60. Chapter 12 Part 5
I managed to get to school on time, though I was only able to drop my flute in the practise room before I had to head to class. The morning passed by in a blur of mock concern and questioning glances, my face presumably showed quite clearly that I had been involved in a fight. At break I went to see for myself in the mirrors in the toilets.
I’m surprised by how little bruising there is; only a faint black eye and a slight swelling on my cheek can be seen. The bags under my eyes betray my fatigue, having stayed up too long the night before, but otherwise I’m just like normal. The same disordered hazel strands, the same pale skin, the same unfeeling grey eyes. I had hoped there would be something brighter behind them, some glint of hope, but that is reserved for those who can experience love without guilt. I am not one of them.
Perhaps today will pass like a normal day, maybe I won’t wake up in an unfamiliar place again. But that seems unlikely. Maybe my thin lips will smile again, properly, without the dread of the fall that so often follows content. Damn. It doesn’t work like that; it never has and never will. Love is nowhere near enough to do all that. There is something greater that keeps pulling me down, that keeps me from ever fitting in or feeling anything but anger, fear and hate.
Of course, I try not to let it take me, but hiding can only work for so long. Eventually, I have to let some emotion out, recently, far more often than I’d like. I know the school is trying to dig through my records to find some explanation for my outbursts, they won’t find anything. We were very careful to cover our tracks; we severed all ties to start a fresh life. Damn. Some life it turned out to be.
The bell rings, stirring me from my daydream. I splash water on my face before making my way to my next lesson. It turns out it’s Monday, so I must have been asleep longer than I thought, losing a day somehow. History is next; hopefully it will go by a little less eventfully than last lesson.