A Cold Wind

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
A ordinary girl exits in and extra ordinary way...
Please read and enjoy doing so :)
(It gets better as you go on) :L

Submitted: November 18, 2011

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Submitted: November 18, 2011

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A Cold Wind

 

A cold, brisk wind welcomed me when I stepped into the winter morning. The strong blast cut though my bare skin like I wasn’t there, but it made sure I knew it was. The weak glow of sun was dimmed further by the thickness of the even bloc white clouds. It made colours turn to grey shades and nature to shrivel and weaken.  All by the power of a shadow. Yet, the chill that travelled down my spine was not from its icy nature or challenge it set, it was from the adventure it constantly carried. Its power was never a threat, but an encouragement.

The car door slammed in the same monotone manner. My mum put a hand up as she drove past and I nodded back. I stood on the edge of the road looking for a chance to skitter across without bothering a properly already aggravated driver. With a flash of hope I dashed across the road trying not to look like I was running for my life, and continued to walk up the worn path. I yanked up my bag that was slopping slightly off shoulder. It was massive and awkward, and your hand seemed to have no place around it except the link between the bag and handle. But I fell in love when I first discovered that my awesome looking stereo bag actually played music. I smiled to myself, what a sucker.

My shoes touched the ground in an uneven rhythm and I look down to find the dirty and useless pair of brogues, untied. At that moment, for some reason, a list of incomplete things entered my head. Your nails are chipped, your tie isn’t even done up, you barley brushed your hair, your mascara is properly smudged from when you rubbed your eye before, your shirt is hanging out, you forgot to brush your teeth... I wanted to roll my eyes at the obsessive voices in my head, demanding attention for their shallow needs.

 But thankfully, they were silenced; by the slamming of a car door. I didn’t wonder why my ears instinctively pricked and my eyes enhanced on the figure behind the silver Lexus. The site of a head of hair as thick and deep as dark chocolate did more than a name could. I knew who it was. He wasn’t my ‘crush’, my ‘true love’ or even my ‘friend’. He was just a guy, he was just in my year, he was just another guy with notable looks. But he was different, to me. He is different in the way that I knew him like no creepy crush stalker could. But that’s another story...

He followed me up the worn path, with the wind in his face, like it was in mine. I listened to the ever changing beat of his quick steps that scuffled and hit the ground at moments, as a result of his lanky posture. I hurried along the path looking longingly at the school gates, and wondered what they held today. My head was completely focused on his every move, just because he was there, like he was a project of some sort. So, I rushed past the beautiful song of a robin perched on the fence and ignorantly brushed bush that possessed winter berries, redder than any superficial lipstick. I tense as I entered the school reception and took a left waiting for him to turn the other way. But my ears didn’t find the fading steps I’d predicted.

I eventually arrived at the finance desk and stood in line, and no longer chained to him. I wanted to feel the fresh welcome of my friends more than anything, but for now, I had to wait. Moments later, the strange presence of him strengthened suddenly as I waited and was almost scared to turn and find him behind me. But I didn’t have to humiliate myself; instead I heard a familiar twang of a voice that hit my stomach like a slush puppy.

‘Aw’right mate?’  He called across the narrow hall to some guy he high fived.

The long wait turned to agony. During the time he did several things; tapped on his phone; scuffed the floor with his shoe; cracked his fingers; sighed (trice); ‘accidently’ brushed his arm on my back. What I did; listened. He seems to be more productive, I suppose.

Finally,

‘Can I help you?’ perked the young blonde woman behind her desk. I was somehow amazed that I didn’t stutter like an idiot at this point, like they all do, like I do.

‘Yes, do you have any Cambridge letters left?’ I asked with a small smile.

‘We’ve had quite a few students ask about that, they’re just being printed off. I told them to come back a break but they should be ready now, so you can wait if you want.’ She replied with a smile that seemed faker now. Like she wants me to suffer a bit more...

‘Okay’ I said with a sickly smile.

I shuffled to the right slightly and leaned against the wall as casually as possible. And I listened again. But then, abruptly, without warning, to my horror, yet amazing predictably, his reply to the perky blonde was

‘It’s okay; I need a letter so I’ll just wait too’.

My poker face couldn’t mask the redness invading my cheeks, as unstoppable as a bush fire. He walked around me to lean on my left and I almost laughed at the stupidity of the situation. What the hell is wrong with you! If you really want embarrassment, think about what he would say if he knew that you were noting his every move!

Then I got angry with myself; the burning of my cheeks didn’t cool after minutes of waiting calmly, or when the wind crept through the gap in the closing door, or even when my glaciated hands filled with bloody ice touched them. I exhaled slowly feeling the peculiarly hot breath escape my lungs. I started to feel my heart beat conquer every artery, every vain until my whole body pulsed to a poetic beat.

But now the wall was no longer my comfort, it was my essential. Now my head was dizzy and light, but drooping down with the weight of though. Now my breath was hot and stuffy from being chained to my lungs for merger seconds. Now my priorities were focusing on a single object with my eyes instead of on what an idiot I looked like. You’re over reacting! I complained to myself. I barely got headaches or anything of a sort. I knew it had to be psychological, it happened so fast.

 A loud noise echoed through my head and screamed to be silenced. Confusion emerged into my head and would not leave. My brain could match up the sound and the steps I watched him take. I told myself if it was a dream, over and over, as frequently as the blowing of the wind.

More muffled sounds drunkenly stumbled through my ear. Nothing made sense until he spoke for what felt like the first words I’ve ever heard.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, standing directly in front of me. His voice was silkier than normal; concern coated each word like honey. Whatever it was, it was the clearest thing I’ve heard all day and his worry lingered in the air to prove it was reality. I tried to see his face. And find clarity and sanity in the deep forest of green in his eyes. But I fell before I reached them.

I fell into a bed of darkness and the impact was so soft that everything turned to nothing. There was no colour, no sound, no texture, and no voice. No existence. So that’s why I didn’t know how long it was until I woke up. No existence; no time.

My senses started to return with restriction bound to them like a prisoners cuffs. I listened to the whispers of frittered cluelessness that were properly shouts, but they felt like whispers. I couldn’t feel a hard ground or the softness of a bed, I couldn’t see anything but blackened shapes, I couldn’t taste the fresh air on my tongue anymore, it was replaced with bitter metal and sickened saliva. My nose couldn’t pick a single sent, but rather wafts of mixed deodorants and sprays to create a nasty potion.

I felt like I was going in and out of consciousness, stuck between nothing and everything. I caught parts of conversations that all seemed to revolve around ‘her’ and ‘she’, but never me.

‘Is she breathing?’ She’s gone so red!’ ‘Are her eyes opening?’

It made me want to stay in my world of nothingness; in a way I sometimes want to curl into my bed and never see natural light again. Time passed like it never did. It felt shattered and broken into chards of reality and gaps of dreams. I wasn’t waiting anymore, I was forever trapped.

‘Rósín!’ A desperate cry erupted into my ears. It was so final it almost faded into whisper and left the speaker’s lips like the last ray of hope. Everything ignited to life and I knew what was happening. Brayen. The feeling of his arms warmed by body to my core, the chattering spectator refusing to move, his smell drifted around him like a friendly welcome. But I was still numb in the way that I couldn’t move, I couldn’t affect anything that was happening to me. And that’s what finally took my away to my world of nothing. But not before I felt a soft spark on my lips, on my life. It almost made me want to stay. Almost. 


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