Decimation

Chapter 2

2

"I'm cold." I say, shivering with my coffee cup in my hand. Nick sighs.

He takes another sip of his hot beverage before motioning for me.

"Come here," he says, holding his arms out to me. I go to him, and let him warm embrace fulfill me.

"Nick," I say, my voice muffled through his jacket.

"Hmm?"

"Never mind." I say, biting my lip. He pulls back a little so he can see my face. He knows me too well to know that something's bothering me. And I know him too well to lie to him.

"What is it?"

"I wrote it..I'm sorry Nick." I say, my insides turning. I handed in my paper early-so he wouldn't make me change it. They have to know the truth-why we're here, not why they say we're here. Everyone does. And I prepare to read my speech to the entire school, not just the classroom.

"Wrote what? Chey??" I look at the ground, because I can't look at him. I can't look in his eyes to see all the hurt that blames me for lying to him, and for going behind his back when he was only trying to protect me.

"I wrote the truth." I say solemnly, quiet and my hands start shaking on my cup. I look at him, averting his eyes.

"You can't turn it in." he says, clenching his jaw.

"It's too late, I already did."

"Damn it, Chey!" he yells, and I jump, spilling my coffee in the snow. The brown liquid melts into the frozen ice, covering my tracks. I can feel the shame well up inside my eyes, my jaw trembling, my hands getting colder by the minute. My heart pounding, because I'm scared, scared of what I have done.

Without another word, Nick walks off, leaving me in the cold.

I bite my lip so hard, blood drips from my lip like a silent tear drips down my cheek. I wonder if it'll freeze on my skin before it rolls off my chin. I feel hurt, misunderstood, so upset I could lay in the snow and never get up. It's not fair. I did what I thought was right. My whole body shakes while I cry, stifling my tears and the pain tears at my heart.

I cradle my body with my arms in the snow-my black hair must be poking through the snow like the sun does through the clouds.

"Chey! Chey, is that you?" I'm still trembling all over as Kia pulls me to my feet.

"K-k-i-uh-" my teeth chatter and I can't bring my numb lips to say anything.

"Oh, chey." Kia says, and puts her arm around me as we trudge through the heavy snow and she walks me back to the minor building.

Once I'm warming up by the electric fireplace, a blanket wrapped around me and a hot pack wrapped in my hands, I chew my lip and slowly lift my shaking hand up to my face to brush a strand piece of hair away.

My lips were blue, but the warmth is slowly returning to them and the nerves in my hand tingle and sting from the cold. Kia looks at me. "Are you alright?" she whispers, and all I can do is nod. I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from thinking about Nick. How could he just leave me there? Jerk. I hate him. I hate him.

"What happened?" she nearly whispers.

"Nick." I say faintly. "I told him what I wrote on my essay-I-I-he got mad." I look at her, all hope evaporating from her hazel eyes. "He left me there." I say.

Her eyes go wide, and she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out. "That jerk!" she yells, jumping up. "I'm going to kill him." she swears under her breath.

I squeeze my eyes shut, the choppy layers of my thick, straight hair falling across my shoulders. It's damp from the snow. "I should take a shower." I sniffle, and push my hair back. I got it emo cut when i turned 14, and a tongue piercing last year.

I strip all my clothes off into I'm naked, locking the door and I quickly remember to take the thick black makeup that lines my eyes off before heading in the shower. As soon as the warm water hits my back, I hear my favorite song playing on the radio, and I still have the energy to smile, even just a little.

After my shower, I use my electric flat iron brush to straighten my hair. I comb my big swoopy side bangs to the side, and stare at myself in the mirror.

I see a girl with choppy black hair and deep, confused brown eyes staring back at me. I tilt my head, and she moves when I do but it's not the same. I feel like a stranger in my own life. Like I'm wearing someone else's clothes. I press my hands against the cool surface of the mirror, and that's when I notice it.

The small chip in my forehead. It's a tiny glint of metal, you can hardly see it past my bangs which cover my forehead, but I know it's there, poking just enough out of my flesh. I push my bangs aside, and run my fingers over the cool metal. I shiver at the icy touch of them, and it sends shudders throughout my body.

I don't bother reapplying my makeup, instead I change into sweatpants and a loose t shirt.

I glance around my grey ombre walls with music volume levels climbing up them, and posters of soundtracks of my favorite playlists and artists. The big blacks disks on the walls. And of course there's my grey and white big bedspread with music notes covering it. Unless you couldn't tell, I'm really in to music. Punk, rock, pop, emo, you name it. Sometimes even screamo.

I sit at the desk in the corner of my room, and tap on the rectangular black strip on my desk. It lights up and projects the 'invisible' screen in the air, and I snap my fingers twice for it to get brighter.

Then, I think my room feels too boring so I snap my fingers and a playlist comes on, the volume levels on my walls, rising and falling and lighting up my room with different colors. My lights flicker off to project their momentum.