Where Do We Go From Here?

I was on the plane to New York; stone faced and almost robotic.

These past few weeks felt like hell; if only hell could be compared to being in an ocean that refused drown me. It was like being dragged through the undertow, slowly feeling your breath being stripped from you, but the suffering wouldn’t end, so you’re stuck gasping for air but to no end you don’t get it. Clawing for a break, for some form of mercy, but you never get it. The pain was endless.

I was submerged in the wake of mines and Tony’s breakup only to find that he seemed okay with it. It was like nothing even happened, everything went back to normal. Whenever I’d pass him in the halls at school, he’d look perfectly fine. He was smiling and laughing with Mike and Austin that I couldn’t even stomach it. At first I thought that he wanted a secret relationship that would be hidden from everyone, but apparently that wasn’t the case. Tony told me that he needed space. Soon enough his space turned me into a complete stranger in his eyes. He wouldn’t smile at me, he wouldn’t acknowledge me, there was nothing. Even in art class he would sit at another table, leaving me to be by myself while silently pining for him.

The rumors were incessant as well. Speculations of mines and Tony’s relationship going astray made my moving on process so much harder. People would either offer me sympathetic expressions out of pity or knowing smirks that conveyed that I had it coming. I was in an endless parade of being reminded that Tony and I wouldn’t have lasted.

It wasn’t long until I grew to hate Tony Perry altogether. I hated him because he ruined Lord of the Rings for me and V for Vendetta and The Looking Glass. I glanced at these things—which I used to love and admire—with disgust because all I could think about was him. I no longer can watch the adventures to Mordor or the valorous act of blowing up Parliament. I couldn’t even enjoy the star-crossed love of Harper and James. They were tainted with my hatred for Tony Perry. Soon enough, my hate burned bright and sizzled out before leaving me numb. I didn’t go out anymore unless it was to work or school or to visit Ronnie. In fact, I hardly left my room. My bedroom walls were my only comfort, my only friend that soon enough my parents rolled out the concern wagon.

After my fight with my parent’s, I grew distant with them. I only ever spoke to them if it was pertinent, which for the most part nothing ever was. There were a few times they’ve tried to approach me while wearing hesitant yet warm smiles. I wouldn’t return the gesture though. I remained impassive while barely tuning into what they had to say to me. Most times my parent’s would grow irritated with me and say that I’m acting immature, but I’d brush the comments off with a shrug before going back to ignoring them. I would only speak to Callie, Veronica, and on occasion to Jason. Other than that, I’d ignore everyone else—well, except for the people I worked with, of course. Charlie and Bliss—my co-workers—saw my fake smiles and my forced pleasant personality. However, they didn’t have a problem with it since Callie gave them a concise explanation as to why I’ve been moodier than usual.

Within these past few weeks—three weeks and two days to be exact—I found out I was accepted into both Columbia and Dartmouth—Princeton still hadn’t sent out their letters. I, of course, sent in my reply to Columbia in which they gladly sent back a welcoming package that came equipped with a hoodie and some pamphlets about making the right class choices. Ronnie has been showing some improvement, gaining three pounds which was still a little worrisome in her eyes, but she no longer detested her breakfast and dinner. Lunch was still a tough one for her to accept. Callie was still dating Mike, in which he’d occasionally have lunch with us, but for the most part I’d skip it and went to the library to hide out.

“Would you like some peanuts?” The stewardess asked me in a kind voice.

I shook my head no before plugging my earphones in. I just wanted to block everything out. I pulled out the pamphlet that came with the Columbia Campus Tour and flipped through it. I had two other books packed with me, but I wasn’t in the mood to read just yet.

The pamphlet—which featured pictures of happy students and professors—used phrases like broadening your horizons and sculpting your mind for the future. I felt an odd sense of resentment for those phrases because my horizons were darkened by my eternal night and I can no longer sculpt my future because it feels like my slab of marble had been blown to smithereens. I grimaced before stuffing the pamphlet into my carry-on bag then pulled out my copy of Forgotten Pieces—the newest book from Hubert Finnegan. It was supposedly about a girl who loses herself due to a long and strenuous battle with cancer. The reviews all said that this story is far more cynical and sadder than The Looking Glass which gives me some relief since I wasn’t in the mood for happy stories. I was cynical from my failed attempts at love.

After six hours and two flight changes, we skidded to a stop at JFK airport. I finally turned my cell phone back on to find that I had only two messages and three missed calls. The texts were from Callie while the missed calls were from my parents. I had hoped that maybe, just maybe Tony would contact me but it’s been radio silence since Halloween.

I texted Callie back, saying that I was alive and well. Then glancing at my parent’s numbers, I chose to ignore them and go down to baggage claim. I was a little excited to finally meet Lori, since she volunteered to pick me up from the airport. After grabbing my black rolling bag from the trolley, I ventured to the exit where I saw Lori with a makeshift sign saying VERITY ABRAHAM in very bold, black letters.

Lori was just as I imagined: a short, red head with a sprinkle of freckles that were peppered across her cheeks and nose. She was practically bouncing with excitement when she spotted me in the crowd. Waving her hands animatedly, Lori pulled me in for a hug and said “Welcome to New York!”

I forced a convincing smile. “It’s so beautiful here.” It was half a lie because New York was currently covered with a coat of smog along with it being overcast.

Lori giggled. “Believe me, it gets better. Winter time is quite magical once you get past the cold.”

In all honesty, I was already cold. “I can’t believe I’m here.” I forced out.

“Me neither.” She smiled broadly. “C’mon, let’s get you back to campus.”

I smiled while following her to her car. Lori helped me with my bag. We came across a mustang; it looked like a refurbished model from the 70’s.

“Nice car.” I commented.

“Thanks! It’s a gift from my father.” She explained before we piled into her car.

She purposely played Thrice on our way to Columbia’s campus. We passed through the beauty of New York which made me smile. This place was exactly what I needed to forget about my troubles; a change of scenery never hurt anyone.

Notes

So I might have given the misleading impression that last chapter was the last chapter, but to assure you guys it wasn't. I will be continuing this story under this title until I feel that I can end it. The sequel is still indefinite because this portion hasn't come to an end. I'll keep you posted though :D

Expect another update today!

Thanks for reading and all of your comments encourage me to update quickly <3