Awakening

~Callum~

"The willow tree symbolizes flexibility and adaptivity. A big part of your purpose in this world is to learn, grow, and evolve through challenging times of adversity. Just like the willow tree, you too are capable of bending in incredible ways without snapping."

I was sitting in Bryce's car, staring out of the window as we headed back to my house, trying to think of anything to distract me from the tension I felt as a kind of thrumming energy pulsated through my body. I'd had this anxious, jittery feeling since this morning, just before Bryce, Emma, John and I made plans to meet up for lunch and had hoped that I was just excited for the gang to be back together for the first time in a year. Seeing my friends all together was great, but honestly I was so distracted by the bees that somehow nested in my chest and set my whole body abuzz. I came to terms with the fact that I have feelings for my best friend shortly after my sixteenth birthday. I've never had feelings for anyone before, boy or girl, so it was a scary ordeal for me. Over the past year and a half, the feelings have grown exponentially, and every time I see him, it's like I have everything I want right in front of me. This morning, I thought maybe that was the source of my jitters, but it happened in situations that had nothing to do with Bryce, too, like when I was sad, or angry. The stronger the emotion, the worse the jitters.

I HATE the jitters. To hell with them! They make me feel like I'm unstable; like I'm starting to fall apart. It's as if there's too much energy in my body; too many buzzing bees. I have to figure out why I was feeling like this and make it stop before I go absolutely insane, and I am gonna start with Bryce. I'll get everything there is off of my chest until I find out what is doing this to me. This has to end.

I would be lying to myself if I said this would be easy. I was terrified. Terrified that he would look at me differently; that our friendship wouldn't be able to survive this. Bryce is the one person that I trust with everything, and if he couldn't accept me like this, then I don't know what I'm going to do. If bearing the last piece of my soul to him ruined it all… the only option I can see would be to move far, far away. I won't be able to see him, or think about him, really, without being reminded of the fact that our ruined friendship is my fault. I had no college plans except Bryce and I going to Briar Rose University with Emma. What will I do with my life? I refuse to just chill with mom forever.

Thinking of the painful possibilities, the buzzing within intensified and my resolve began to slip. My eyes began to burn and I knew that if I didn't get my shit together, I'd likely start crying. At that point, there'd be no avoiding the crazy conversation with Bryce about everything that's been going on. He'd probably pull over and make me talk about it right now, and knowing Bryce, he wouldn't go on until he was convinced that I'd told him everything. Talking about the buzzing, and my feelings, on top of any minor inconvenience in my life that he would undoubtedly make me talk about in an effort to make sure all bases were covered? No. No crying allowed. Instead, I closed my eyes and opened my mind to anything to distract me, anything at all.

'Jasura dherobu. Numaunomo, sifra vimjhiki.' The words sprinted to the forefront of my mind where they repeated themselves again and again, just as my mother had repeated them throughout my childhood. It was an old saying passed down through our family from some old person long gone that meant, "Brave the storm. I am bent, not broken" in the original language of my ancestors, a language that hasn't been regularly used in my family for generations. I'm not sure why the words are important, but my mom made sure that I knew them as a kid. For the last few weeks, I've been finding myself thinking about them at random. I've been zoning out and when I become aware of what's in front of me again, the words are still there, lingering in the back of my mind. Sometimes I'll be scribbling them into a notepad, or typing them repeatedly on my phone. I tried to push them aside, but they seemed to be as stubborn as I am. Ever persistent they were, leaving me oftentimes unable to think about much else. I wonder what they really mean. Why can't I stop thinking about it now, after all this time?

I opened my eyes to try finding something in the world outside this car, hopefully more distracting than a couple words I knew like the back of my hand, and saw two water droplets on my window. I considered it odd, seeing as it hasn't rained today. I hadn't noticed any puddles that a vehicle in front of us could've splashed us with. The buzzing inside my chest increased once more, ever so slightly, and my breath caught in my throat as I watched more water droplets slide down the glass in swirling, unnatural paths and join into a singular circular puddle about the size of a half dollar coin. Bryce slowed a little to make a turn, and as he did, I caught sight of our favorite morning hangout, "Elle's", within the confines of this watery looking glass. We'd normally grab a coffee and a pastry on the way to school, and had been such loyal customers over the years that the owners were more like friends than employees at this point. So many memories had been made in that coffee shop, and on its front patio. Suddenly, one of my favorites sprang forward and I became lost in thought as it coursed through my consciousness.

