Polar Opposites

Chapter one: School Ghost

Blood...

Rain.

The sounds of sirens. Indistinct chatters and  rumbling sound of thunder.

A lifeless body sprawled on the floor, and my hands covered in blood.

I jolt up from sleep. It's the same every morning, I have that dream again. The same one I have been having straight for three years now. My face covered in sweat and a dull pain in my chest. With shaky hands I pick up the cup left on my bedside table. It's become a habit to leave one there's each night cause I know I always need one every morning to quench my burning throat.

A quick gulp and then I brush back the strand of hair that threatens to fall to my face. The dull pain disappears but a feeling of emptiness is left behind. Once again.

It's a new morning, but nothing feels new. 

I stand then make my way to the mirror covered with a black cloth. I stretch my hands to open it but hesitate for a second, still I end up pulling the black cloth away. I glance at the mirror but only for a few short minutes, still that was probably the longest time I had ever had to see what I look like since the past three years.

Pale Auburn hair, heart shaped pink lips, light Caramel skin and a rare Ocean blueish green eyes.

This should be beautiful. No, it was beautiful, people said it was but i stopped looking when I killed the one who I inherited this good looks from...

My father.

It was during the summer after middle school. Probably the first summer I got to spend as a full fledged teen. It was supposed to be one in town, it was actually before it even began. Parties here and there_ the senior made sure of it, getting an invitation was a thing to brag about. Definitely something to update your Insta status with.

Before then my face made it possible for me to be invited to all kinds of parties, even ones held by seniors, it is nothing to brag about but I was just someone that could never go unnoticed. Still I always turned the cards down, I have never been the party type though I had a party freak as a best friend. Parties were just not my thing, still I didn't hesitate to say yes when I got invited to what turned out to be me very first party. How could I  have ever said no when I was asked by the guy I had a huge crush on. He was a senior and I, a junior, it seemed perfect for the fantasy love story I had in my head.

With him in mind, I wanted everything to go perfect. In preparations to the party, I got home one day, the atmosphere was rigid and awkward, yet I didn't seem to mind. Dad and mum must have had their fight again, I could tell but didn't have the leisure time in my hands to act the counsellor. The party was the next day and all that was in my mind then was getting a new dress.

Dad was going for a walk. I begged him to drive and drop me at the mall, he was hesitant but he loved me too much to say no to me. Mum stood at the door watching dad drive the car out of the driveway without waving goodbye. She probably would have done more than waving if she knew that would be the last she saw of him.

We got to the mall, the rain was pouring in buckets. Dad suggested I waited the rain out but my naivety. I was the first out of the car. Too eager to go get a dress that I didn't see the car dashing in my direction. Dad saw it first and rushed to push me out of the way. He succeeded, at least for me, but he wasn't too fortunate. In my place, he was knocked down by the car. Covered in blood and rain, I watched him breath his last. A scene that now plagued my dreams every night and day.

After his death I was never the same. The Psychiatry became my second home. I was later diagnosed of PTSD . For a year I couldn't speak, I would go into a panic attack every time it rained and since that day I never had the courage to look at the face that was a splitting image to my dad's and though the doctors say I would get better with time, it's still the same every morning. It has been Two years now. I blame myself each day for his death, if I had not been that stupid and naive, he would not have been dead. What I would give to turn the hands of time back to that day.

I turn away from the mirror and walk into the bathroom. It didn't take long and I was done with bathing. Now all that was left was to get ready for school. Today was Monday so as much as I would love to go back to sleep, I couldn't help but get ready for school.

Monday... One of the days I hate the most. Actually I hate every day I had to go to school. School became unbearable since that day. I couldn't bare to face school so I ended up missing a year. When I returned, practically no one remembered me and that was because I too had changed. From School beauty, I became the school ghost. Dressed in hoodies and sunglass that shrouded half my face. Students began avoiding me and those that didn't, spent their time bullying me. I never complained about it. I deserved it.

Even still I was grateful that in all I had my best friend through the hard times.

"Sylvie it's time for school" I hear my mum's voice from downstairs.

I grabbed the bag pack off the shelf and rush downstairs.

"Morning mum" I greet in a tone that barely above a whisper. It's a habit I learnt over the years.

"I probably would reply if I had heard anything" she reprimanded amidst trying to save her freshly baked cookies from the claws of my step-dad Lucas.

After being diagnosed of PTSD, mum kept trying to help me overcome it. She was strong, at least in front of me, she tried to be. But she has no idea the times I watched her cry herself to sleep in the kitchen counter or the times I sat by her door and heard her cry in her room.

Meeting Lucas was a start of a new beginning for her. At least now she could smile without tears in her eyes and laugh like she had no worries. I loved the new her, it was only a pity that despite how much I try, I was still a burden to her. Even more a burden to myself.