The important and the not important. It's tough to have priorities. What's unreal is how even though I have billions of options right in front of me, staring at me, it's impossible for me to make one final decision. I can't decide where to go and what to let go. Thundering voices are always around, and in control, hunting me at night, just as if they are a monster under my fluffy princess bed. It's hilarious how as a little kid, I was frightened for monsters under my bed, but little did I knew that the ones out there are even worse. The pink roses next to me are slowly turning black, and the pillows who used to be white and fluffy are transforming to rocks. My hands are no longer in control, and when they are it won't last long. Because I no longer have control of her, controlling my mind, while she hysterically laughs at me.
I have to take action. In the back of my mind I know I'm driving myself crazier each second, by picturing her face every step I take. I let her be in control even though she chose alcohol over me. Taking a mini vacation would be marvelous, I need a break and don't doubt it, I will give it to me. Doing schoolwork and running, the things I do best. Sounds great to me! It's the little things that I can control what keep me lucid, the things I can do best. I wonder what I did in my past life to deserve this one god has thrown me. I know I need to fix everything and that it all starts with me. I am too good for this, and I won't ever be afraid of admitting that I don't deserve more. In the deep of my obscure should, I know I can't do it all, but part of me just wants it so bad that I'm willing to die before admitting I'm not the best at something.
Look good, feel good, play good, the best quote ever invented. I make sure to choose my favorite pair of leggings, the brightest of all headbands and to make an impeccable ponytail. I make sure my sports bra matches my leggings, it’s all about the details for me. I grab the loudest headphones considering that I just want to go outside of this horror of a planet. As I step outside and look at my room, I have to go back a couple of times because I feel somethings are out of place. Change and change, perfections after perfection and still, I feel nothing is right.
As I exit through the front door, just like she did, I don't even bother to say I left. Poor girls, they might catch the pattern and think I left them too. Becky and Abby might be clueless, but Ali is going to pee in her pants when she sees I’m not here playing mom. For an instant, guilt conquers every centimeter of my body, maybe it was wrong of me to just run away, even if it’s for a little while.
But it’s my me time. No one will take that away from me, it’s the time I feel and think the deepest, and no one is stealing that, not even guilt. I feel the urge to try to make up solutions for nonexistent problems, which I’m okay with. As I begin moving my feet faster and faster everything vanishes away. I am training to run in the Olympics, coach says I am once in a generation fast, which I won’t disagree. But I know I have to sprint and resist, before life reaches me. Every second I can feel how my lungs start collapsing and how numb fingers start disconnecting from me. In a matter of seconds, I find myself looking in the icy floor, looking at my own reflection, without being rescued.
“Great,” I shout out loud as I see my ripped leggings and some blood hysterically laughing at me.
Shocker how these terrible things find their way to me. I keep walking towards the only place I know I could find some peace, now that my run was abolished thanks to my clumsiness. Coffee, cookies and warmth, that’s all I want to think about in order prevent losing my mind and be exposed to the entire world. But then again, I start picturing myself holding hands to these people who called themselves parents, the ones I thought would be eternal, in that same spot, smelling the same cookies that I was just about to smell. I guess I just lied to myself once again.
As the smell of fresh cookies conquers my body, I open my wallet to see fifty dollars waiting to be spent. Inner peace comes again, and for some reason, I feel at home, even I’m here, all alone. People say that home is family, and I just learned that’s nothing but the truth the hard way, when it’s too late.
We used to be the stereotypical sports family. The parents who annoyed others because of how loud they shouted. She was the kind of mom on the sideline holding on to the water, and with a hospital in her microscopic purse to give her daughters when they needed. My stepdad was the first in and last out, his absence just feels like a stab in the heart because he wouldn’t have permitted this alcoholic Odyssey to begin. She should be ashamed wherever she is pouring alcohol into her veins and making out with strangers, and who knows, maybe having more children, new ones to abandon.
As I swallow the dark bitter coffee, just how I like it, I feel warmth calming me down without me trying to. That doesn’t last for long though, recently I’ve been in danger of throwing my 1st place GPA through the drain. I refuse to let Alison beat me, so without wasting a single second I open my computer as I feel the absence of everything and nothing at the same time. English, physics or math? Hard choice for me, but English is off my list, I refuse to get depressed. All this nonsense sadness for what? For relating myself to these wrecked characters with miserable lives and that will probably end up in a grave? No thanks, I’d much rather go with the things that can’t go wrong, at least, not for me. So, math and physics it is. I begin doing this thing called thinking rationally for the first time in centuries, which feels decent. I’ll admit I’m also doing a bit of observing, and imagining people’s lives just by observing the movement of their hands. I'll even admit that the more I see through them, the more I secretly wish I was them.
I find it fascinating that I’m clueless about their lives, but I try to read them anyways and somehow, end up knowing every single detail. I wonder what’s waiting for them home. Or should I say who? Maybe their cheating husband or perhaps it could be their royal family, and maybe it could be a dirty old couch. People are tough to read, but I feel I can understand their complexity, even though I’m not even close to comprehending mine. Intrigue gets me, covers don't fool me, I know there are complications deep inside, just like my physics homework in which I wish I was focused right now. But I’m not because I'm taking my role as a detective really seriously.
