❝ Prologue
ৎ୭
Her chest heaved in equal motions, up and down. In a way that sucked the air straight out of her lungs then refilled them, only to steal her breath again. These motions were not unfamiliar to the brunette, who, in this particular scene, was currently fleeing as fast as her six-inch heels could take her.
However, it was not her quick pace that made her breathe so deeply. Those chest movements were too familiar, too fluid to be a spur-of-the moment reaction. Instead, these movements were taught, from her to her, and promised to suppress her tears until she reached her nearing destination.
Keys already in hand, the familiar beep-beep of her shitbox of a car offered temporary shelter from nosy attendees wondering why the girl was so desperate to run from her own graduation ceremony.
Before starting the car, she ripped the wretched shoes off of her blistered feet. She was never making the mistake of wearing those again. She threw her purse into the passenger seat, buckled her seatbelt, turned the engine and was about to change gear when the trance of her muscle memory broke.
Where was she going?
Until now, she had always had a destination. But she had just graduated and already took the day off of work.
She threw herself onto her seat, defeated. She could go anywhere, but there was nowhere worth going. For once in her life, she had absolute freedom. And it felt awful.
Her eyes began to wander and caught the sight of parents fawning over their precious graduates. Had she been a bit closer, she might’ve recognized her peers, but in the darkness and the fact that they were all wearing the same blue gown, it could’ve been anyone.
Suddenly motivated by the prospect of leaving her high school life behind, and the fact that she didn’t want to waste any more gas, she set the car to drive and took the familiar route back home.
Seconds after she pulled out of her school’s parking lot, tears rapidly welled up in her eyes. Except, they were not to mourn the life she was leaving behind there. Those would provoke tears of joy rather than the sour ones than rolled down her cheeks.
These were caused by an oxymoron, of all things. On her most proudest day, one where she was celebrating a great achievement of her success, she could only think about what a failure she had become. Maybe not in an academic sense, but in all other aspects in life, she certainly felt below average.
It could’ve been the various memories pumping through her veins. Ones reminiscing the times when she felt left out of everything. Where she would watch as her classmates enjoyed and experienced life while she was left on the sidelines, not one even bothering to get to know her. And the ones that did, made sure she still felt underappreciated. Her heart still sinks as she remembers the tone of their voices as they made plans excluding her in front of her face. Then they would offer up excuses that, since she works and studies so hard, she wouldn’t be interested anyways. God forbid one of them forget their homework, or have no one to sit with at lunch, though. Suddenly, she was their number-one girl for that one little task.
Tears streamed as even more painful memories unlocked, bringing her back to times she thought she would never survive. The face of her ex-boyfriend blurred with every inch she sped away from her school. But his actions would always haunt her. Her chest began to squeeze painfully as his betrayal loomed over her like a flickering streetlight: painful to look at but impossible to ignore. She hoped this would be the last time she ever thought of him, but she didn’t count herself as a lucky person.
That last thought triggered the most painful memories of all: her parents. She wondered if other students made note of their absence during the ceremony, but then remembered her insignificant role in her school’s culture and how no one had even bothered to check up on her in the immediate aftermath.
Unfortunately, instead of recalling past suffering, she should’ve put more focus on the present.
Ironically, that pain hit her like a truck.
ৎ୭
