It will all make sense one day.
Those words linger and explore every nook and cranny of my thoughts. The dots aren't connecting and nothing really makes sense anymore. It's one of the very few times I made out time to burden myself with thoughts I consider highly insignificant.
Being an average being, I really don't have any rights to judge things based on significance. Not even a quarter of this world would care if a seventeen year old high school student died of an asthma attack. Compared to if that kid were some heir to Tesla. Big difference.
This year, I don't want to bother myself l, my feelings or emotions. It's the final year and somehow, I'm the least bothered about Prom or graduation or even getting into an Ivy League college. In my side of the world, surviving each day is counted as an achievement. Not mediocre. Top tier excellence.
"Why'd you invite us if all you were gonna do is write away in your little diary?"
I like Zayn hard in the rib and he fakes a faint cough. I sigh in disappointment.
"It's not a diary, you idiot. It's a journal," I educate with a proud smirk and he rolls his eyes, ignoring my remark.
"I'm pretty sure that is just our century's name for a diary. Next, it's probably gonna be called a note pad," Liam teases and I grit my teeth in frustration at their nonchalant ignorance. They burst out laughing and I exhale loudly, standing up and dusting the first from my shorts.
They get a notification for a baseball game and run off while Ihead upstairs, planning to dunk in mugs of coffee and trying to focus on previous exam worksheets and past questions.
Being overly familiar with that high pitched tone, soft with a tiny of sadness and uncertainty, I turn to see Scarl. Scarlett, actually. She lives in an apartment in my block, with her uncompromisingly busy lawyer of a mother. Being a woman with so much authority and knowledge about rights and whatnot, you'd expect Scarlett to be just as hard and thick skinned. But no, she's just Scarlett. Heavily beaten up by overly abusive boyfriend Scarlett. Sometimes I wonder if she forgets to conceal those bruises rightly. Those cuts are eye-achingly fresh with blood cluttered cuts.
"Going to school tomorrow?" she asks.
Not like she genuinely cared, or she was going to do something about it if I said no. It was just Scarlett language for please ignore the screams and yells you heard in my apartment yesterday. I don't blame her though. It's not that easy to live your life with two dominant overpossesive beings. Glad I can't relate.
"Yeah," comes my expected response. She gives that knowing smirk and walks into her house. The door slams after her and I shake my head, walking into mine. My life has never been a bed of roses but never will I, in my estimated fifty years of fruitful existence, allow another human bein, no better than me,to discomfort me in any way,for no just cause. You might feel bad for Scarl, but trust me, people got through a lot worse.
Me? I'mjust trying to be the best king of my miserly kingdom. Nothing bothers me, or stresses me out - at least I don't allow anything to. School has nothing on me because it's not an assurance of Bill Gates kind of wealth - and that's the only type of wealth I'm available for acceptance.
"Honey can you drive down to the airport and pickup Dave?" Mum says softly as she sticks her head into my room.
"Mum please don't bring your boyfriend's to the house," I plead in something I've known for twelve years, as vain. She chuckled lightly and I watch her beautiful brown hair fall to her face.
"Last time, Kai. I swear he's gonna be the last one," she says with a smile. A weirdly bewitching one. I've heard one too many 'last times' and trust me, this is not going to be the last 'last time'.