*The sun shone brightly, bathing his auburn hair in those golden early morning rays, setting copper highlights afire. The spring semester of our junior year had just started and the snow was frequently thawing and refreezing while nature decided on what it wanted to do, so Bryce wasn't allowed to drive us like normal. We'd left early to stop at Elle's, and were now standing on the front patio, reluctant to make the rest of the walk up to campus. Our breath was visible as we exhaled the frosty air. Bryce took a large gulp of his hot latte and turned to me, a big ole' foam-stache on his lip. "Careful, you'll waste it all and end up with a sticky, frozen lip if you're not careful," I joked.

"Aww," he jested, "you do care about my lips."

Without my consent, my arm lifted itself up and I watched as my hand wiped the foam from his lip. The moment got a little tense after a second, so I did the first thing that came to mind. I poked his nose with a "Boop!" and said, "No, I just don't wanna hear you complaining about sticky chapped lips later."

The tension dissipated soon after, and we finished the trek to school. His image burned into the forefront of my mind the whole way; fiery hair and viridian eyes streaked with emerald as the sun shone through them from the side. Walking beside him, I realized that maybe I did care about his lips. As I assessed the mental image once more I felt an odd sensation in my stomach, like the bees had softened into butterflies and they fluttered inside of me. The edges of my vision began to blur, creeping farther inward until it was hard to see anything at all. As the blur enveloped everything, the few colors I could make out began to change before everything sharpened, and right in the middle of the blur, sat… *

… a garden gnome?

I blinked rapidly until my eyes righted themselves and confirmed that it in fact was a gnome. Looking around, I soon identified it as one of my mothers many little decorations, which meant that I was home. I looked over at Bryce as he unbuckled his seatbelt and I followed suit, hoping that I didn't look as nervous as I felt. We walked around the side of the house and through the front door , and while I made a bee-line for the stairs and the safety of my room, I was stopped by Bryce's persistent need to be perfect. He stopped in the entryway of the kitchen, peeking around the corner and into the living room, and proceeded to strike up a conversation with my mother. I didn't get why he had to go talk to her all the time, he's here so often that he basically has his own closet of just-in-case clothes. He might as well live here part time. But I knew that he was going to do it anyway, so I stood on the third step and waited. But after listening to their light hearted banter for all of 23 seconds, the urge to scream grew too strong and I cut in.

"Alrighty. Enough of the pleasantries, y'all act like he's not here every other day. We're gonna be in my room. Holler if you need anything, ma." We bounded up the stairs, because let's face it, one at a time is for losers. Turning the corner and entering my room, Bryce immediately went to set up Mario Kart, while my feet were rooted to the floor in the center of the room. My limbs quivered with nerves, and a sweat started to break out on my forehead. 'It's now or never, Cal,' I thought to myself. I took a deep, steadying breath and focused on the words in my mind. 'Jasura dherobu. Jasura dherobu... Here goes nothing…'

"So, you were right," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I didn't ask you over to avoid chores. She'd just make you help anyway, since you're basically her other kid."

"Right… So what's up, man?" he asked, "You know you can tell me anything."

"Yea…" I started just as a fresh wave of fear washed over me. The buzzing inside me kicked it up a notch and I began to shake. My body was barely holding whatever this was in, and I could all but feel my skin stretching in an attempt to contain this growing energy. What is this?! I've got to get this out; it hurts. It hurts so bad! Rip the bandaid, Cal. Rip it right the fuck off.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," I said. "At Rio V's… I know I said that it's not for you to know, but I think it's about time I told you. I-"

"Please tell me you're not fucking my sister," Bryce interjected. "Because if you are I don't wanna know, and I don't need to know." I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that that was the 'horrible' conclusion he jumped to. With a fresh, although tiny burst of confidence, I pressed on.

"No, I'm not messing around with Mikaela," I reassured. "It's just that we've been friends for so long and you said that I could tell you anything and-" I almost choked as the buzzing intensified yet again and I could now feel it in my throat, attempting to escape. I swallowed hard to push it down long enough to get this out. With a deep breath, I continued, "I want to tell you because I know that you'd do it for me, and I'm tired of holding this by myself."

