The Mystery of Anaïs Harper Hill.

storms we cannot weather

There are dreams that cannot be/And there are storms we cannot weather - Les Miserables

~~~

Hey, stop trying to figure out who I am. I'm not a person, we've been over this. You are here for Anaïs, and Anaïs alone. God knows she needs relief. A friend to rely on, a person she can hug for 20 minutes straight without speaking or moving away. Her love language is physical touch, and she's starved for it. Admittedly, she's entertained the thought of a boyfriend, to have someone she can rely on that's closer than a normal friend but who isn't her family, but going into her final year of school, the mere thought appals her. She's not falling in love any time soon, oh no. She's seen what heartbreak does to people, and she's going to avoid that. Or that's the plan, that is. Will it succeed? That's anyone's guess. Her money's on it backfiring horribly.

A few years ago, Anaïs witnessed a relationship she thought would last forever come to an end. Of course, that is the nature of a relationship, with all of them ending in an end, whether by death, subversion or separation. Even a loss of love and loyalty. She knows this. She knows that's the risk she'll have to take to be in a relationship, but she's not ready to take that. Hell, she's not ready to do half of what she does, but she does it anyway. No, it was not her relationship, she's never been in one. Her expectation of guys have skyrocketed after thoroughly analysing musicals (don't be an A.Ham, just don't), books (get yourself a Friedrich Bhaer), and nearby boys schools (raise your standard to accept only the best). See? Planned to a t.

Only problem - life is unpredictable. She knows this, yet deep down, she just wants things to be simple, I can tell you that much. Her life until now has been so much more complicated than you'd think a 16 year old's would be. It's not the play she's writing, and no, she's not in a love triangle or any absurd love-themed idea. It's been torture, waking up, going to sleep, everything in-between. Going to sleep, waking up, everything in-between.

Anaïs means grace. It's french, and is really fancy, in her opinion. Her parents aren't french, not even distantly. Pretentious, it seems, to have a name with an umlaut. Pretence. Fake. Just like the smiles she binds to her face every day. It's not like anyone would know. It's been six years, and even those closest to her haven't guessed. That's the beauty of feigned happiness. If they don't know you well enough, they think it's real.

If she can help it, no one will find out for a long time. Perhaps this will be one of the secrets she'll carry to her grave. Who's she kidding, it won't last that long. She can only hope she can last till the next holidays, where she can sleep her issues away. Also so she won't have to interact with people. Last time, she managed to avoid all face-to-face contact last holidays, save for one two minute interaction. It was an accident. If that isn't an indication of her antisocial personality, I don't know what is.

Who needs people? Not her.

~~~

xlyssx