Lonely Hearts & Butterfly Kisses

8:57 A.M. Yes, just got to class in time.

8:59 A.M. Alright Zach, you got this, all you have to do is act calm and collective.

9:00 A.M. Just pretend you're working on something really interesting.

9:04 A.M. Okay, just one minute left on the clock, you totally have it down.

And just as soon, the bell struck, reverberating throughout each cold concrete wall. The students seeped into the room through the walls as the sound continued and, right on cue, walked in as casually as ever was her. You didn't even have to utter her name anymore, everyone just automatically knew who you were referring to by now. If there was a simple word to describe her, you'd have to be as dumb as Riley Lock, the school dunce who never got a letter higher than D in high school, to use it. It was like looking at a movie star with all the make up on, except with her, there never appeared to be any extra layer to her skin. And yet, she would still be right there, in the exact same space as a low life human.

I glanced from my intense work of pretending to see where her eyes were angled towards. Just what my deepest fears believed, they were always just ever so slightly angled to the very left or right of me. There would be times that I would just quickly and quietly push my desk to her general direction, but someone would always push it back to the right spot, the jerk. It had only been just recently that I fully understood her stunning appearance, to which I slap myself for not realizing sooner. Pulling my eyes between both notebook and her, I would observe anything I saw her do, the cute ways she had her hair done, the dyes she'd splash in her hair one night just to spice things up, just about anything I noticed was logged into my sea of knowledge.

Class would then start five minutes later, but I'd pay no heed to it nor did I ever understand a lick of what Mr. Greene, ironically our science teacher, would spew out about our fair world. The boring repetition of venturing between my classes would continue for what seemed like forever until that fateful sixth bell rang, and I'd be allowed my commoners break. Every day I took my seat at the closet chair to the glass pane at the right hand corner of the room. No one dared touch over here for some reason, but that was just fine with me, save me the social awkwardness of sitting near you. Everyone as well sat in their usual spots, except for her, who'd always switch up her spot every day. I wound up making a guessing game as to why she did, but I came to the conclusion that she's the type to be spontaneous and out of the blue, as a means to keep things from getting stale. Funny thing was, she never sat over here, at my usual spot. I checked the way I looked and how I smelled, but I found nothing outrageously wrong with me.

And I would just sit there, my appetite seemingly never present, and then the bell would signal the second half of the grueling day, and considering I would never see her again for the rest of it, peeved me. Mrs. Squale gave her lecture about the nineteenth century and Mrs. Till gave out her annual confusing math quizzes that'd she'd never hand back to us, business as usual. As the minutes counted down to the last second, the tension in the air grew and millions of flips, slams, and zips would rhythmically sound off it was time to leave my prison and head home.

Home was nothing thrilling though, my mom would always be asleep coming from work, and dad was never there from the beginning, so I'd just quickly fix a plate of whatever odds and ends where hiding in our kitchen, work on the homework assigned, and go to my room to sleep. Who knew life could be oh so boring.

One day, however, things seemed to get so much better than ever before. I left for school well after my mom had already gone for work. Entering the classroom at my predetermined time, I was surprised to see her, in class and ready for boring old school. Maybe her mom pushed her out of bed early? Or her alarm glitched and went off a half before it should've? Either way, the joy erupted from my membrane as I gleefully walked to my seat, still trying to maintain that cool and calm look. Sitting, I took a peek as I fumbled stupidly through my black messenger bag, and there it was. Her eyes were angled perfectly to look right in my direction. Managing to steal two looks, I calmly grabbed my signature notebook and pen, trying to make myself look interesting. Continually observing the corner of my eyesight, she still looked this way, even when talking to friends. Woah, woah, did my hair look cleaner today? Did I look livelier than before? I must have been doing something different to gain her gracious attention, and I needed to find out what. Just a quick walk over to say hey, I reassured myself, but it was not to be as the bell rang the start of class. Ugh, only one more opportunity for today, and then I'll have to wait longer than I want to.

The classes dragged on like a person teasing you with your favorite toy, and finally the middle period came as I hopped and skipped out of my seat and towards the lunchroom, moving in between classmates with my slim demeanor. The overflowing fluster of my joy continued to build the closer I got to that dirty and unsanitary room, and it finally realized into one big muddle around me as I saw the one thing that I had given up on dreaming about. Her. Was it her, sitting where I do? It couldn't be...but surely it was. And she was sitting in my seat! There was no one that had her look, the look that gave off an saintly glow. Mustering all of my godforsaken courage that was left after the mess of joy, I took my walk to the pearly gates of heaven. I slowly found my way to the chair across from her. Staring out at the window, I snipped glances at her; she didn't seem to pay much notice as she concentrated on the notebook and pen in her hand. You just say it, idiot. Say what? Hey... Is that it? Is that all you can think of? I'm not used to talking to others so shut it. Ugh, just say something, dammit. Suck in your breath, release, and speak.