Although I couldn't bring myself to look at him, I saw in my periphery that he was staring at his hands, jade eyes filled with concern. I felt kind of pathetic as I felt that familiar burn in my eyes; tears welling up in the brim of my eyelids, and I knew that Bryce would see them too if he looked. Can't back out of this now. Spit it out and get this nightmare over with.

"I didn't tell y'all who I liked because I was scared that you would look at me differently if you knew that… well, that it wasn't a girl.'' It was then that his eyes snapped up to bore into mine, empathy radiating through them. He knew that this was hard for me to admit, and if he felt some kind of way about, it didn't show. He put his hand on my shoulder and applied the tiniest pressure, pulling me to him. I conceded, lay my head on his shoulder and tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to wrack my body.

"I'm proud of you for finding the courage to tell me," he said in a calming voice, barely more than a whisper. "It doesn't change anything. I love you all the same." And that fucking did it. The tears that had started to slip now freely streamed down my face and soaked into his shirt, dark puddles forming in the fabric. The sobs I'd caged within my body now burst free, jostling my body as I leaned into him. As all of my emotion poured out, relief sang through me. He accepted me! I wouldn't have to move and throw away a future that had been created years ago. I got to keep my best friend. The biggest parts of me were elated, but there was a part of me that knew this was over just yet- a part I promptly ignored.

We sat there for a while, taking comfort in the quiet that ensued once my sobs reduced to sniffles. I thought about sitting up, but quickly tossed the idea out. I was reluctant to relinquish the comfort and solace I found in the warmth of his body, for I knew that as soon as it was gone, so would be the courage to tell him the rest. I've taken a big first step, but I'm not finished. I took a few moments to prepare myself; to steel my nerves, and as I sucked in a deep breath to tell him the rest, he saved me. Thank. God.

"Don't tell her I told you this," he said suddenly, "but Mikaela is bi. So, if you feel like you need to confide in someone who will understand, I know she'd be happy to help you through things. I might not know much, but I will always be a safe space for you if you need anything. My ears are always open… well, unless you're my mom asking about dishes." Typical Bryce, always trying to throw in a joke somewhere. I chuckled a little and nodded my against his shoulder, not yet trusting my voice to refrain from wavering. I sat up to wipe my face, cringing a bit when I noticed how stiff my body had become. I swallowed the lump in my throat and again readied myself to the inevitable, just for him to speak up again.

"So…" he said, "who's the lucky guy?"

Well shit. No pushing it off now. Here goes nothing

"Well, he uh…" I paused and sniffed mightily, relocating the mucus that had started to flow while I cried to a place where it was less likely to run out of my nose and into public view. "I've known him for a while now… And our parents are friends. We umm… we used to go camping every summer and sometimes on the weekends." The memory played like a miniature movie in my mind, and I began to feel that familiar thudding in my chest. "When I was thirteen, we went camping and a snow worthy cold blew in and we kinda cuddled to stay warm. I think that's when I started to realize that I had more than friendly feelings for him, but I didn't come to terms with it until much later," I rambled timidly. My mind reeled as I desperately thought of a back up story in the event that he didn't hear me through the rambles and I could change my answer. Please don't hate me, please don't hate me.

I stole a glance of him out of the corner of my eye. He sat there in silence, mouth agape, ears almost as red as his hair, and eyes staring disbelievingly at the carpet. Unable to turn and look him in the eye, I focused on the polyester patterns of blue and white that weaved their way across the rug in front of my feet. My breath- held. My muscles- clenched. My eyes- refilling with salty tears. I need him to be ok with it, even if it isn't reciprocated. If he can accept me for who I am, but this is what fucks it up, my world just might collapse. The suspense of waiting for his response was already painful. The buzzing inside of me continued to build until it felt like it was pushing my bones outward in an attempt to make more room.

"So now you know," I breathed, "I hope this doesn't change anything between… us." I clasped my hands together to keep them from shaking. Surprise, that didn't help. Say something, please…

Without enough air in my lungs, and without much thought, the words tumbled out against my will, chasing my thoughts. "Please, say something, Bryce…" I closed my eyes in a silent cringe as my voice wavered and broke when I said his name. I was squeezing my hands together hard enough that I'm sure my knuckles were white. I couldn't see them though, so it was of no current concern to me. I heard him exhale, but it sounded like more of a sigh. My brain loves thinking up worst case scenarios, and tonight was no different.

