Senses-/-Sight

Big Fishes' Carnival at The Lake - Senses-/-Sight

"She, is there, right?"

It was just another afternoon in my busy high school life when I asked one of my friend such a ridiculous question. I was standing in front of a staircase leading to the staff room, not really alone but still; lonely. The friend that I just asked my question to, a friend that I could not remember the name, gave me a surprised look, but then regained composure and simply nod.

"Thank you," and he left.

It had been only three days; I wouldn't expect everyone to adapt to it that quickly, but a faster pace would be nice. I was no idiot, although I want to be, but to strangers I might seems a little out of my mind. That's why I mustn't lose sight of my friends, so that I could ask that stupid question again and again.

That, and I don't want to lose again.

Now that the question was answered, I thought that she wouldn't do stupid things for a while, and thus I decided to live the day as per normal. As how it should have been: without doubts, without fear. If there was a prayer that I want fulfilled, it was just that she wouldn't leave me alone. But in any case I attended class normally for that day.

It was stupid. The moment school was over, I would again face the fear I always had while taking the route home. Well, not exactly home: it was a boarding school for foreign students. Me and her were such students, living our lives out of studying. There were much more than only the two of us in that boarding school, but sadly I was walking alone. Alone, but with her.

The fear of turning back always crept through my spine. I needed to reassure my self that she was there, following me back, but I was unable to confirm that. I was afraid. Because when I turned and she was not there, I'll be broken again. I wanted people to say that she was there, but I couldn't see for myself. At least my friends were trustworthy.

Maybe she wanted to say something, but in the end only thick silence filled our bus trip back to boarding school. I really wanted to hear her voice again, and I could, but I wouldn't and she wouldn't. Nobody wanted silence, but again nobody wanted to be broken beyond mend. 

Let's face it; she wanted to live. To live means to spend time with her friends and possibly, a boyfriend. And I, I used to be included. Okay, maybe I'm an idiot, but not the idiot I wanted to be. As I lean on the bus window, staring at the red setting sun that I wasn't used to seeing, I pondered how I had been so crazy, so weak, so blatant.

Everything seemed like just ramblings and complains of an old man who used to had a harsh life, but that's how wrong my mind was. I wasn't used to these feelings, alright, and I had absolutely no idea when to do what. People makes mistake, and I'm aware of that, but I wasn't ready to face this heavy of a consequence.

"She, is there, right?"

Now there was a girl in this world who were not one of a kind, but was certainly a marvel to behold. And she nodded to the question. A simple nod, as if I was a teacher asking if she's okay, and although she's not, she's just to stubborn to answer honestly. Such ignorance had lasted for a long time I couldn't even remember when it all started. Oh how broken could life be.

Not even a word slipped away: I heard that she was actually an airhead who had a cute voice, but although her sweet appearance matched the description, she was more like a higher being, unable to see the importance of those below her. I could never listen to her scream.

And thus in the boarding school I sighed, and she walked past me. Relieved that she was somehow still close to me, only faraway at heart, I proceeded to the courtyard, where I usually simply sit on the wooden bench staring at the darkening sky.

Yeah, my life would be back to normal.

She wouldn't be around anymore, maybe forever. I was supposed to accept that. Nevertheless she existed, her presence could not be denied. I had avoided having our usual circle meeting for fear that I would hear laughter out of nowhere, and I'll start thinking that I'm crazy. Everything about it was clearly vague, not even her could understand. But she accepted it. I was mad.

Having a dinner alone under the stars still feels weird to me. I was used to be cramped so that eleven of us would fit into a single round table. That was the only quality time that I could have, for school life was then busier than ever. While I still believe in the saying 'Nothing last forever', it pained me that those warm, heartening section of my day was gone so fast, gone too far. Yes, I would hear their laughter. Yes, I would recognize their jokes. But I was no longer there; thus I couldn't laugh.

Then he came to me.

A being to be worshiped, down to earth to befriend the unworthy; that's how I would describe him. He was perfect, at least to me, and he was what I wanted to be. That goal was what keeps me motivated to excel in every little things I could handle. Now that I found myself on the corner of an empty street leading only to madness, he came and saved me. That's what I believe.

But the sky couldn't be clear forever. Just as the silence is about to torture me, drops of uncaring water gushed and rain poured upon us. Nobody moved, though; I was waiting for that hand to help me up, and so I waited for him. What's keeping him?

"This isn't the you I admired for so long."

I would like to lie to you and tell you that those were my words. I had expected him to save me and he already saved me countless times, but what's keeping him, now of all times, from giving a hand, I wondered. Those are his words, directed to no one else but me, and it pierced my belief I had hold on to for so long.

The belief that I'm the victim.