All That Glitters

The weekend was never exciting for me before, and for Hope here it was bound to be quiet. I don’t know much about her life with mother back in Georgia, for one I never cared too much about both of them after my parent’s separation and my mother fleeing off to Georgia with Hope.

But here, at nights, streets were almost always riddled with misery and pain of those who wanted to forget everything and get home but never reached there, and it was like watching through a kaleidoscope; the moon was high between fairy glitter and while you sunk under a bloody crimson burden of homework, your sister locked herself amidst icy blue walls and slept with nightmares resting on her eyelids.

Hope walked the hallways hesitatingly, avoiding the fences of happiness as if just a little contact would sear through her skin and burn her whole. The warm glow of a clear Monday morning seemed to be reflected in everyone’s face amidst laughter, tired sighs and displeased grunts. But Hope had brought this upon herself; the threatening clouds of desolation and gloom hanging over her like a deadly disease and I never understand why she wouldn’t want to be happy again. I want her to be happy again, to save her from the isolation she thinks she deserves but my hands are forever tied by abysmal helplessness.

“Do you think Mr. Andrews can tell that half of the class is asleep?”

In Chemistry I sat quietly by Sebastian Miller who had a penchant for making jokes at the most inappropriate of times. It took some time for me to talk to him, for he was the same person who set the ends of Maddison’s pigtails on fire in second grade.

“Looks like he can’t,” I murmured, subdued, but my mind was still on Hope as I thought about her skipping breakfast today and how her plate seemed to hold less and less food as the days progressed. But Sebastian was decent, he knew when to talk to someone and when to leave them alone, and so I watched with heavy guilt dawning upon me as the mischievous light slowly died in his eyes and he didn’t talk to me for the rest of the period.

“I wish they banned this kind of food,” Maddison sighed audibly while eyeing my tray. She never ate anything of the cafeteria, stressing that everything was too oily and that I ought to care more about my health. It was part reason why her skin was so clean, I guess, but even if I start bringing my own lunch I’d never have skin as perfect as hers.

“There wouldn’t be anything to eat if they did.”

Today her straightened hair fell to her shoulder like a silvery gold fountain, like sunshine just after it rains. Stuffing my mouth with last of the fries dejectedly I got up, dumped the trash and left without Maddison. She didn’t have the next class with me anyway, and I reckon she wouldn’t take well with being dragged to the library.

But I didn’t work too much on the history essay as I situated myself on a seat opposite a solitary figure, and the sight of Hope seated a few tables down munching on a sandwich that dad had most probably slipped in her lifted my heart a little. It made me wonder for the briefest of time whether she seemed relaxed because of the serenity of books, whether she could feel the soothing roughness of old pages underneath her fingertips and allow them to tend to her wounds of crystal loss.

Shoulders stooped, she seemed light and fragile as a gentle breeze.

“Time doesn’t return the joy lost, does it?” I let the words escape before I could breathe and they hung for a while in empty air. A head was raised in front of me and I found myself looking into a confused pair of eyes. I knew that face; he was one of the only two guys Sebastian often hung out with, although whether he knew me was debatable. I hadn’t meant for anyone to listen in my tirade but the damage was already done.

“Yes," he answered lightly. "But if the joy is lost due to the fear of never finding it again, then, unfortunately, I can’t help you."

His voice mingled with the bell. Getting up hastily he stuffed his book in his bag pack and made for the exist, leaving a sweet woodsy smell in his wake. There was a sound of clearing throat and I looked behind, slightly surprised to find Hope standing with her set lips in a thin line.

“Not stalking me, I suppose?” she asked so nonchalantly I was taken aback, as if she hadn’t spent the weekend avoiding me at any cost. The bags under her eyes were deep and dark, and I knew she hadn’t slept the night before, and the night before that. It was annoying really, how she appeared to be fighting so hard yet wouldn’t give up and ask for some help.

I could only manage a small shake of my head.

Her lower lip trembled a little and it looked as if she was trying to smile yet couldn’t, so a grimace painted itself over her tired face. ”Let’s go, then. Don’t wanna be late for class.”

Gripping my wrist tightly in one of her hands she pulled us toward the door as the second bell rang, and for a short while I was transported back to being six when she'd force me to go everywhere with her, when everything was small enough to fit in the palm of our hands. For a while she was just the Hope who would always be there, who wasn't taken away by our mother to a seemingly far away land.

For a while she was alright again.

Notes

All I've done for the past month is to catch up on my sleep. I want to work on this story but I can't bring myself to write more than a paragraph :/ somebody please help.