The Bryce in my head sighed and said, "I'm disappointed." The pang in my chest felt like a knife tearing its way through me. I started to reply, but he held up a hand to stop me. "Don't," he said, "you'll just make it worse" And with that, he left me to sit in silence and stew in my sadness.

"I-I'm…" he sputtered. My eyes snapped open, fearing I'd somehow foretold the future. After a long moment held midair with bated breath, his lungs resumed functioning properly, and a second later, so did mine. His lungs were working hard, sucking in and expelling the air rapidly, on the verge of hyperventilation. I'm not exactly sure that I know what this means, but I do know that he isn't going to be handling this as easy as the gay part. I braced myself for the worst, and prayed for anything but.

He suddenly stood and headed towards the door, "I need some air. I'll be back," he said. I started to stand and follow but my legs suddenly lacked the ability to support my weight. I didn't want him to leave. I needed him to stay. We could talk it out and fix things before everything falls apart. He's my best friend, my rock, my number one. We've always been there for each other. He's the one place that I've always felt nothing but warmth and comfort no matter how cold or rough the times were. He's one of the very few constants I had, the one that I've always been able to turn to. Bryce felt like home. And now, home was leaving me.

As the momentum from attempting to stand and follow him out the door carried me forward and gravity pulled me down, I started to fall. In the meager time that passed as I sank through the air, two things happened. First was that the buzzing inside me intensified until it seemed to spark and burst into flame. Second, the flames that scorched my insides ignited the cloud of emotion that permeated throughout my body. As my knees struck the floor, I was able to pull through the cloudiness in my mind just enough to quietly croak out, "Please, don't go."

I knew it was too late; the words had barely come out at all and when they had, the only part of him still visible was his fingers on the door frame as he turned down the hall. As I continued to fall, I mustered the will to catch myself at the last moment. My hands hit the floor, and all of the pain within me burst forth. It felt like a small bomb went off inside of me, obliterating all of my organs. I clutched at my chest, unable to breathe. Several long moments went by as I knelt in agony. Each moment longer than the last. My frantic heartbeat pounded in my ears as I opened my eyes, both of them brimming with tears. My mouth hung open in a silent, breathless scream. A tear slid down my nose and as I watched the shining droplet fall to the floor, the fire inside me and the cool air outside exchanged places. As the two passed through my skin, a chill crept down the length of my body leaving goosebumps as they went.

The teardrop stuck the floor, and a cooling sensation soothed the inner burns. It felt like frigid water rushed around inside of me. My chest no longer hurt as bad; the unbearable burning simmered down to a dull ache. I blinked in confusion, but when I refocused my eyes, the world around me was altogether anew. The first thing that I noticed was the intensity of the colors around me. Looking down, the blue in the rug beneath me seemed to shine with a light from within. My eyes raced around the room as I stood, drinking in the colors and hues before me. Everything seemed sharper and more defined, but the blues were alive. It's like the fire that had raged in me now lit up the different shades of blue from inside.

Along with the heightened sense of blue-sensitive sight, my nose tingled with scents that didn't belong with my surroundings. I inhaled deeply through my nose and detected notes of lemon and lavender, as well as a faint hint of petrichor and wet pine. The only lemon scented item in the house was a single candle in the downstairs bathroom. Mom is allergic to citrus fruits and she can't eat them, but she loves the smell of them. Something about acidic sweetness, she'd said. And lavender? Other than the scented bubble bath soap and the coffee flavoring syrup in the cabinet, I don't think there's any lavender around. And besides, the candle and bubble bath both are across the house and too far away for that to be the source.

I walked over to the window and looked up at the sky. It was starting to get dark, but it was still light enough to see that there were no clouds to explain the petrichor and wet pine. These aromas were as pungent as if they'd been just under my nose. The pictures and posters on the walls, the couple of blue shirts in my closet, the rug, and anything else with blue on it shone with an unexplainable brilliance. Had I fallen hard enough that I forgot I hit my head? I didn't feel any pain aside from the dull ache in my chest. If I hit my head, it wasn't hard enough to feel any remnants of the sensation. Therefore it couldn't have knocked the memory from my mind. I caught myself, of that I was certain.

