Gashes and Wounds

I woke up in extreme pain. The wound had been tended to, but the body was still recovering. I turned my mobile on, expecting texts from Victor. Texts apologizing for his horrible behavior. Empty. Maybe he hadn't woken up yet, I told myself.

I put my jacket on and go out, everyone was already awake. The place was bustling with excitement. I look at Hilda, she was with Stella. I see Victor with them, laughing. I was very surprised. He had been awake, but he did not bother to text or call. He sees me and walks away. I was pissed. Wasn't it me who was supposed to be sulking? I got hurt in the process of running away from him while he was celebrating with everyone. Hilda did not know about his actions yet.

I march up-to her and pull her aside.

"We need to talk." I whisper.

"Not now, in the bus maybe? Stella and I are taking some selfies."

"Sure." I say and give a dirty look to her.

While I walk back, I bump into Victor. We have a brief eye contact, till my hand starts hurting again. I cry a little, Victor doesn't budge. He just walked away. In that moment, I realized. He did not care about me.

I run towards him and turn him around gathering all the strength I had. He was one heavily built guy.

"I need my diary back." I scream at him.

Everyone around turns and looks at us.

He laughs nervously, "I will, I thought it was mine." He says for everyone to hear, "I'll give it today in the evening, please don't create a scene here Malitz." He whispers and glares at me. I look at everyone and smile. I don't think I ever faked a smile as fake as this one.

"I will make sure everyone knows what you did Victor. Unless my diary reaches me tonight."

He smiles and walks away.

I decided to wait until tonight to tell Hilda about what was going on.

I get home and tend to my wounds. I dress it up again after a long shower. I felt so dirty. Tears roll down my cheek in the shower. I hug myself and cry harder. It hurt. For a while there, I let myself think that Victor Gibson would actually like me back.

I dry myself and get into warm clothes. It was raining outside. I get into the fort and open my diary.

It had been a while I had written to Adam. Although he would never read this, it felt like whatever I wrote in this diary would reach him. Adam was always kind yet the strongest, most independent person I knew. Being with him, being loved by him and learning to get stronger through him, were the things I cherished the most. If it wasn't for that accident, he would have been here with me.

Most days I failed to get through, I'd come home and cry. Most people would stop me from crying but Adam, he always let me cry. He'd hug me and pat my back; tell me it was okay. I'd stop, then cry after a while again. He never got angry, he never complained or told me how weak I was. If anything, he helped me calm down by being there. He was the only person who knew the trick to calm me down. All you have to do is let me be.

It was so easy to be with Adam.

'I can never find anyone like him' I think to myself and heave a sigh.

I open my file and take out my notebook. I liked to be very organized. I always believed that cute stationery acted as a catalyst to being organized and the ideas just flowed thereafter. I had been working on this story for a few months now, ideas kept popping up and I was letting them take their own course. It was exciting. It was like one of those abstract paintings people do, you have a drop of paint and you take a straw and blow the paint through it. The straw pushes the paint in different directions. Some people would think that it's always better to have a clear idea in mind before proceeding with something as big as a story. Sometimes, I was scared of my own thoughts. They were too much. So, letting the story take its course, changing directions everyday seemed okay to me. I knew the outcome would be beautiful. In the process of getting to the outcome, I would grow.

"I'll be there in 30 minutes" I read Victor's text when my phone beeped.

I quickly change my clothes and grab my hoodie. He better have the diary or he'd regret it. Getting on my side, wasn't a good idea.