𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙀𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙚 [discontinued]

Chapter Eight

With difficulty, I pull myself off the floor.

Massaging my neck, I checked my arms and wrists for any signs of injury. Not surprisingly, a bruise bloomed on the top of my left arm.

I rolled down my sleeve and walked towards the girls' bathroom across the floor. Thankfully, everyone was in class, else I would have gotten strange looks.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I gasped in shock. My hair was loose and a total mess. My face was red from crying.

Well, it could have been a lot worse, I tried to calm myself. At least your nose is still intact and you don't have a black eye or anything.

Sighing, I combed my hair with my fingers, pulling it back into a ponytail. I splashed water on my face, trying to return it to it's normal color.

Well, I thought. There's no way I'm going to class looking like this.

Other than that, the fight had exhausted me out. I needed a while. I walked to the nearest stall and locked myself in with my thoughts.

Barnaby's words had a less effect on me than my own cowardance did. I was used to meanness by him, yet he had gone too far today. And I had done nothing. Carren wouldn't have stood it; she would have murdered Barnaby for all I knew.

Deep down, a tiny part of me bled guilt for not fulfilling Dad's promise.

● ● ●

"There you are!"

Emily ran up to me as I stood at my locker. P.E had ended, no doubt with Emily being hunted down with dodge balls.

"What kept you the whole class?" She asked, punching my arm.

I tucked at my sleeve to make sure it was still rolled down. "Oh yeah sorry," I sais apologetically. "I got a bad case of uh... diarrhoea? And um.. I thought it's best if I, you know, didn't attend class.

Emily looked intimidated and relieved at the same time. "Oh well, are you okay?" She asked. "You look quite shaken up.."

"Yeah, I'm still recovering, but I'll be fine. Let's get to history class before Mr. Shaw kills us."

The rest of the school day went past normally. I ran into Barnaby Lee several times, but he didn't even look in my direction. He had already done enough. Said enough.

Soon, I was sitting in the school bus, while Emily sat beside me amd ranted about the latest movie.

"I mean, who even picks the ugliest guy they can find to be the hero, hm? Oh, and don't even get me started on the soundtrack.."

Carren walked up and sat in front of us. "Hey," she smiled at Emily.

I rolled my eyes, "what makes you remember us today?"

"Don't get your hopes up, Lucy. My friends have after school clubs today."

She scanned my face. "What happened to you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You look like someone tried to murder you."

I crossed my arms. "Of course not, I'm fine."

"Pfft, she got diarrhoea in P.E.." Emily cut in.

● ● ●

When we got home, we got another surprise: in return for making breakfast, Mom had prepared Carren and mine favourite lunch, spaghetti meatballs.

"Wow, Mom," said Carren, as she devoured her food. "This is delicious."

Mom winked at her. "Well.. it's Grandma Gertude's special recipe. It's been a while since I made one."

But like they say, nothing lasts forever. Soon after we finished dinner, Mom came in carrying mops and brooms.

"Uh, Mom?" I asked. "What are you doing?"

"Spring cleaning," she replied. "Come on girls, the house won't clean itself."

Groaning, Carren and I grabbed the supplies. Mom said we should wash the windows on the second floor while she cleaned the kitchen.

Let me tell you, the windows did not look that big or that dirty on normal days.

While we were scrubbing, Carren asked me, "Did Barnaby do something again?"

"What?"

She pointed to my arm, whise sleeve I had rolled up to prevent getting wet. The bruise was showing.

"Yeah.. but its okay, I'm not hurt.. that much."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd laugh at me, or tell me off for not standing up to him," I sighed. "Again."

"Well, that is exactly what I was going to do! What did you expect? Lucy, seriously, I can't keep fighting your battles all your life. You've got to stand up to that jerk, else he's just gonna keep throwing you around."

I was about to reply when-

"Girls! Come down here quick!"

We rushed down to see Mom standing in the lounge, a torned envelope in her hand. She waved the letter at us.

"Look!" She cried. "A message from your father!"

Carren grabbed the letter. I looked over her shoulder and saw Dad's handwriting on the paper. It looks like his hand was shaking while he wrote this.

My dear family,

You may be surprised to see this letter, but I had to deliver this to you even if it meant waking up at dawn and walking several miles. I hope this finds you in best of health.

Starting with the situation here, I'll say this: cold. Very cold. That is why the troops are having trouble. Some nights we get snowed in our cabins. Rations and supplies are limited, but available.

I have been appointed as a Deputy Command Officer, which means I get to plan out battle strategy for the day. However, given the weather, there are hardly any battles. It is expected that both sides are falling back.

I shall try to send more letters to you, do not worry of you do not hear from me in a while.

Lastly, a very happy resolution day to you all. I shall certainly miss the fireworks. Have fun.

Yours forever,
Eric

By supper, everyone seemed to be in a happy mood. Dad's letter had indeed helped lift our spirits. He had said that the war was seizing. He had been given a lead position, which meant he was out of immediate danger, at least for a while.

As I went to bed that night, watching the resolutions freworks light up the sky, pur room's walls reflecting the array of colors, I realized that this was the first resolution day we had not been with that.

Sleep only brought back memories.