Walking Screens

Chapter 2; Gráinne

The second Monday at school that I experienced that year, was one for the books. How I wish to not remember each and every day of those first few weeks, but each is memorable for their own reasons. Monday the 29th of September was the day that I saw Gráinne. Before my 'dark period', Gráinne was my best friend of 6 years, we did everything together, and we told each other everything. However, I never told her about my anxiety. I knew she would worry, and she herself had similar pressures like me, it didn't matter how well she dealt with her issues, at the time, I didn't want to burden her with mine, I thought it was the best for her. To my later remorse, I did the exact same to her as I did to Sam.

I was sitting outside of my first class, my back against the dirty white wall, my feet outstretched on the green carpet, when a similar pair of shoes nearly tripped on my feet. I remembered her black leather moccasins clearly, I remembered her subtly diamond-patterned black socks, I knew exactly who she was, and the thought of looking up left me completely overflowing with fear. She hadn't seen who I was, she kept walking. Something in me couldn't let her walk away.

"Gráinne" I shouted. She turned towards me with shock, she knew by my voice who I was. She immediately ran towards me and knelt down by my side.

"Are you okay?" She said with tears in her eyes.

"I missed you so much, I was so worried about you, I'm so glad you're alive Robin." Her loyalty to me was like a lit match to my block-of-ice heart. I opened my mouth to speak but I was interrupted by the bell, and then interrupted by Gráinne.

"I better go, I have geography now" I nodded, she left, I stood up and began that oh so painful process of analysing the situation.

You'd think Gráinne's warmth would have made me feel better, but in actual fact, I felt 10 times worse, I had been the biggest bitch a best friend could have been. I completely abandoned her, and shut her out of my whole life, after I had been hiding half of it from her anyway, and yet the first thing she does when she sees me, is ask if I'm okay. How could I have done such a thing to such a lovely girl? I punched the wall in anger with myself, not too hard, but hard enough to remind me of the cuts and bruises that still sat on my knuckles, due to Ger's oh so chiselled jawline. I never thought I'd be hurt by such a beautiful thing.

I smiled. Sometimes I found myself surprisingly witty, it was only in those scarce moments that I admired my mind, and thought perhaps it could differ from others in a desirable way.

I exited my deep thoughts and raised my head to find a hand reaching down towards me. It was the hand of Mr. Kinnear, a lovely teacher mind you, but prior to my departure in the previous year, he already treated me as though I was ticking time bomb. I laughed at his effort to save me from the devastating burden that was the green carpet. He looked very concerned, which made me laugh again. I got up, without his help, and placed my hand on his shoulder

"I'm perfectly fine sir, and perfectly ecstatic for your delightful religion class later." I said, in a somewhat cheeky tone, but I knew he was too frightened of my "fragile" state to ever retaliate.

He still looked concerned, but I wasn't really focused on him. My eyes were drawn to the various giggles of my classmates. Perhaps they were laughing at me, but somewhere inside I had hope that maybe, just maybe, they were laughing with me.

Ms. White was out sick, and so Mr. Kinnear took our class. Monday morning free's were never riveting, especially at the beginning of the year. Not one person had a task to complete and so some people gossiped, several texted underneath their desks, and a few people read novels, and by a few I mean that one girl who reads novels, you know the one I'm talking about, new novel every day, you envy her ability to become engrossed in such an academic task and yet you pity her for not experiencing the same distractions that prevent you from reading novels, friends. Anyway, I sat staring blankly at the board, similar to the previous week; however the seat seemed a little more comfortable, everything was a little more okay. I was almost happy.