January 2nd, Monday
Ansidara lied against the ice cold brick wall. Pins and needles slowly stab into the surface of his skin in a way that tell him what she did was (thankfully) not permanent.
As he sits against the rough wall he listens to the sounds of the house. Beyond the thick wall he hears the voices of girls screaming to one another in harsh voices granted their was the occasional sweet, gentle voice that was to be expected in a home for children.
He closes his eyes in an effort to pinpoint her voice.
Solaforma is always quiet at school, she saves her breath as if it is as precious as money. Although she rarely spoke she had an air to her that felt nearly dominating, or maybe it was the certainty she always carried. She was confident, that much was true but just quiet. He began to wonder why he had even expected her to suddenly be some outgoing extrovert who tore away from her cold persona when anywhere but at school.
He slowly moves his arms keenly aware of every single imaginary pin that stabs deep into his muscles.
"Immobile for less than ten minutes." He reminds himself out loud.
She was so calm as her silk smooth voice reassured him he would be okay. He took the statement as evidence she had done something like this before, but if so then why did it appear she was also surprised. It was almost as if she were unsure how she did it and instinctively reacted, similar to how someone hits your knee and you will automatically kick.
He moves his leg bringing it up just enough so it is bent at a ninety degree angle.
He turns away realizing this was not the only thing abnormal about her. There is also the fact that she hates any form of physical contact but it isn't out of fear of the other party.
At first he wondered if she was just bluffing, putting up a front that she was tough but the moment he stopped her he could tell the truth in her eyes. When he wrapped his large hand around her thin wrist she looked away from him, her eyes filling with cold sharp fear and searing panic. When she looked back to him there was the slightest hint of concern that edged into her voice. Without even trying to read her he could tell what she feared was in fact herself.
She has a secret, she had a past and he wanted to know if it was somehow connected to his. This keen perceptiveness they both shared, this sense of familiarity they both felt. Like they both had a microscopic hole of emptiness in their hearts. One they had experienced for the briefest of moments on the bus when they had broken eye contact.
He knew her for more than just a classmate since seventh grade, he didn't know how but he knew her, yet not this version of her.
He moves his legs to slowly get up with the grace of a newborn stag. He leans against the wall, his cheek pressing against the rough bricks that bite against his tender skin.
The memory of how pure horror and disgust crossed her face when she helped him from falling returned back to him. She was truly disgusted when she caught him, her nose wrinkling, eyes squinting, teeth baring before she covered it with that cruel emotionless mask he was beginning to hate. That cold mask that made him feel like he was looking into the eyes of something that wasn't human.
He dragged himself across the driveway toward the brick wall he had jumped over only fifteen minutes before. At the time it felt as easy as leaping over a hurdle but now he felt like he had to climb a mountain. He releases a soft sigh before pushing his long wavy hair back with his rough fingertips. Fingertips that were callused by carelessness to wear his gloves during football conditioning and weightlifting. His younger brother, who was about the same age as Solaforma, would scold him if he noticed, calling him an idiot yet again.
Ansidara grabbed hold of the brick walls ledge, glancing once at the kitchen window that was empty. He heaved himself onto the rough wall and sat upon the top in the lush greenery for only a second before he saw a young girl pass by the crystal clear window, a smile is plastered onto her olive face as she pays no attention to the boy on the wall. With much more grace then when he climbed up, he leaps down nearly falling onto his backside as he struggles to steady his wobbly legs. Once steady enough he leans his back against the freezing wall, the landing sending signals to his brain's thalamus that told him his legs were still having a delayed response to pain and pressure. He let out another sigh before dragging himself down the houses driveway and onto the off white sidewalk that is lined with huge oak trees.
It is a tedious task as he drags one sleepy foot in front of the other across the icy cement, slowly passing the four story girls home with the pace of a snail. He looks upon the huge well kept green yard that has two old oak trees. On one of the old trees there is a tire swing eroded by time and on the other there is a bench swing that can fit three girls.
He stares at the white swing that slowly drifts through the gentle breeze wondering for half a second if it is fun to live with so many people. Always having someone to talk to, someone to play with, someone to share your childish burdens with.
He turns away walking faster now as he readjusts his feather light backpack that is still slung over one of his shoulders. His shoulder that had barely regained any form of feeling.
'Perhaps I should get picked up.' He thinks looking to the empty black roads that may have not been used in years. He slowly turns his head toward the few houses, each unique in color, shape and size as they line the long street that seem more deserted than inhabited.
People always wonder with curious eyes why did Ansidara Tore ever ride the bus home. He had the money to get his own car, he had the money to have a chauffeur. So why did the son to a highly successful family ride the bus home with the thirty other students who only attended the school based off of scholarships?
The only reason he rode the bus home was because it was his only sense of freedom.
If he had a chaffer they drove him to every destination he desired, thus meaning they would also know his every move. If he had his own car it would have a GPS that updated his parents his every move. Even when he snuck out to parties or went joy riding with friends he knew one of them was constantly telling his butlers or maids just where he was in means of trying to gain his parents favor. This was his only route of truly escaping the constant supervision he was always pressured by. The only way was by walking and public transportation, without any phone or watch. The only electronic he did have that had no tracker was his holo-tab. That tablet was never meant to leave school grounds. It held some compelling black mail on just about every student and teacher at the school. He kept that tablet hidden away from his parents and if they found out he lost something so valuable he would be dead.