I felt like it. And whenever I felt down and discouraged, there's this little voice at the back of my head telling me the opposite of what I feel. That I'm not a mistake born into the world. It's the things that happen around you that you read wrongly, creating negative thoughts you feed your mind.
So I'm torn between both the good and bad, but I'll always favour the good the most. I mean, who wants their depression to take over your mind?
Taking a seat on the sides, I let my feet touch the river water after removing my shoes. I let the silence take over me as I closed my eyes and winced as my mind crossed with the loud shouting from last night.
"If you hadn't said thoseㅡ"
"Shut up!"
"Listen!"
"I said, shut up! You don't know anything that has happened in my life!"
I blocked my ears with my hands even though those words were screamed last night. I hated it when my parents fought with each other. I didn't have anywhere else to vent it out, so I just wrote them down on a piece of paper.
Feeling the feelings erupt again, I quickly grabbed my backpack to write into my blue notebook. Immediately, I scribbled away the words.
I always thought love was a great thing. Like in movies, they showed you how wonderful it is to fall in love. To have someone who actually feels the butterflies and the extreme heart beating, too. And it's because of you.
But there's a big difference between movies and reality. A movie is well written; planned, exactly as the director wants it. Whereas for reality, it's an unexpected script that keeps changing over time and you can't even guess what would happen next. That's the good thing about reality, I guess. There's always a plot twist. Meanwhile, movies are perfectly cleaned and polished and only given plot twists when planned.
Not every reality is a fairytale, but it's still an interesting story to read and see how it'll progress.
I let out a long, exasperated sigh before I began folding the paper into a paper plane. I let it fly away but it flew into the river, causing it to absorb in the water before it floated on top of the water, moving along the flow.
I stayed there for another hour before I picked up my backpack and swung it over my shoulder, getting ready to head back to the warzoneㅡ I mean, home.
I know I should be acting like a mature teen in these sort of situations. Though, I don't. I try my best to act like nothing troubles me but that's the surface of who I am. Deep inside, I'm a complicated girl with things I continue to keep locked in, with that blue notebook as my only way to vent my frustration.
As complicated as us humans can be, only some of us realize that they love themselves and they love living, and other people should too. People should learn from them. They make the world a better place.
I pushed the key into the keyhole then pushed the door opened. It was peaceful as long as Mom and Dad were out at work. There are two modes my house was always on; the silent and the war. It was either of them.
As I settled on my comfy bed, I tried to relax my eyes from everything that had taken in everything from school today. I applaud my brain for it's amazing efforts. No matter how many things we cram into our minds, it's still able to work.
"Natalie?" a voice then called, catching me off guard.
I immediately sat up, surprised to hear Mom's voice ringing from downstairs. I didn't expect her to be home this early. She usually comes home a little after six, close to seven.
Despite Mom and Dad often arguing, I still loved them both dearly. I act like nothing's wrong because every time they apologize to me after arguing, it often breaks my heart.
They'd say things like, "We're sorry you had to see that, Natalie. It's just... I cannot handle it sometimes."
Getting off the bed, I immediately rushed downstairs to greet my mom with a hug. "Mom! What are you doing home so early?"
"I rushed home as soon as I heard there were new neighbors moving in to the house next door!" she squealed, trying to hide her excitement.
I paused. "What neighbors?"
~Author's Notes~
From @QueenMichelsa: hi, guys! So I call my readers Kimichies so... hi Kimichies! Here's a collaboration of a story between @leowlun33 and I! Hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a vote and comments, if you haven't already! :) don't be afraid to be a noisy reader because we won't bite! In fact, we'll greet you with open arms HEH ;3 share this story with your Wattpad friends and I hope you enjoy this story! :) thanks!
From leowlun33 (yep that's me~)
Welp, hi again after such a long hiatus. And yes, this is a collab between us, so please do enjoy!
it's only on my account because I'm the editor.
(and also bc I have a lot less followers and fans than QueenMichelsa and she's really nice.)
PS: We're sorry about the tenses in this chapter, we'll try to fix it up in the upcoming chapters.
Hope you loved this one! More chapters coming soon~ ♡♥
- ♉♐