365 Days.

Instead,
I simply sit there and stare into the distance,
my eyes screaming at me to close,
for they are tired of seeing.
My mind tells me to just zone out,
my ears are tired of listening,
and my mouth is tired of apologizing.

Apologizing.
To Chase.
For being ‘away and ignoring him’ for a few days.

I draw a small stick figure in my book with a funky haircut,
and add a little kitten beside it.
Then another stick figure in a dress,
looking at the first stick figure boy with care and compassion.

For effect,
I put a little sun in the corner.
A smiling sun.
It makes me smile too.

“And then she was all like-
dude, are you even listening?
Yo,
earth to colourful hair!”
Chase points at the smiling sun on my page,
“The fuck is that?”

“A sun.”
Obviously!

“A sun?
Why the hell is it smiling then?”

I swear,
he has no imagination whatsoever.
I want to shoot myself.
“It’s a happy sun.”

“The fuck?”

I close my book and push it to the side,
“Forget it.”

Chase looks at me with a raised brow,
“I worry for you sometimes,”
he says,
his voice rather serious.

“Don’t we all,”
I murmur back,
more to myself than for him to hear,
and look away.

Chase ruffles my hair,
takes me by the waist,
moves me to sit on his lap.
“You ought to relax sometimes,
colourful hair.”
His hand slides down my chest,
the other tangling it’s fingers into my hair.
His lips brush my neck.

“Chase,”
I try to pull away,
but find myself trapped in his grasp.

Chase brushes his lips against my jaw,
a small nip.
His hands aren’t being nice either.
The one in my hair only tightens it’s grip,
while the travelling one fiddles with the zipper of my jeans.

“Stop,”
I put both hands on his chest and push away,
intending to create space between us,
and instead,
somehow end up falling onto the ground,
hitting my head on the floor.

Chase looks down at me,
his face expressionless.
He smirks a little then,
“Don’t worry,
I’ll get you,
one day.”

I watch him leave the class,
heart pounding.

What?