in which, selena amorim has never had an easy life, yet when she finds herself crossing paths with an old acquaintance, the first glimpses of hope shine through. as the seasons change, their lives take tumultuous turns and their feelings burn. will...
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Half a month of solitude, barely any word from Selena. Her head would bow every time I walked into the room as if shamefully biting back words. It was obvious that behind those murky, brown eyes laid several secrets. Secrets I was terrified to venture into. She had become an unknown presence in my life, ever since that mysterious night, she had been forever changed.
I was left to deal with the aftermath of her internal civil war. No longer was there midnight calls or emotional refugees, the trail had gone cold and so had she. Her touch was no longer a burning, itching sensation I longed after. It had cooled off, turned right back into ice.
My friends dare speak a mutter of her name. They too noticed the change, they too noticed my change. In the windy October mornings, I'd warm myself up within protective layers of shame and worry. Anxiety filled my mind and I had begun smoking obsessively. Only Reds, always Marlboro Reds. My room was a mess of boyhood shedding away covered in smoke and drenched in an amber scent that was quickly fading.
Her skin was no longer golden, my under eyes were now heavy and my feet dragged with every solemn step I took. I had noticed the drastic changes in her appearance; the shorter, wispier hair and the cracked lips. Most importantly, she was no longer the outspoken, intriguing woman I knew. Now, there only existed a shadow of what once was.
It was a bittersweet September afternoon and Patricia, or simply Patty as I'd known her for most of my life, sat on the porch beside me as we wrapped ourselves up in blankets. She was no new entity in my life, I'd known her since the fifth grade but she was a rather estranged girl, she kept to herself and once you sat and spoke with her for a while she was extremely intelligent and organized. I liked being around her, she was fun in a way that felt close to home for me. Perhaps the comfort I needed after such a whirlwind trail.
"You brought the photographs, right?" her soft voice peeped from behind her honey-tinted hair. We had been working on a project for our science class and I'd been in charge of the photography section. "Shit," I rummaged through my bag making a mess in the process, "I must've forgotten them upstairs, god, I'm sorry I'll be back."
Looking through my drawers, I shunned myself for losing my part of the project. Had I not been so far gone in my sorrows, maybe I'd own up to my mistake as a true man would've. Shoving the glasses of water and boxes of Zoloft off my nightstand, I finally pulled open the smaller drawer. Sighing heavily, I attempted to mentally prepare myself for the sight of her trinkets.
First came her Bow Wow Wow tape, then a sample of her amber scent, almost entirely used up on my pillowcases to soothe me to sleep, finally was her mother's wedding ring. I looked at the gorgeous inscriptions on the golden circle and traced my finger over it as I bit back tears. Below all of this emotional memorabilia was my stack of photographs, I placed them in my coat pocket and shut the drawer, turning to face the mirror.
