The hands of the clock glided lazily and smoothly across the surface of the watch,the leather straps, hand stitched and a bit worn out gave the watch a classy feel. His eyes remained glued to the watch. The breeze from the open window gracefully caressed his soft and supple skin. In the face of the lazy afternoon sun and oppressive heat heads bowed down reluctantly. Some tried to lift them back up with little success.
Even in this lethargic environment, the lecturer talked insistently unphased by the dozens asleep. Still his eyes, my eyes, our eyes remained glued to his watch. His caramel colored skin glowed pleasantly, he was a tone lighter than me; I was more like slightly burnt caramel that was then quickly stirred to... wait I'm digressing.
"Aurora ,"he said, his eyes had not moved an inch, mine had already darted back to his watch. I hesitated in responding, I was thinking about how my name sounded a bit girlish. On happier days I would look back at how people would confuse me with a girl with a smile; it was a testament to my beauty I would say.
I came back from my reverie ,his eyes were on my face. I looked up, Cyan had his eyes on mine. A creepy feeling run along my spine ;his eyes were large but dark and hollow, bags hung below them.
"Oh, yes ?" I grimaced it had come out a awkwardly, it betrayed my ineptitude in certain situations.
"Double suicide? "
"Sure..." I said. I hadn't even thought it through but I felt like it was something I had been waiting for like a longing for a nostalgic moment one enjoyed in a hazy but happy memory.
" Tonight ,"he muttered into my ear while concurrently pointing at the ceiling; he was talking about the school rooftop.
I wondered why someone like him wanted to end their life. The gay thing must be true I guessed. Anyway I didn't care.
I turned to the teacher as she gesticulated animatedly and her chest heaving to and fro. She was talking about our setbook one that was set in a fantasy medieval world filled with racist overtones and trying too hard to be enlightening but wait no that wasn't it what was the book? It remained a mystery at the time.
Her bossom was full and erect with her button down doing little to cover them but I wouldn't stare I had religious foundations; I chuckled at the thought of it. What good would that be when dead. Furthermore I'm sure my reason isn't as grand as what others might have; I had good parents, albeit harsh at times, and they had a stable income but I could tell from a young age my purpose was either too grand for the world or I had none at all. I was not made for this world I felt off. I had nothing to yearn for no reason to live.
The bell rang, I rose up from my seat and walked to the bathroom. The hall was empty but soon it would be full, once the teachers were done extending their lessons . Turning right I went into the toilets. I went into a stall and took out my phone. No new notifications save for the hundreds of reels my "friend " had sent.
The thought that I was leaving the world was a bit overwhelming and in spite of my usual apathy my face felt warm and tears gently washed my visage. It made me feel weak which was a welcome comfort for me it soothed my heart like a really warm hug in the evening as the sun set and you were saying goodbye to an old friend. The day had been fun but all things had to come to an end;it was a good sad a happy sullen mood. It signalled my attachments to this world whilst acknowledging we were parting ways.
I remember when. suicide had first crossed my mind. It was after reading a story where tired villagers worked nonstop they toiled to live another day but for what. Perhaps for their families but why? They did the same thing day and night without rest work then harvest then eat then work again. That was the routine until a man came along to grant them rest he talked of a magical thing. An unbelievable thing. But they gladly accepted it and the hero laid them to rest. The village fell into eternal slumber in their homes, their fields remained empty and soon plants grew, nature flourished and as the hero left to rescue more the sun set on a peaceful people free from work, worry, boredom no more yearning, it was done. Finally the villagers had smiles on their worn out faces, as they floated lazily in the eternal dark free of any constraints not tied down by any thoughts, free.
I woke up I had fallen asleep. My forehead was sweaty my neck and back were killing me and tears seemed to flow endlessly. The silence and dark were horrifying yet calming.
The flight of stairs oppressive but never-ending tried to sway my decision but it had to be done. Shadows danced on the walls and voices called out behind me which seemed to be swallowed by the dark whenever I advanced forth; certainly no turning back.