PINK

1

'Things in my head play out differently in reality.

What I see, he will never see.'

Iara lays on her back against the comfy sheets of the bed beneath. The bleak walls of her room are non-existent in her mind; in her mind she is wrapped in his arms, safe and loved.

A feeling of warmth comes forth out of her chest and she can feel his heat too. They intertwine and spark a bright fire which dances in front of their twinkling eyes.

This fire suddenly dims and falls to the ground, it's kindling spreading and causing the green grass to become burnt and brittle. Her starts to be endowed with panic as she can only observe this fire engulf her family home. Frantically looking back, he is gone and she feels herself falling through the ground.

Iara gasps as her eyelids fly open.

She is no longer falling, but instead resting on her bed.

Furrowing her eyebrows she tugs on the first drawer of her bedside table, pulling out a black journal. She flicks to the page where the ribbon sits between.

Jotting down the date first then recounting her mediation session. As she writes down what she envisioned, the all too familiar feelings of abandonment and fear arise again.

She pauses and takes a deep breath in, but it proves too much.

Her hands start to tremble and tears begin to form in her eyes. She moans slightly, trying to release this unknown accumulation of emotions. She blinks rapidly, hoping to cause the tears to disperse but to no avail. They drop onto the page and the ever so slightly sound of the them falling fills the room. Iara watches as the liquid mingles with the black ink, creating streaks of light purple to run over the page.

This somehow soothes her and her feelings of apprehension start to subside. The ring of her phone breaks the moment. Looking over she sees it's a message from her current boyfriend.

Usually she would leap to her phone, eager to engage in hour long conversations; lately she hasn't been feeling that. Chewing her bottom lip she wraps the phone gently in her hand.

Iara doesn't mind texting because she can fake all the emotions. She doesn't like to do it, but she doesn't want him to know her true feelings towards him.

Ever since Braden has been getting attention from other girls, Iara has felt outcast. It's not that she's jealous, she does not mind him conversing with others. It's the way he acts towards them. He acts and says the exact same things he did towards Iara when they first met.

Braden seems like he is insensitive. The last time she cried in his arms he slowly pushed her off and left. God forbid he ask if she's okay, or even any question regarding her.

Everything is about him.

The phone vibrates and his face pops up on the screen. Iara feels the acquainted feeling of dread and emptiness and she taps the green phone image on her screen.

"Hi babe." He coos.

She rolls her eyes. Telling him so many times she dislikes pet names, he doesn't seem to listen. Not wanting to create conflict Iara smiles on command and tries to raise her spirits.

"Hey, what's up?" She replies cheerfully.

"Nothing, just wondering if you'd like to come to a party with me tonight. It's going to be lit." He chuckles.

Iara hates the parties Braden goes to. Drunk teens litter the narrow halls of one of the other teen's parents' house, it's the same everytime.

"Uh, I really don't want to, I have to study." She replies.

He scoffs.

"You are so boring! Don't you like me or something?" He exclaims.

Guilt starts to build up in Iara's mind. She knows she has nothing to be guilty about, but it just happens.

"I-I do."

"Then why the hell would you rather study than come with me? It makes no sense, I'll take Kasey instead." His voice becomes distant.

Iara knows that he has walked off. He always leaves his phone when he doesn't get his way. This just further reinforces the guilt.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave." She begs.

Why does she beg for him? Although she knows he doesn't care.

"I'll come!" She yells.

A few seconds pass.

"Cool, I'll pick you up at 6."

"Okay by-"

The dial tone sounds, he has hung up.

"Bye." She whispers to herself.