Heated.

Chapter One.

How long had she been there? she didn't really know. But it didn't matter, nothing did. All that could be heard was silence. The pounding of her own heart could barely be singled out, every sound either muted or swallowed by the enveloping stillness. Most people would be scared, but she embraced it. The burning in her lungs reminded her that she was still alive and that somehow when put in a life or death situation, she would choose life. But she knew that her silent contemplation would be interrupted because pretty soon people would be coming, and if she wanted to remain at peace, she would have to leave soon.

She rose up from the bottom, the cold air hitting her nostrils , lungs and heart. Even though she is gasping for air, the water clung to her body, trying to welcome her back, trying to make her return to the peace and tranquility she found underneath the surface. She sighed, her breathing had since returned to normal, and walked to the locker room to put back on her clothes.

Before walking past the mirror she looked at her features. Wet, curly strands sticking to her caramel colored face and neck, eyes once so full of joy, now almost transparent in sadness. She thought, "i was once so beautiful, now i can't even stand to live with myself". A small smirk played on her lips as she put her clothes back on and sauntered out of the room. Head hung low, she let the students of her school force themselves past her and offer no apology as if she wasn't there.

She wasn't.

Physically she was, but inside she was nothing but a shell. A ghost, if you will. The pool water was such a contrast compared to the deafening noise that filled the halls. People laughing and jeering at each other, others trying to desperately to move past the people that stopped themselves in the middle of the hallway. Among the noise, there were few phrases that her ears always heard.

"That's the girl. That's the girl who's boyfriend killed himself."

When she first heard those words she would run away, or yell that what her boyfriend did was not who she was, and even though it happened you can't keep bringing it up as if that was all he was either. Now she just walks past it, the numb feeling of pain seizing her stomach and then receding back to the point where she felt nothingness once again.
She walks into her class, taking her usual seat in the front. She used to sit in the back where her bestfriend was, but when her boyfriend drowned himself in the ocean last summer, everyone didn't want negative energy "bringing them down." Her bestfriend was the last to leave....after people starting creating rumors that she killed him because she was in love with him, She yelled at her in the cafeteria and told her to "suck it up, because let's face it Sahara, he's never coming back". They abruptly stopped speaking to eachother .

Sahara.

The name her mother gave her didn't even seem like her own anymore. Nobody ever said it and even when they did, it didn't sound as good as when Asim said it.

Asim.

It's ironic how his name means 'protector' in Arabic, but there was no one to protect him from his own despair. Who even knew that he was depressed. Always well groomed on the outside, always smiling. His hazel eyes sparkled when he spoke to people, even people he just met. Soccer was going to take him to college, and he honestly could've been so much more. Near the end of his life he slowly become more withdrawn. His eyes lost that once everlasting glow, and his skin lost that 'Asim' signature smell. He didn't speak as much either, and at any sign of her he would just smirk and kiss her head. He would look at her as if he wanted to remember her face and he would hold her as if she was the answer to all of his problems. Clearly she wasn't, because when his body washed up to the shore the police told her that there was no indication of a struggle which meant that he walked in voluntarily.

Her thoughts slowly come back to the present as she looked around and realized there was a shift in the atmosphere in the classroom. People were buzzing, and the buzzing usually meant there was something going on worth talking about. Sahara looks to the back and makes eye contact with her old bestfriend. Her face looks a pale white and when her eyes meet hers she signals her to look to the front of the classroom. She turns slowly and her breath hitches when she sees who's standing there.