You know this vibe you get when you feel someone’s staring at you? The fact that you sense how someone’s eyes are directly looking at you even though you haven’t seen them do it yet? It's an odd vibe, it makes you feel uncomfortable, but I don’t find it wrong at all, like who even cares? But not today. Today I can’t stand it, my patience is long gone, it has reached the limit. Without hesitating for a second, I sharply turn around and find a guy staring at me surreptitiously. He isn’t checking me out, I can tell by how his gentle eyes look at me. If he was, it's very likely he would have taken action. Or maybe he is just too coward, I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care at all. To put it in extreme measures he could be my dad, but again, my instincts never fail me.
Mystery transom into annoyance, and know I feel as if I was being raped with just a stare. Without meditating the situation at all, I stand up with my head as high as the empire state building and quickly gasped “Hey, do you need something? Is there something I can help you with?"
The man silently gawks me without even mumbling a single word. He gave me the kind of look you do when you are analyzing something, when the textbook vocab is so complex you have to put more thought into it. He kept staring at me as If I was a piece of complicated, like if I was this uneasy soul that was out of its place, as if I were the kind of art that no one understood. I find it creepy satisfying how I felt special just because of that one stare. He saw what no one saw, he saw something out of the ordinary, someone complex. He was intrigued, I could see it in his wide-open blue eyes, because he was just like me, a complicated creature.
The guy approached me as he exclaimed, “I was just looking at your work and was curious what you high school students are working on.”
I was shocked, I was expecting more I guess. Not in a romantic way, but he appeared to be deeper than that ordinary phrase.
“I’m Alex by the way, my bad for bothering you. But I could tell you’re a smart girl, that work is tough!” he hummed as he took a closer look.
I’m not attracted to him so far, I am certain I’m not. But I’ll have to admit that even though he looks older than me he looks a little too attractive. With my mind being as a white paper, I take a sip of coffee to find some inspiration which gives me time to stay focused and with a teasing voice I say, “I’m Morgan and don’t doubt it, I am.”
When he said that I was agonizing on the inside, that sounded way too egocentric. I’m glad it did.
“Oh, I see. A teenager that trusts her abilities and with an ego in the skies, good for you.” He chuckled. The humor in this guy is something special, I can't wait to find out more.
He started watching me from top to bottom and looking at each one my notes. He studied every little detail and every single inch of me. He is now more intrigued I could bet on it.
Without doubting it for a second I hinted, “Yeah, I trust my instincts, you should too.”
He stared at me and in a matter of seconds, with his eyes wide open and while he bit his lip he replied, “Believe me after I met you I will.”
Now we switched roles, he was more than just an all-black outfit, more than his oversized leather jacket and more than a bad boy appliance, he was more than the cover. I needed to know more. I swallowed my pride as he was walking away and sighed, “What do you do for living?”
He turned around and I could observe how his rosy cheeks vanished away and became pale. I was internally chuckling because he was there taking quick glances at the ceiling not knowing what to answer. He looks way too smart to be a jobless dude, partying all around town.
Alex, being my mystery man (that’s how I internally call him) said, “I’m currently studying engineering at Georgetown University. I live in a nearby apartment and I’m also working with an organization doing some physics stuff.”
Okay Morgan, now is the time to chill I repeated to myself. Now, I know he’s probably not much older than me. Following my inner nerd instincts, I calculated that he could be two to seven years older than me, no big deal. For what I know, he could be checking me out, or maybe no, who knows.
He stood there overshadowing me and asked me if I needed any help. I bet it was just a lame excuse to stay, I feel he wants to. By the way his eyes are so focused on mine, he isn't hiding the fact he needs more of me. The intimidation and annoyance vanished away for just second because of him, but then again, I recall my hideous life and smile as I think about how my life just became a mystery book. That gave me warmth and vision, maybe, after all, peace was hidden in his pockets.
I don’t receive help from anyone, that’s just a fact for me and my pride. But I needed his help, I needed to know more about and his twisty secrets were behind him. I now have a clear view of what he saw in me, an unresolved mystery.
I declared how I would allow him to with one simple condition. He is flattered, I could tell just by his looks. It sounds flirtier than I would’ve liked to, but what's done is done.
I mumbled, “What type of organization?”
I freaked him out, great. He was smiling, but not a single word escaped from his mouth. Guys ignoring me, that’s new. I just stood there without moving but moving at the same time, just like these trees you see in the jungles as I waited for the unexpected to happen.
“That’s for me to know and for you to wonder,” he evilly exclaimed.
“What an arrogant human being,” that’s all I wanted to say, but didn’t. Until I couldn’t take it any longer, and did. It was vital for him to tell me more about him, but sounding nosy in front of a guy is out of my dictionary, I need to find a way to answers that don't require asking. He was so typical, but so complex that he got me thinking more than I ever have. He is a hard book to read, I can't tell where he is from, his Accent is unrecognizable, he looks like the stereotypical bad boy and there. I saw in him what I’ve never seen before, and I am not planning on letting this one pass. Reading this book is part of my plans, and I can't wait to start.
The sky got darker, the air got colder, and the work got easier. Time flew past us, and homework became having a blast.