Chapter Thirty Nine
-Cole Anderson-
"Thank you for the lovely poem, Ms. Maximus," Mr. Montejano complimented with no sincerity as the red head classmate of mine blushed and returned to her seat.
"Alright, let's see, who hasn't presented yet," Mr. Montejano clicked his tongue together as he clicked his own, skimming over his clipboard.
Today is Poetry-Presentation-Day in English class. Basically, a week ago, Mr. Montejano assigned us a theme along with the requirements for our poem. We must have 20 or more lines, when presenting, we had to express the theme of our individual written poetry.
Ah man, my poem was last minute, it sucks, to be honest.
Whatever. Literature isn't my favorite class anyways. I tried my best.
I stole a discreet glance at Kylie who has her head on her hand, spacing out, staring at the ceiling boredly.
Not realizing I've been staring at her for too long, my heart skipped a beat as her eyes met mine.
I broke off the eye contact first with a lump in my throat.
A few days ago, my English schedule changed due to change of electives. I used to have it forth period, now I have it first. I switched from IB Calculus to IB Math Studies because of its difficulty. Nevertheless, I didn't expect Kylie to be here in this class.
Fate really hates me.
After her outburst about the reason of her makeover, I really thought she'd go back to her old self, but I thought wrong. She only stopped flirting around with guys and I'm glad she left Erin alone too. I don't know, but she stopped hanging around Brooke and around Aaron more. An assumption sparked in me: What is Aaron up to with Kylie?
A deeper question is I thought Al and Kylie are dating? Last time I checked Aaron and Al are still friends even though Al and I weren't. I wonder what Al must be thinking when Aaron chose me over him.
"Ah, Ms. Smith," Mr. Montejano announced all of the sudden, making her jump in her seat with fear and diffidence in her eyes. A small amount of joy leaped out of me; that's the old Kylie, unconfident and hidden.
"Will you read your poem in front of the class?"
"Um, yeah...Why not," she murmured, getting up her seat with a typed white sheet of paper.
She stood in front of the class with a perfect posture, awkwardly.
As she read the poem, I straightened up my seat with interest and engrossment.
"And Kylie, before you begin to recite, will you tell us the theme of your poem?"
"Um, the theme of my poem is Heartbreak," she said the word as if she just ate a really bad food and now she's constipated.
"Oh, one of my favorites," Mr. Montejano's face tilted, indicating that he's intrigued. "You may begin."
"Alright," she sucked in her breath and looked around the class hesitantly. Our eyes, again, met for a short second , but this time, she was the one who looked away first.
Agh, it's like a battle of "who-looks-away" first.
"I hit the ground like an atomic bomb.
Nothing is destoyed when I opened my eyes.
Becauses everything has already been destroyed.
The darkness grows cold and lonesome as I walk around.
Fearing that any moment the demons will pop out.
As I shiver and walk with a broken heart in my hands.
It beats but the scars are there written in white.
I feel its pain, crying out, for her lost lover.
In the darkness, of this cold dead world I wander.
Where is the golden sunshine and the white moonlight?
Did that too lose its lights like the smsll twinkling stars?
Or did they escape but travel their own path in the galaxy?
I look up, then left, then right... same thing...
Utter darkness blinding my wary vision as I blink away.
The ocean that tries to come and wash away the pain.
Oh goddess... Oh god...
What have I done to this beautiful world?
All the love and life that has been created...
Destoryed by anger and confusion in all a cold dark night.
Yet this heart still beats and tries to illuminate this world.
Trying to bring the life back that has been destroyed.
Maybe this heart was still fighting but I gave up; because I had too.
When will you ever learn...?
Maybe it never will; maybe it will.
Maybe this world won't be so dark..."
YOU ARE READING
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