A static-ridden ringing sound not unlike the buzzing bees entered my ears, growing in intensity until it sounded like it was actually within the confines of my skull. Suddenly, the ringtone for text messages on my phone went off, and the sound startled me. I flinched in surprise; the 'DIIING' was so loud that it was as if someone had played it through a megaphone right next to my head. Perplexed, I walked over to the nightstand by my bed and picked up my phone. As my face ID registered and the phone unlocked, I was distracted by a wet crunching that I couldn't place. Nothing in here should be making that noise. Was it downstairs, like the smells? I looked up and turned my head, looking around the room. When I was facing the door, I noticed that the sound got ever so slightly louder in my right ear. Turning back towards the window, I then saw the source of the off crunch. A squirrel sat upon a branch eating what looked like an acorn about twenty feet from me. I smiled at the cute little fellow, and he stared back at me.

Step..

Step…

Creeeaaakkkk…. SLAM!

The sound of the front door jarred me from my thoughts. No other sounds followed other than those of my mother rummaging for her favorite spatula. He left… It was all too much for him. I made him leave. If I had just been stronger and kept it to myself, he wouldn't have left. I set out on this endeavor to rid myself of the pain, and instead I've only made it worse. Just as I feared, I have ruined it all.

Thoughts raced about, unflinchingly malicious in their carving of the truth into my mind. The fog of emotion once more swept all reason aside, leaving me in despair. In the blink of an eye, the blue objects around me surrendered their hidden fire and I felt all of the energy come crashing back into my body, knocking the breath from my lungs. My ears rang as the sensitivity of the drums within changed. My vision acquired a slight blur around the edges of objects as my eyes refocused. It came at me from all directions simultaneously, leaving my nowhere to go but downward. My body crumpled to the ground where I writhed in anguish. The flames made all new burns from the surface of my skin all the way down. It felt as though the invisible inferno scorched my bones themselves.

Unable to call for help due to lack of air, I thrust my arms out reaching for anything that could help me. The only thing I managed to get my hands on was a bedpost. I squeezed it with all the strength I could muster, willing myself to take up a similar disposition; solid and stable. Desperate for relief, I pulled as much of myself together as I could and threw everything I had into a single thought:

"STOP!" I screamed internally. With only the sheer force of will on my side, I struggled to contain this blinding pain. Wrestling with writhing flames was tiring work and my mind began to darken; I was losing this battle. I focused on the cool feeling of water flowing over my skin and threw everything that I had into extinguishing the flames once more. I suddenly felt a presence in my mind, like a light chasing away the long, dark shadows. A cool rush enveloped my limbs as the fire was smothered. Finally able to release the tension I held in my body, I opened my eyes and looked to the left, searching for the savior that my mind told me was there.

I stood slowly, and when my eyes lay upon what I sensed, I jumped back in surprise. Floating in the air was a swirling ball of water. I've officially gone crazy, I thought. My senses are tweaking, searing bodily pain, and now full on hallucinating. I've gotta get help.

As I willed my feet to move, I turned my head towards the door. There stood my mother, glaring at the water suspended over a pile of clothes. Her expression held no signs of panic, or even surprise, but subtle notes of frustration and unease. A crinkle in the corner of her eye accentuated the set of them, and made note of the wistful sadness within. It was then that she turned her eyes upon me, and all forlorn shadows disappeared. In their stead, a fierce gleam shown, lighting her emerald eyes with specks of gold.

She lunged forward, stretching her arm out towards me. As I took that first step, my knee buckled and gave way beneath me, but my mother was faster than she looked. She caught me in her arms and lowered me to the bed where I lay back, all of the energy in my body drained. As I looked up at her, trying to ask her what was going on, the edges of my vision began to blur. Complete sentences were beyond my grasp in my current state, and all I was able to get out was "-fu… go on." My mind grew hazy in my confusion, my vision dimmed, and off I drifted, floating in the womb of a boundless black space illuminated only by the fading light just behind what was once my mothers head; what now appeared to be nothing but a blurry mass of color. The blur where her lips should be moved as if she was trying to say something, but all that fell upon my near-deaf ears were entangled whispers as I succumbed to exhaustion.