Status: Happy.
Like We Used To
I'll be the question, If you'll be the answer
Aleta
He’s moving away again. Like he’s trying to just forget about everything, like he always do. Why does he always do that? I thought. But I won’t let him get away this time. I won’t let it happen again. The last time I did, I eventually broke myself.
But my muscles just wouldn’t move. They won’t. I can’t let him slip away. But why won’t I move. Just stared at him walking further and further away. Then I saw his arm bleeding, a long cut visible as he moved away.
I stood up and ran towards him, grabbing his other arm, ‘Wait,’ I whispered, voice cracking. He stopped but didn’t bother to look at me. We just stood there, with both of my hands clutching on his arm. My eyes began to sop, sloppy even.
I gulped, trying to stop my tears to gush right out. I looked down, ‘Why do you always seem to run away,’ I hissed, under my breath. My hands shaking as I gripped on his other arm.
At first he didn’t reply, he just turned around and looked down on me. I looked up at him, his eyes were lifeless. Like it seemed to hide something, something he didn’t want me to know.
He raised his arm that I was holding on to, I let go of it with my one hand and left the other still grasping on it, ‘Then let me ask you,’ he started, ogling me over, his voice silent, ‘Why do you always seem to bring me back?’
I froze. What does he mean? I looked down, not knowing what to say and what to do. I kept silent under my toes.
He sighed, ‘Never mind,’ turning away from me.
Does he really hate me?
That much that he’d turn away?
I won’t let him.
I grabbed his shirt, ‘Your arm,’ I breathed, avoiding his eyes.
He looked down at me, ‘What about it?’ as he gestured his bleeding arm, sounding pissed off, impatient, sweet, caring or whatever.
I gulped, ‘Can at least help you?’ I paused, ‘I mean, I was the reason why you got hurt in the first place,’
He looked at me for a moment and turned around, ‘whatever,’ at the same time positioning his arm to signal me to come with him.
Ugh, Zac, I don’t understand you.
I nodded silently. ‘Okay…’
We walked to the canteen silent and awkward. But I got to say, I was happy being there with him. But why does he want me to come with him. Probably because I was the reason he got hurt again. I’m such a mope. I always make Zac feel like this.
I might as well vanish now.
‘Miss,’ I greeted the girl in the counter, ‘Um.. Is there a first aid kit here?’
The sales lady nodded and strolled away for a moment and came back with a white box with a red cross symbol on it. I grabbed it and said thank you.
Zac and I sat down at a canteen table and stared blankly at each other. I smiled at him and he looked down. ‘Go ahead,’ he said, stretching his bruised arm over to me.
I opened the kit and smiled at him, my hands shaking nervously. I took a towel and rubbed it against his injury. He shrugged and tilted his head once in a while every time I pushed the towel lightly against his skin. His eyes were everywhere. He’d stare anywhere as long as it wasn’t me.
When the wound was clean enough without the blood dripping, I took the ointment and stained some on a piece of cotton. ‘This might hurt a little,’ I whispered at him.
He nodded. ‘Ah-uh,’
Then I proceeded. I pushed the ointment against every corners of the wound and did the same routine over and over until it covered the whole wound. I took the plaster and wrapped it around the whole wound. When I finished I smiled at him.
His face was pale. I raised a brow. ‘Zac, you okay?’
He turned to me, ‘Uhh… Yeah,’
I smiled at him and stood up; I brought the kit and returned it back to the container. The lady was I think home at that time so I had to put it in myself. When I returned back to Zac, I sat down beside him.
‘Thanks,’ he uttered, rubbing his neck. ‘About this,’
I looked at him, ‘Don’t mind it,’
Then we fell into a silence where awkwardness fell every place. It seemed like I wasn’t comfortable whenever he’s around. I feel so unconscious. Then he looked up, staring me down. Staring me so blankly his face no expression, no feeling.
He breathed, ‘What happened to us?’
He’s moving away again. Like he’s trying to just forget about everything, like he always do. Why does he always do that? I thought. But I won’t let him get away this time. I won’t let it happen again. The last time I did, I eventually broke myself.
But my muscles just wouldn’t move. They won’t. I can’t let him slip away. But why won’t I move. Just stared at him walking further and further away. Then I saw his arm bleeding, a long cut visible as he moved away.
I stood up and ran towards him, grabbing his other arm, ‘Wait,’ I whispered, voice cracking. He stopped but didn’t bother to look at me. We just stood there, with both of my hands clutching on his arm. My eyes began to sop, sloppy even.
I gulped, trying to stop my tears to gush right out. I looked down, ‘Why do you always seem to run away,’ I hissed, under my breath. My hands shaking as I gripped on his other arm.
At first he didn’t reply, he just turned around and looked down on me. I looked up at him, his eyes were lifeless. Like it seemed to hide something, something he didn’t want me to know.
He raised his arm that I was holding on to, I let go of it with my one hand and left the other still grasping on it, ‘Then let me ask you,’ he started, ogling me over, his voice silent, ‘Why do you always seem to bring me back?’
I froze. What does he mean? I looked down, not knowing what to say and what to do. I kept silent under my toes.
He sighed, ‘Never mind,’ turning away from me.
Does he really hate me?
That much that he’d turn away?
I won’t let him.
I grabbed his shirt, ‘Your arm,’ I breathed, avoiding his eyes.
He looked down at me, ‘What about it?’ as he gestured his bleeding arm, sounding pissed off, impatient, sweet, caring or whatever.
I gulped, ‘Can at least help you?’ I paused, ‘I mean, I was the reason why you got hurt in the first place,’
He looked at me for a moment and turned around, ‘whatever,’ at the same time positioning his arm to signal me to come with him.
Ugh, Zac, I don’t understand you.
I nodded silently. ‘Okay…’
We walked to the canteen silent and awkward. But I got to say, I was happy being there with him. But why does he want me to come with him. Probably because I was the reason he got hurt again. I’m such a mope. I always make Zac feel like this.
I might as well vanish now.
‘Miss,’ I greeted the girl in the counter, ‘Um.. Is there a first aid kit here?’
The sales lady nodded and strolled away for a moment and came back with a white box with a red cross symbol on it. I grabbed it and said thank you.
Zac and I sat down at a canteen table and stared blankly at each other. I smiled at him and he looked down. ‘Go ahead,’ he said, stretching his bruised arm over to me.
I opened the kit and smiled at him, my hands shaking nervously. I took a towel and rubbed it against his injury. He shrugged and tilted his head once in a while every time I pushed the towel lightly against his skin. His eyes were everywhere. He’d stare anywhere as long as it wasn’t me.
When the wound was clean enough without the blood dripping, I took the ointment and stained some on a piece of cotton. ‘This might hurt a little,’ I whispered at him.
He nodded. ‘Ah-uh,’
Then I proceeded. I pushed the ointment against every corners of the wound and did the same routine over and over until it covered the whole wound. I took the plaster and wrapped it around the whole wound. When I finished I smiled at him.
His face was pale. I raised a brow. ‘Zac, you okay?’
He turned to me, ‘Uhh… Yeah,’
I smiled at him and stood up; I brought the kit and returned it back to the container. The lady was I think home at that time so I had to put it in myself. When I returned back to Zac, I sat down beside him.
‘Thanks,’ he uttered, rubbing his neck. ‘About this,’
I looked at him, ‘Don’t mind it,’
Then we fell into a silence where awkwardness fell every place. It seemed like I wasn’t comfortable whenever he’s around. I feel so unconscious. Then he looked up, staring me down. Staring me so blankly his face no expression, no feeling.
He breathed, ‘What happened to us?’