Obsession

The Possessiveness.

At 6:23 A.M Morning greeted me blindly, the light seeping through the open curtains. All of last nights events came rushing back to me. My cheeks reddened. I couldn't believe I still did that.

He doesn't know, he's not aware. It's fine. I'm fine. Massaging my temples with one hand I let out a halfhearted moan. I shouldn't have ate all of those sweets, chocolates and popcorn.

I felt ill. Fresh air sounds good. I think I might go outside, just for a little while. And I already am in clothes so I don't need to change.

Flattening my jeans and top I shouted, "Mother? Mother! I'm going outside for a little while. I'll come back by eleven and I've got my phone with me. So you needn't worry 'bout little ol' me."

"Yes. OK. Bye love."
The reply was clear but albeit hesitant. I couldn't blame her; we were best friends after all. We looked out for each other and did things together.

I walked out of the front door and strolled outside for a bit before coming to a halt. There was this secluded place in this humongous park which no one knew but me. Only me.

It was covered by branches and bushes, blackberry bushes to be exact.

Once you divide the parting that keeps them together they separate, creating a parting just big enough for you to crawl through. On the other side there were no benches, just grass. There were oak trees surrounding the area and bushes littered everywhere around the side. There was a waterfall, a petite one. And butterflies and other insects were there.

I thought this place to be in a fairytale.
Parting the blackberry bushes I crawled through, trying to be inconspicuous.
When I was on the other side I sat down and took out a small black notebook.

This notebook kept all my entries, all my dates, in it. This helped me spew my feelings out.

Dear diary,
Today's okay. It was yesterday that was tumultuous. You know the boy I've been talking about? Jamie, yeah. I had, sort of, accidentally kissed him. It was an accident. I'm trying to stop being too obsessed with him, it doesn't work. He's like my drug. Metaphorically. No ones suspected me of having this obsession. But I'm pretty sure they will, sometime soon. I'm not looking forward to it.

Mother and Mrs. Santon (Jamie's mum), are friends. Well, I think, on my own level of intellect, that Mrs. Santon wants to be more than friends with my Mother. I'm a bit miffed. It's not that I, naturally, hate homosexuals. I'm not a homophobe. Love is love, in any gender. It's just the whole fact of her liking my Mother.

That's how I see Mrs. Santon; evil, lesbian, not derogatory, and a shrieking, malicious, and uncouth imbecile. My Mother used to tell me that I was too stubborn to see past my own preconceptions. I admit that I am stubborn to not see past my preconceptions, but then that's just me.

I can't be of another visage, another persona. I'm my own visage, my own persona. I have my own façade. Not another persons façade.

Well, I think I've inflicted more boredom on you than I thought.
See you tomorrow.
Goodbye, diary.

I shut my notebook and leaned against an oak tree. Closing my eyes I daydreamed for a little while. The breeze was calming and elegant, sliding over me gently, soothing my nerves.

I jerked out of my daydream involving Jamie when my phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID and saw my Mother calling. I pressed Accept and held it up to my ear.

"Love, hi." I heard.

"Hey. What're you up to?"

"Oh, I'm at the Santons house."