As my the breath escaped the confines of my mouth, a voice from behind spoke up. A girl, one of her friends, one of the ones I didn't like. I stared at her with discern as she asked idly as to why she sat here. What's so wrong with being here? What's so wrong with sitting by me? I haven't been quarantined. But then, a spell erupted from her lips. "You remembered what happened right? Why are you sitting here?" Oh ho ho, what was that you say, what did you say? I repeated my question out loud, but they ignored me, I must've spoken too quietly in this noisy room. Frustrated, I gave up, like usual, instead putting my effort into peering in on the conversation. "I just...want to be here, okay?" "Well, alright then..." And with that somber closing of a conversation, the girl left us to ourselves. I noticed her slump back in her seat, continuing to do what appeared to be drawing. I slyly leaned over to see if I could tell what it was she was drawing. Butterflies roamed the white paper, fluttering out of what appeared to be a cracked egg. No, upon a slightly closer look, it was clear that it was actually a heart. My heart started to beat so fast the noise of it covered me like a blanket as I continued to watch her draw. Was that...for me? Was that why she was over here, so I would inevitably peek over and just happened to notice her drawing? Could it be she was trying to indirectly speak to me after all this time?

The gleefulness didn't last, however, as my obnoxious paranoia clouded me. Well, couldn't it be for someone else, and she just sat over here so he wouldn't notice? This was the best place to sit if you wanted to go unnoticed. The more I thought, the more possible it continued to seem, and this feeling of despair anchored my heart down below to my abdomen. Sitting there, unnoticing to what she was still drawing as it not seemed to matter, I started another famous battle within. Ticking clocks ticked on as the bell gave a resounding brrrrrrr, finally waking me from trance. She had already gone, probably depressed by the sorry sight of me, but what's this? It was the drawing she had worked on. Hesitatingly taking a look, I finally knew what exactly she was drawing. In the picture were five distinct things; two parallel yellow lines on both sides of the paper, the same cracked open heart sprawling in between, the six butterflies fluttering away out of the paper, blood surrounding the heart, and lastly, tire skids across the whole paper.

What...what was this? Yellow lines? Tire skids? Why did she draw such weird things? Normally, I would never think she could think of such odd things. But then, I noticed something on the back, writing it seemed. When I flipped it over, I read two words, and those two shattered the fake reality, the enclosed bubble, I had been encased in. Running to the bathroom as the late bell rang, I slammed the first stall shut as I let the latrine take my vomit. A combination of tears, vomit, and mucous appeared all at once as the memory rushed back into my head.

It was a quiet Thursday two months ago, and I had left the house to go to the gas station to buy a snack, as I had already consumed all the food at home. While I walked out onto the corner of Widgedrove and Nettleburg, I had dropped the change in my tiny pockets while taking out my iPod. Cursing as I kneeled down quickly to grab the change, the pain struck me as I felt my back hit first onto the hard concrete, pushed back by the force of a thousand men. A strange liquid seeped out of my skin and coated me while I lay there, eyes half open. My blaring music lay to my left in my broken arm, and blood soaked change lay scattered about. A familiar voice then entered my decaying ears, cries from a distant land. And there she was, her. Her perfection stayed even though her face was filled with wretched distraught, as she tainted her beautiful hands on me. Quiet words of reassurance were uttered while she yelled at another to dial those three digits. There were so many things I wanted to say at the time, but my voice had been rendered useless the moment of impact. And slowly, very slowly, I succumbed to the multicolored hues that surrounded me as I folded into myself.

I started to cough loudly and profusely as the final memory cemented into my cerebrum. This past month, it was all a lie. My heart had never really fluttered for her, the only reason I had taken such a deep interest in her was because she had done such an unthinkable act. And she also had no care for me, her only feeling toward me distraught and pity. She sat at my table as just a final goodbye, she only drew that picture to flush out all of the thoughts of guilt and despair that engulf her. If the incident had never happened, her mind would've been free of me to begin with. No one else besides the ones who birthed me had taken any real care for me. No, they only felt the pity of such a waste for life. All I was was just a lonely heart, looking for any type of affection from another, even if it were just butterfly kisses.

Crying at the realization, I screamed and shouted as I hit the walls as hard as I could. Each painstaking blow ruptured throughout my body each and every time, fracturing my bones. By my final punch I didn't even make it to the wall before I collapsed onto the porcelain floor. The red stained my white tee as I lay there, those same multicolored hues engulfing my peripheral vision, before I edged out into darkness.