Downfall.

Chapter 4

I dragged my feet inside, my body barely moving. I was so worn out from today. I was still covered in now dried red paint, my hair was a mess, and I was dead tired. And to top it all off, I made no new friends today. The only encounters I had involved me getting shoved down into the gravel and getting paint splashed all over me. Excellent. 

I ripped off my paint destroyed shirt and chucked it in the kitchen trash can. It was ruined, no use of trying to get the paint out. I'd explain to my mom later, I decided. Tip toe-ing up the wooden stairs. 

Our house was simple. Two floors. First floor: kitchen, living room, master bedroom, bathroom, and a dining room. 

Second floor: Kyle's (my brother) bedroom, mine, and bathrooms connecting to each of them. 

Like I said, simple. 

I reached my room, flung on an old t shirt with some kind of penguin on it, and then flopped my body down onto the mattress. No bed frame yet, so it was simply just a mattress on an oak floor. I rolled to one side so I could see the door. I left it open... Damn. I heard the door shut down below and clicked my iPhone. It was 3:30, meaning that was Kyle coming home. I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs softly, careful not to wake mom. Because that's what you do when someone is that sick. You tiptoe around them, careful not to disrupt them, careful not to disrupt anything. His small figure started to pass my door, but I stopped him. "Kyle." I said, softly. His eyes met mine, bloodshot. My eyebrows furrowed in concern. He arched one of his eyebrows back at me. "Are you okay...?" I tried. He shrugged. I sighed again. Ever since mom had gotten sick, Kyle had taken up a vow of silence. Didn't say much. Didn't say anything for that matter. Mom had been sick for 3 months. Kyle had been silent for 3 months. It came as a package deal. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying not to think any more. "Can you shut the door please?" I managed, my voice shaking slightly. He gave me a worried look, but did what I had asked, shutting the door on me, leaving me alone with my haunted thoughts and the demons inside my head. I closed my eyes, trying to escape everything, and soon fell into a troubled sleep.

~~~~~~

"Ava. Ava, wake up." 

I groaned. I didn't want to wake up. Waking up meant facing reality. Waking up meant facing my sick mother. My mute brother. My barely-holding-it-together father. So instead of opening my eyes and getting up, I muttered a defiant "No." 

Yeah. I was a sassy little shit. 

"Ava, please. It's time for school." the voice said again. Wait...what? I tore open my bleary eyelids and found myself staring up into my father's concerned face. "You slept through dinner and all of last night.. Must've had a rough first day, huh?" he murmured, looking down at me. I mumbled a yes, my head pouding. This always happened when I slept for too long, these headaches. My dad reached out a calloused, tough hand for me, and I grabbed it, being pulled to my feet. "How is she today?" I managed to ask. He looked at me, his eyes trying to mask the pain he was feeling. The mask failed, I saw right through him. "You know how it is. Some days are better than others." he said slowly. 

That meant that today was not one of those days. I sighed and got ready for school.

~~~~~~

I walked in to first period sligthly more graceful than yesterday. I took my same seat next to the skinny blonde kid. I looked him over again, taking in the way he was rapidly tapping his foot against the chair. He was tapping out a rhythm, I realized, when his hands joined in at a similar tempo. I had played piano for a long time over in Oregon, before my mom got sick and we couldn't pay for it anymore. I recognized tempo and music when I heard it. I studied the way his fingers moved with the tapping of his foot, until he slowly came to a stop. "Six degrees of seperation. It's by The Script." the boy said, in a surprisingly deep voice. Startled, I opened my mouth to reply, but said nothing. Instead, I wrote the title slowly on one of the pages inside of my school planner. I didnt look at him, only nodded as I finished writing. 

Math was death. I hated everyone in there. They were all stuck up prep snobs. And then there were the jocks. Including the boy who had shoved me down in the gravel that first day. My bestest friend. Aka my least favorite asshole. Even better. 

I managed to make a friend in journal writing. The girl that sat next to me, her name was indeed Lacey. She had auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and always dressed like she was ready to have her photo taken at any second. She sat with me at lunch today. 

As fourth period rolled around, I felt the nervous pit in my stomach growing into a funnel of anxiety. I felt so out of place in that class, among all the art geeks who seemed to have a burning passion for their pastels. I was simply the girl who fiddeled with cameras. The only person who even touched the cameras, might I add. 

I walked in to the easy going atmosphere and was immediately greeted by the soft hum of music in the background. I noticed an old record player spinning in the corner, the source of the music. I straighted my navy blue blouse and tucked some of my mud brown hair behind my ears, a nervous habit of mine. My eyes found the photo booth again, and I slowly wandered towards it, careful not to bump into anybody or anything. I carefully picked up a beautiful sony camera, with a massive lense and features so delicate I was afraid to even touch it. I flipped open the side, checking for a memory card. There was one, along with a shiny new battery. I slowly flicked the switch to on, feeling the beautiful object come alive in my fingertips. I brought the camera to my eye, looking through the lense hole. I drew it away from my eye, adjusting some settings, deciding to try the black and white style, and leaned down to a wooden table with dull silver nails holding it together. I brought the camera back up to my eye again, moving around the table until it looked right. I brought my finger down upon the silver button and pushed, hearing a satisfying, quiet clicking noise as I snapped the picture. A sudden shot of happiness shot through me, startling me. It had felt good to take that simple picture, had given me a shiny spark of feeling. I was thinking about this when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see the teacher looking at me curiously. I felt a surge of unexplained guilt and shut the camera off. "Sorry I just wanted to test it out..." I murmured, not knowing what else to say. He looked puzzled. "Why are you apologizing? These cameras are for student use. You're just the first person I've seen interested in them. And I was wondering your name?" he asked, an easy smile on his face. I smiled shyly in return, still slightly embarrassed. "Ava." I said quietly. He nodded, taking it in. "Ava, you're welcome to use these cameras anytime. Like I always say, set your mind free." He said dramatically, shaking his fingers at me, as he walked away. I was studying the other cameras when I felt another tap on my shoulder. I turned, expecting to see the teacher again. But I was wrong. I came face to face with the mexican boy again. Startled, I blinked and jolted a little in surprise. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry about yesterday, and I was wondering if I could catch your name?" he said smoothly, his eyes still holding that same air of mystery. I waved a hand at him, brushing away the apology. "Dont worry about it. And my name is Ava. And you are..?" I tried to say smoothly, managing to accomplish this with only a hint of a shake in my voice. A shadow of a smile etched itself upon his strong features, making him look more approachable, less intimidating. "Alex." he said.