Disclaimer: This book contains some strong language and references to suicide. This is a work of fiction. Thoughts and feelings expressed by the character(s) are not the author's own. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, and actual events is purely coincidental. Please do not cite or replicate the written material without permission. Light. Copyright 2017 Olleyana Rozana. All rights reserved.
Reading books didn't bring me peace like it once did. I remember forgoing sleep until I finished a whole book, but now I only looked forward to when I'd put in earphones and dance. I wasn't a great dancer, but it made me feel free.
I brought my attention back to the book and re-read the line. There were the calls of hunger; and Silas, in his solitude, had to provide his own breakfast, dinner, and supper, to fetch his own water from the well, and put his own kettle on the fire; and all these immediate promptings helped, along with the weaving, to reduce his life to the unquestioning activity of a spinning insect. Mum dropped a plate in the sink, and I jumped at the sound. This was why I didn't read in the kitchen. I sighed and closed the book, leaving Silas to his fate. I didn't bother marking the page I was on.
Recalling the melody of an instrumental song I heard yesterday, I closed my eyes and imagined myself pirouetting with perfect form, then rolling into a somersault. Ballet and dance had always intrigued me, but classes were too expensive, so I never joined one. Mum did say she'd been saving recently though, so could there be a chance for me to join now? I took a deep breath and found some courage.
"Mum, do you think I could maybe join a dance class?"
"Dance? Why'd you want to do that? You won't get anywhere with it," Mum said as she diced peppers. I looked down at the scuffed ends of my boots. She was right, there weren't many career paths for a dancer. I hesitated a moment before answering her.
"I don't know. I like dancing, so I was just thinking about it," I replied quietly. What more could I say? University was the stable option, but I didn't want to study anymore. A Levels were mentally killing me already and a degree would probably finish the job. Mum shook her head and briskly walked past, dropping some peppers on the dining table in front of me. I picked up a piece and squeezed it until juice trickled down my fingers.
"Focus on school, Holly, not these pointless things. It's bad enough that you're always reading books that have nothing to do with your exams."
I rolled my eyes in answer and unconsciously stroked the hardback cover of Silas Marner. No Nineteen-year old read George Eliot's books for fun, apart from me, Mum. I actually liked reading classics, another reason why I was isolated at school. I'd rather stay in the library reading. For some reason, I always understood what the writer was trying to say. Like how Eliot showed through Silas, that being alone too much could turn you into a machine.
My lips twisted into a half-smile as I thought about the low marks I got for the last English essay I handed in. Somehow, I could never write down what I thought about an extract or theme properly, even if I understood it well. That's why I hadn't even started on the follow up essay, which was due in two days. I ran a hand through the brown mop of hair on my head. A haircut was long overdue. The sizzle of the onions hitting the pan was loud and Mum yelped. I looked over in alarm as she rubbed her forearm.
"Be careful Mum! Are you okay?" I asked worriedly. She nodded and went back to stirring. The overpowering smell of onion stung my eyes and I blinked away tears.
I stood up being careful not to lean too far forward, as the chair was on its last leg. Literally. It had broken three times already.
The first time was because Mum threw it against the kitchen wall, after a phone call to Dad. I'd been too scared to ask her what happened. I was still scared to ask her. My brother Joshua had fixed it whilst I cried. The second time, I had broken the chair accidentally by standing on it. Mum shouted at me for forgetting that it was fragile. "I can't afford to get a new one Holly! Can't you do anything right?"
Joshua had stuck his tongue out at Mum when her back was turned. He winked at me and fixed the chair, all the while humming Mission Impossible's soundtrack.
Joshua was different then, we'd actually been sort of a family. Now he was just my older brother who hated Mum, and didn't talk to me. It was him, who broke the chair the third time. He'd kicked it after arguing with Mum about seeing his friends. That's when things changed drastically. Joshua had been out of the house a lot, and started coming home late. He wouldn't explain himself, so we stopped trying to ask him. Mum and I ended up fixing the chair that day.
"Tell Joshua dinner's ready so he comes down in time. He didn't eat yesterday," said Mum, wiping her brow.
