25. Fondness and Farewells

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The clock, it takes me in for every inch, latched on to the far wall, just above the fairly red cabinet. It challenges me, mocks me, laughs at me. It's been like this for one day, of late. I've been robbed of my ability to concentrate, focus, and live. Ever since that bloody phone call, the sounds of my house have been reduced to the timely click of the second hand, traveling around and around. There are not many disturbances, trust me, there aren't. Maybe Paris coming home with Jackson every now and then, and their gentle banter until 6 o' clock when he leaves, or the soft rumble of cars tumbling down the street outside.

I let my dry eyes close, just for a second, before they pop back open as the door creaks open a smidgen. A curious set of dolphins peer back at me, eyeing me with an intriguing gleefulness.

"Mom says dinner's ready." Paris squeaks, averting her gaze to a picture frame on the window sill.

"I'm not hungry." I froth bitterly, unknowingly provoking her to enter my room, despite my permission, and take a light seat on the foot of my mattress.

"Me neither." She sighs, leaning back on her palms. "Have you started packing yet?"

"No." I answer stiffly, barely cutting her off. My eyesight grows grim, and I fall back on my pillows in aggravation.

"Oh. That's okay. We still have plenty of-"

"I haven't started because I'm not going."

Her face contorts to that of confusion; not that I can blame her. I don't even know what I'm saying. How can I say I'm not going? I don't want to go, true, but it's not like there's anything I can do about it.

"What do you-"

"Let's go get some dinner."

For a bloody moment there, I slightly convinced myself that I didn't have to pack up my life, and return to the hell hole of poverty and depression. Just for a simple, fucking moment. 

Leaving. Leaving everybody.

The big, once intimidating double doors of my high school, nothing but a memory; the faces of the people I had once known; the freedom.

In Nicaragua, the 'common cold' could take out an entire town, 'cause there's no money for medicine. There ain't money for anything. You think you got it bad? Go look through the other side of the glass. And by glass, no I do not mean the glass of your iPhone 4S.

Bothering to go to school, yeah right. Yesterday, I couldn't even will myself to get up and out of bed for fear I'd prove that this is actually all real, that I can feel my surroundings and see that I'm not dreaming. I hope they're not going to worry about it. I hope…

So I have another day, and then I'm leaving. For good.

And there's nothing… absolutely nothing I can do about it.

A black pit forms at the bottom of stomach, and a heat travels through my body, uncomfortably all the while. I'm going to have to tell them. Everyone. Jackson, Arabella, Tanner, if they don't already know.

And Kenny.

How would I even be able to confront him about something like that? It's worse than an actual breakup.

Maybe I should just breakup with him so he doesn't have to deal with this.

But the sad thing is that… I don't want to break up with him.

When I'm with him, I forget about the world and it's troubles. I forget that I'm a nobody, because with him, I'm a somebody. I'm worth something.

...

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