PAROXYSMS (What is on my mind?)

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Chapter 12



“Don’t be embarrassed Paul is a brat!” It was the first thing Owen told me as we were on the streets walking. This was the first ever thing he said to me. Could you believe it? Could anyone ever believe it? We literally stayed under the same roof for years and that was the day he had spoken to me. I comprehended his concern came solely out of the pity he felt for me. I was such a shame and disgrace. Of course I said sorry the only reply I could blurt out. “Why are you sorry?” He muttered agitated. Words piled up in my throat but I could not even utter a letter. He called up the driver telling him our location and within ten minutes the car was there to pick us up. The next day Owen did not come to school. I went home contemplating the humiliation I had brought upon him. To my dismay I had written up a note apologizing telling him how sorry I was for the trouble I had caused. I went up to the elevator pressing on level five. My father was not home and he was escorted on his trip by Mr. Gray. That was the scene most of the times, lucky for Owen he constantly did not have to share his room. My father should have given them discrete rooms especially when Owen was now a teenager. I knock on the door and there was no response. I wait for a while before knocking up again and yet again there was no response. I roll over the door handle, it was unlocked. I gently pushed open the door, scanning across the room I limped in. The bathroom door was slightly open and I could hear water trickling inside. I walked straight to the table. Books and copies were sprawled over it. I take out the note from my pocket reaching out for the diary that laid on top of the scattered pile to place the paper inside. The first page I had opened had a sketch of a flower vase, as I turned the second page my mouth gaped in admiration it was Mr. Gray’s sketch. The third page I opened had the sketch of a cat, as I was turning through the pages my heart galloped, blood rose up from my feet, I could feel the hot flush in my cheeks, my face straightened as I stood rooted to the ground. There was a sketch of a girls back seated inside a car. I flipped through the pages, my eyes widened as I came across another sketch of a girl drawn again from the back, seated on a chair surrounded by book shelves and then a sketch of familiar eyes that stared back. I put the diary back without inserting in my note turning around ready to leave when my eyes met with his. I still remember he was wearing an olive green t-shirt with gray pajamas. He stood there quietly as I handed him the note. I ran out of the room, my heart in my throat and I could not breathe. That day I learnt two things; Owen could draw and he drew me!

What happened at Jonathan’s party had spread out like a wildfire. People were talking about me and Owen but for us we did not speak for the entire week. My mind bubbled with questions and I knew he was the only one with answers. I finally mustered up the courage and went to speak with him over lunch break. He was seated with his mates as I asked if I could speak with him in private. He rose up from his seat, his expressions unreadable as he nodded his head. We walked out of the cafeteria into the hallway as I spoke breaking the ice, apologizing. I continued, “I never wanted to create a scene Owen.” his lips pursed, he stood their listening “I know I make things difficult for you but I don’t mean to” I wait for his reply but he stood mute. My chest tightened his silence were like shards of glasses piercing through my heart. I apologize for the last time before walking away and I did not have the courage to look back anymore.


I could hear myself mumble my last words as I opened my eyes. It was 5 AM in the morning. I was still leaning against the dining wall. I got up heading to the bedroom. I sat down on the bed, my body felt cold. I drew in the blankets embedding in its warm embrace I fell asleep.

When I woke up it was 6 PM. I felt feeble. My stomach was growling. I managed to pull myself out from the bed. I stood watching my reflection in the mirror, sullen eyes, sore ankles, I notice I had not brushed my hair so I took the comb and swiped it through my hair. My hair was greasy and I did not feel like showering. I went up to kitchen and opened up the cookie jar. I ate two cookies before I sat down in front of Logan and gulped down the beers and vodka.

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