Injustice || d.m

I - a message

zahara ⚕

I stare absentmindedly at the clock that slowly ticks away, as I watch my primary school journey, slowly begin to end, as I depart to the next phase of my life.

All my fellow classmates sit at the edge of there seats, also eyeing the clock.

The sound of the bell suddenly snapping me out of thought, was music to my ears. Suddenly I'm bombarded of groups of crying girls, who seem to be crashing into each other but they would refer it as to 'hugging'.

I tried to feel the pain of leaving my friends behind, but to be honest, I wouldn't even like to refer to them as my 'friends'. They treated me like some sort of outcast, when in reality they were just the same as me, wanting to fit in.

Before I know it, I am pulled into an embrace by a muscular figure. My eyes meet his deep chocolate eyes, and I don't hesitate to back away when I notify who it is.

"That hurt my heart." Nate fake pouts, as he places his hand over dramatically onto his heart.

"How can it hurt your heart, when you don't have one?" I snap back without hesitation. I turn away, and make my way out of the classroom full of students that I don't plan on remembering.

"Zahara Emila Hudson, I'll be seeing you much sooner then you expect" Nate calls out to me.

I don't even acknowledge his comment and keep walking. I swiftly make my way to the front gate, staring at my worn out, brown school shoes, bumping into shoulders of my old classmates, not bothering to look up and apologise.

When I place one foot outside of the front school gate, I sigh in relief, discovering the feeling of freedom. I feel the weight of pressure to be perfect lifted off my shoulders, and for the first time in forever, I can feel the tug of my lips form into a smile.

I causually begin the journey back home, taking the same route I have always taken. The memories of my early primary school years flood back to me.

To make my walk less miserable, I begin to fill time by counting each step I take.

"392... 393.... 394," Then, I notice a purple blur, which my foot has landed upon. Expecting it to be some sort of chewing gum that an imature child had thrown onto the ground, I realize it's not sticky as I raise my foot up.

I bend down to study this unusal item more closey, to recongize it as a Violet Pebble. I extend my arm down to the pebble, pinching onto it with my thumb and index finger, to be startled by two roaring cars, and as I turn around, I am greeted by a massive silver Toyota with a man hitting the breaks inches away from me. He begins furiously slamming his hands on the cars horn. I turn my attention to the stunning black limo, speeding away from the distance. But just before it disapears from sight, I catch a glimpse of the boy with platinum gold hair, gelled back neatly.

I turn my gaze towards the apologetic man who nearly made me road kill, and just nod my head and smile, clutching onto my lucky Viliot Pebble, running the rest of the way home.

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I breathlessly open the front door to my cozy house, stumbling into the house and plonking onto the couch, kicking my shoes off.

I groan in realization that my hunger for food was extremely high. I continue to groan at the fact that I have to get off the couch. But I slowly make my way towards the fridge, lazily pulling it open and gazing at the amount of food in stored.

Do my eyes deceive me?

All I view is a old can of ham, a nearly brown banana, and a half eaten tub of strawberry yogurt.

I grab the yogurt and rush to clutch a spoon, racing towards the couch, but then notice my older brother has taken my seat.

"Get off you idiot." I yell, pelting my spoon full of strawberry yogurt at his ugly face, and I laugh hesterically as the thick substance which has splattered all over his face.

I expect him to fight back, but he doesn't even bother. He just reluctantly wipes the yogurt off his face and flicks it onto the birch wood floor. He suddenly gets up, not bothering to even eye me, as he storms upstairs.

I stare blankly at his reaction, but I get tired of standing so I fall back onto the couch. I mindlessly grab the remote and turn the tv on, without even looking towards it. I end up on some Spanish talk show.

I look up to watch the people, as a petite tan woman sits down on a red loveseat, and before her is some woman who looks like some sort of hippy. She held onto a tea cup, showing the interviewer next to her the cup, which contained some sort of coffee muck.

The hippy like woman, whispers to the interviewer something, and I believe the interviewer then translates it in spanish.

"Pronto su vida tomará un giro inesperado, su futuro está esperando!"

Suddenly I feel this feeling, start in my heart, then spread through my veins, like the Tv was sending me some sort of message.

Like it was just meant for me...

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