I frowned and left the kitchen without replying. I couldn't bring myself to care whether Joshua had eaten or not. I stood in the doorway with my back to Mum, and thought of all the reasons why I was too busy to tell Joshua about dinner.
Coursework! There were piles of essays I needed to finish for school tomorrow. Just the thought of school made me groan. It wasn't easy for me, or for Joshua, because we had a poor background and Elmer's Academy was on the higher end of public schools. The natural segregation of poor and rich kids happened instantly, so we tried to look out for each other. Well, we used to anyway.
Joshua was retaking his exams so we were both in Year 13, but that didn't mean anything because I hardly ever saw him.
Last Thursday however, I saw Joshua talking to Tom, the most popular guy of the rich kids in Sixth Form. It looked like they were arranging something, but Tom's smile had looked threatening, and Joshua had walked away worriedly. I was filled with curiosity and protectiveness, so I'd marched up directly behind Tom to confront him. He bumped into me while turning around, and I instinctively held onto his arms to avoid falling.
"What do you want?" Tom's surprised tone had bordered on hostility.
I still remember the way his thick muscles rippled under my hands as he shrugged me off. I'd never found his 'golden locks' or sea-blue eyes appealing, but being that close to him, I understood why others did.
"Uh, hello?! What's your problem, Dalvin?" his narrowed eyes shook my courage.
But I was spared the open-mouthed goldfish routine by Clara and Larissa, the two girls in my class who loved makeup, and making fun of me.
"Oooh, look Holly's trying to flirt with Tom!" Clara had exclaimed in a truly amused voice. I remember feeling like ants were crawling all over my skin, as others walking past giggled at Clara's declaration. Some even stopped to watch the show. I remember facing the two laughing girls, and wished I'd never come to school. And that I'd never been born.
"Aww, look she's blushing! Hey, Tom? Are you gonna give this charity case a date?" Larissa had asked loudly with a desperately large smile on her pink, glossy lips.
She hadn't just been mocking me, I felt the depth of her question. She actually wanted to know. Larissa had drawn an invisible line around Tom, even though he wasn't her boyfriend. She acted like he was, and that was enough to repel the competition. Tom had rolled his eyes as if Larissa had asked what colour the sky was, and raised an eyebrow in answer before he left.
As soon as he'd turned the corner Larissa's smile vanished, and she had thrust her face towards me menacingly. Everyone held their breath to hear what she would say to the weirdo.
"You'll never get anyone, let alone someone like Tom! Stick to your books. If you're that desperate for a boyfriend, find one from the gutter you live in. Forget Tom, 'cause if you don't, I'll make sure you do." With her threat delivered successfully, she'd taken Clara's arm and barged past me, effectively pushing me to the ground. I hadn't tried to stop myself from losing my balance though, because I was too focused on trying to stop my tears from falling.
Since then, I hid in the girls toilets at lunch, and ran home when school ended. Everyone stared at me, Tom gave me disgusted looks and Joshua was never around. I was usually safe in the library, but now when I was there, I'd hear whispered insults. Golddigger was the frequent one. I learned to ignore it, like I did when Mum would say something about my 'unkempt hair.'
"Go and tell him Holly, the stir-fry's nearly done." Mum's voice brought me back to the present and I sighed.
Not wanting to upset her, I stomped up the creaking stairs to Joshua's room. The steps suddenly started vibrating, and the handrail shuddered as a train thundered past the flats. I waited for it to pass before climbing up the remaining steps.
When we first moved here eight years ago, I used to think we were living inside the belly of a monster. But now the rumble from the trains felt more like an earthquake.
I wished it really was one.
Hi there, thank you for reading Light! Please leave a comment with your thoughts, suggestions and improvements, I really appreciate it. Don't forget to vote for this chapter if you enjoyed it :)
If you are feeling suicidal, please call the Samaritans UK free on 116 123 or email jo@samaritans.org In the USA, please call National Suicide Prevention Lifeline free on 1-800-273-8255 <3
If your heart is broken, make art with the pieces~ Shane L. Koyczan