I Really Need A Hug

TRIGGER WARNING: Depictions of an attempt. Read at your own risk.

Vienna

Smoke wafted through the air as I burnt the last letter. I stood up, dusted my navy blue skirt, and headed towards the edge. “Today's the day,” I murmured to myself, closing my eyes to reminisce the times when I was fine—when we were fine.

“Vienna, did you steal my dress again?”

“I didn't steal it, I borrowed it. There's a clear difference!”

“Whatever! Give it back. I'm going to wear it to auditions.”

“Why do you feel the need to wear a cute dress on auditions? It's not like you're an actress.”

“You don't understand! Being a stage manager is tiring, so I wear a dress to cheer myself up.”

“It's black, Vivian. If you're looking for something that'll cheer you up, why not wear a pink dress?”

“Oh, for goodness's sake! Stop asking questions, and give it back.”

I miss our daily fights, where we would bicker like children, but still love each other at the end of the day.

“Hey, Viv, are you okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“Are you sure? You look stressed out.”

“I SAID I'M FINE.”

“Woah, chill. I was just asking.”

“I'm sorry, Vie, I'm just, ugh. Can you leave me alone, please?”

“Sure, if that's what you want.”

Why didn't you tell me then? We knew each other since we were in mother's womb. I was always willing to hear what you had to say.

“Get out! Now!”

“Mom? What's going on?”

“Well, your sister had the audacity to misbehave under my roof!”

You gave me a betrayed look, as if it was all my fault. Tell me, Viv, how was I supposed to know? You never told me.

You never trusted me.

“Hey!” A familiar male voice shouted. I turned my head to see him.

Light brown skin, brown eyes, and midnight black hair. I could recognize him from miles away. “Evan,” I muttered. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked. His fuzzy eyebrows reached out to each other, and his smile was upside down. “This is a restricted area for students.”

“Chill. Besides, you're a student too,” I pointed out, but his frown got worse. “Stop frowning. You'll get wrinkles.”

“This isn't the time to be joking around.” He crossed his arms. “Give me a reason.”

“What?” It was my turn to frown. What did he mean?

“Give me a reason as to why I shouldn't report you to a teacher.” He grumbled. His right foot was repeatedly tapping the ground, waiting for my response.

“Oh. To be honest, I don't have a special reason.” I told him. “I just...”

I looked up at the sky. “I just...” I fought the urge to cry, “I just wanted it all to end.”

He didn't say anything. Instead, he ran over to me, and I felt the warmth of his embrace. I don't know what came over me, but I hugged him back.

THE END.