There are times in a day when you feel nothing but lazy. And right now, I still feel the same.503Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA5RFUjpTxx
All day long I’ve been sitting in class doing doodle on my musical sheet. I was supposed to make a Beethoven out of my composition but then I have to apologize to my school’s administration for not being so cooperative lately. Maybe I should recommend August Rush to them instead. My heart seems not in place. So my mind has found a way of looking for it. And guess what, they both end up in Heaven.
“You’re one dumb, lazy A-hole.” Scott says on our free time.
“I’m not dumb and I’m not lazy.” I tell him. “Can’t you see? I’m in my energy saving mode.”
He snorts. “You have it bad, Dom.”
I flinch at him. “What can I do? I can’t get her off my mind.”
Scott narrows his eyes at me as if he’s a doctor checking me for signs of sickness. “Maybe she has bewitched your head.” He clicks his tongue. “Poor boy.”
I threw my pen at him but he’s so good at avoiding things.
“What?”
I gave him a pointed look. “That’s a warning.”
“And I gave you a warning. I’m being entirely a decent and good best friend who looks out for you. I can be a saint like you.”
“Scott, don’t be ridiculous. If you’ll be able to patch me up on a date with her then maybe I’ll get the pope for your canonization. You can be Mother Teresa. A living saint.”
“Ooooh.” He croons. “I like the sound of that. Thank you, Dom, but let me think of that arrangement first.”
I sighed in frustration as I collected my things. “Are you done?”
“No, I’m Scott Orson.” He smirks at me and I didn’t suppress the urge to roll my good eyes at him.
The thing about wanting someone is basically connected to the concept when you say you like someone. Wanting someone means two things. You want someone for his or her body or you want someone to be in your life. But when you say you like someone that means you want to know the person. But then liking someone comes with an oblique force and interest that would eventually lead into a deeper feeling that you cannot control.
But I think that’s an obscene thing to say from someone like me who doesn’t have enough experience to say those things. I know love of course. Yet genuinely speaking it seems that the word itself is imprinted on everyone since birth. I believe all living things are capable of loving someone.
Love is a bizarre feeling that you get when you level up the stage of over liking someone. That weird feeling mostly happens to people like me who are in the stage of puberty where testosterones are in raging battle.
It’s a mind game that keeps your head thinking, it’s the awareness that keeps your heart beating. And when it’s there you just break your own rules and the whole world shatters behind you.
Heaven walks alone on her way home.
She holds her books close to her heart and the other hand holds her leather sling bag.
I decided to give her some company. But of course, I kept my distance from her back just in case she hides a shotgun somewhere in her bag.
“I know you’re there.” She says without turning.
Wow. She has eyes behind her back like a tiger. I’m starting to think Scott was right about her sorcery. But I caught up with her.
“Hi,” I said as I held the straps of my backpack.
She glances my way for a moment then her eyes went back on road. Maybe the road has much interesting view than me.
“I’m starting to think that you really don’t know how to mind other people’s business.” She says.
“Well, I don’t mean any harm to you.” I said. “I just wanna walk you home.”
With that she stops walking and she gives me one of her icy stares.
“I can perfectly walk myself home. So if you mind, I’ll appreciate it very much if you leave me alone.”
She starts to walk away from me again but I followed her and I held back her bag. I gripped on the strap. Shock, she pulls it back but I didn’t let go.
“Release my bag.” She says, a death glare comes out of her pale face.
“I’ll carry it for you.” I prompted.
“It’s not heavy.” She said through gritted teeth and I smirked at her. Irritated, she lets go and she stomped off the road. I ran after her of course.
“Don’t you want your bag back?” I ask. She turns to grab her bag from me but I held it up my head just in time.
She narrows her eyes at me. “What do you want?”
This girl amuses me even though her fury is unfailing. It’s both shallow and burning hell. I held her bag behind me.
“I just want to make friends.”
She leans her hips on the side and she crosses her arms. “When a guy wants to make friends with a girl it usually means two things. It’s either he likes the girl or he wants the girl. So, which one are you?”
My eyebrows met. “Can I choose both?”
She huffs at me. “There is no both. You can’t choose both lives when you’re in a sinking ship. Besides, why would you like me? Why would you want me?”
I place my hands inside my pockets. “Isn’t there to like and to want? I think you’re both.”
She sneers at me. “You’re a nuisance. There’s nothing about me that is likable and want-able. I am all broken. So, if you aren’t giving my bag back—keep it! I am tired of bickering and wasting my time on worthless people.”
She makes her way pass me.
“Broken? I think that’s a stupid thing to say when you’re not.” I said behind her.
She turns back to me. “How would you know? You don’t even know anything about me.”
“I think I know enough what is to see and not. You’re not broken. You only think you are.” I said.
Her pale blue eyes focused on me and I saw the sadness hidden behind her lashes. “Please don’t act as if you know me.”
***
Broken. People use that word as if they were a fragile piece of glass. I think that’s absurd. A fragile word used by depress and broken hearted people.
But Anna…
She said she’s broken. Have I failed to see that? I’ve known her to be sad the first time I saw her but then I never thought she’d use broken to describe her own sadness.
If she would just open those doors and let me in. I’d like to know if I can open windows of happiness for her so that she could see the light in her tainted darkness. I don’t want her to push me away. I want her to see through me. I want her to know that I can be there for her.
But I’ve been locked out of Heaven.
I watch her walk away from me, still holding her bag. She didn’t care if I go into her stuffs at all. Besides, I don’t want to keep her bag. I want to keep her—away from the sadness that she feels inside.
And so, my feet learned to remember its purpose and they followed her trail. They led me to an old Victorian house, painted with faded colors of pink and white. Rose bushes line up the sideways of the front porch and daisies grow by the window.
Anna doesn’t slam the door when she got in, but she left her shoes outside. They sit comfortably with the other Dr. Martens and Loafers.
I suddenly feel a stranger to a house—obviously because it ain’t mine in the first place. It doesn’t seem to be a sad house. Not that I also think that it’s a happy house. I don’t know how houses feel but I do know how to knock on doors. I don’t want her to think that I’m prying on her things. But I sure know how to return things that aren’t mine.
So I came to a decision by knocking at her door.
I’ve waited at the front porch with my heart beating in my mouth. My feet shivered from the prickling autumn cold. I put my hands up to my mouth and I blew some comfort into them.
Anna opens the door. Upon seeing me, her eyes crinkled at the sides with what seem to be an act of irritation and amusement. But her expression remained stoic just as usual. After a few awkward moments of silence she raised her eyebrows in question at me.
“Oh. Um…” I raised her bag. “I think this belongs to you.”
She took it gently from my grip. “You seem to have a talent for stalking people too.”
“I’m not stalking you.” I retorted rather defensively and she raised an intrigue eyebrow at me.
“Really, then how did you know where I live? My bag told you?”
My shoulders sagged in surrender. “I’m sorry.”
She nods. “Thanks for making an effort to return my bag although,” she sighs tiredly. “I know you have no interest on it.”
I smile in relief. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in school then.”
She licks and bites her bottom lip. “Okay.”
I nodded awkwardly as I start to turn away.
“And,” she adds and I incline my head back to face her. “friends don’t stalk each other, Dominic Savio.”
You know that moment when someone you like says your name and then your heart goes “tigidig-tigidig-tigidig” and your head begins the “gimme gimme”. I think I’m gonna fail my music classes with the sounds my heart and my head make. But then I don’t really care. At least in a fraction of moment I get to see that smile on her face before she closes the door.503Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYwcr79Y5xX
