warning: rated for language and violence

The leaves change colour; the clouds change shape.

There is nothing that will never change.

*

It started on a sunny day. Cliché, but sometimes the reality is so. The way your hair shone in the sunlight; the way your laughter rang across the courtyard. The way your eyes glittered when you spoke of your interests; the way you made everyone feel comfortable with just your presence.

I was prone to it.

The only things that mattered to me were not childish popularity or envy-provoking appearances. I was happy in my private little world.

*

Why did you approach me?

I had nothing that would attract you; nothing that differentiated me from the others. I was just an ordinary, unappealing person who blended in with the background. I remember shoes- those familiar shoes- padding softly across the carpet, and then stopping right in front of my own ones. I did not look up, but that did not stop you from talking to me. You did not receive a reply, of course. No one receives a reply.

Except for you.

*

You just would not go away. In your bringing up, did nobody teach you what disinterest looked like? Greetings turned into invites, which snowballed into letters. Every time my eyebrows pulled together, you seemed to take pleasure in the sight. Was it that funny? My annoyance grew to the point where its texture changed.

*

The first time I looked into your eyes, you flinched from the coldness that radiated from them. How could I tell you I didn’t mean it? How could you understand that you needed to stop if I couldn’t tell you?

After I did not avert my gaze, you finally conjured up the courage to look back. Your hair seemed to have grown longer. Or was it shorter? They skipped across your eyes as the wind blew past: a barrier. Yet the real barrier was undefeatable.

I was glad when your friends distracted your attention so I could silently walk away.

*

If I thought you would back off after that, I was wrong. Your presence still lingered in my field of vision, like a scratch on a phone screen. The reason for it was unclear.

I knew you did not “like” me. Just yesterday you had asked another person out, only to be rejected as they were already in a relationship. I scoffed when I heard the news. Were you so thoughtless you didn’t even bother to check their status? That must be why you could not apprehend my indifference to your apparent 'charms'.

Life would be so much quieter without you.

*

Slowly, your recognizable voice dimmed down to the background, until it completely faded out. A tiny part of me considered the option of not getting used to the silence, but in fact I did. Everything was the same as before, and it was almost perfect.

*

I could not believe you had the nerve to confront me and actually question why I acted the same as before; why I did not feel unused to a life without you. How dare you assume your importance in my life? Who did you think you were?

In that instant something flashed in my thoughts, and I realised there might exist another way to get rid of you.

*

You seemed genuinely happy. I still didn’t get it.

We were sitting opposite each other in some low-class restaurant, famous for its uncleanliness and seedy atmosphere. The only thing that didn’t scream at me to escape was the surprisingly delicious food before us, which made your eyes twinkle like before.

You asked me why I do not smile. Well, I knew what smiling was for, and I just don’t feel that kind of emotion anymore. You didn’t mind it too much, because it did not only apply to you, so you labelled it as one of my habits. My weird habits.

If I was so weird why were you still here?

*

Today was the last time I was going to continue trying. I could not take it anymore.

Your house. I was a bit startled by the peeling walls and dusty corners, but my face stayed unchanged. As I waited for you on the sofa, I revised how I was going to tell you. You’d probably give me that look again. That look as if your mother had died. Disappointed. Sad. Agonized.

The last thing in my head before blackness took over was how childish you were.

*

How wrong I was.

----------------------

“Finally. Ugh. I have been waiting for this moment for so long.”

Clink.

“No, don’t you close your eyes, you . Look at me. LOOK AT ME. That’s right. You useless piece of .”

Clink.

“Are you shocked? Confused? Angry, perhaps? Well I wouldn’t know, would I. Not with your face being so ing blank all the time.”

Clink.

“There’s only one way for me to know, isn’t there?”

Clink.

“What do you keep writing in that notebook? Huh? Every single day, it’s just you and your ing notebook, staring at everyone, creeping the out of everybody. Tell me where it is. Now. Or say goodbye to your fingernails.”

“I don’t – AHHHH!”

“It’s ok, you’ve got nine more chances left.”

“Why are you- AHHHHHH!

Please- AHHHH!

Please stop- AHHHH!

NO!!!!!!

…..”

“It’s… it’s in…. t-t-the b-back... p-p-pocket. P-p-p-pants.”

“There we go. Now that wasn’t so hard was it? You could’ve said that at the start. But then we wouldn’t have found out you actually do have emotions, and that would be such a pity.”

“What is this? What is this crap? I was that annoying, huh? Well, since this notebook is boring as hell, and I’m feeling quite gross with all this blood, I should really clean up now.”

“What are you going to-”

end.