The Broken & Curious Start [REWRITTEN]

3. No Questions

Chapter Three.

Anastasia's Point of View:

[PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT]

School was not much of a struggle for me to attend to as everyone seems to make it out to be. I was actually interested in the things that were taught to me to be able to comprehend it all more vastly than others. I also really loved observing all the different types of life that walked down the hallways with me, curious on how many hide behind a fake facade. I was obsessed to see how many people were just like me.

"Hello, Stasia," My best friend, Elle, smiles affably towards me as she skips her way down the aisle of desks.

"Hello," I nod towards her, giving her one of my best close mouth smiles.

"Guess what happened this weekend?" She sits down, combing her bangs out of her face as she looks at me with excitement.

"What happened?"

"James asked me to be his girlfriend." She almost squeals and my eyes widen.

"Wow," I give her a genuine smile this time to show her how I am truly happy for her.

"I know. I didn't expect for him to ask me but we were dancing and then he kissed me and just asked me right there with drunk teens surrounding us. It was like a dream Stasia." She gushes.

Elizabella, who goes by Elle, was the most vibrant and affable person I have ever came across. Her exhilaration and ambition towards life was so inspiring and instantly lifted up my dark gloomy spirts. We became friends two years ago and I expected a star like her to never want to come close to such a dark cloud like me but she doesn't mind it. She says she sees something in me, even though I think that it's just her wild imagination that creates those delusions.

"I'm happy for you," I tell her truthfully.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your party. I really wish I could have been there." She frowns and I wave my hand at her.

"Don't worry about it, you know there's going to be more in the future." I assure her.

"Did you talk to Archer?"

The dreadful question was bond to come.

"Yeah, he actually talked to me a lot." I respond and her green eyes brighten with curiosity.

"What did he want to talk to you about?"

"He asked if he could read more of my writings and chatted about how he wasn't the outgoing type like she was."

"What?" Her perfectly plucked eyebrows curve inwards to show the confusion that filled her delicate features.

"I know," I breathe.

"Are you going to show him? Those pieces are very personal and not to mention, about him." She gives me a look.

I shrug. "It's not like I put his name in them or even describe his appearance, he will never know. But I don't know if he even actually wants to read them or if he just said it to fill in the silence."

"He's interested in you, which is understandable since your sadness is captivating."

"I'm not interesting." I correct her.

"Whatever you say," She smiles before we both bring our attention to our teacher as she starts her lecture for the day.

I disliked the way Elle too, joined with the rest of my family, is so memorised by the sadness that consumes me so openly yet securely. I never could understand why that was so captivating, as Elle put it, because to me it was nowhere near interesting.