Suicide, Skittles and Skates [✓]

Chapter 07

CHAPTER SEVEN

Alex sat fully clothed in his shower, still trembling from the night-terror he had just had. It was the following morning and it was a good thing there was too much snow for school today; he couldn't have brought himself to go and act normal even if he'd wanted to.

The still air felt almost heavy, as though it was suffocating him. Today was one of those days: the days the sorrow would overwhelm him, the days he was just a shell of his usual self.

The water was on. He'd turned it on to try to wash away the despair lingering around him, but it was no use. His hair was soaked and his pyjamas were well on the way to being in a similar state, but he didn't notice the coldness from it. Alex wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to feel something – agony or sadness or guilt – but there was just nothing.

He was numb.

He looked up from under his tear-stained lashes to stare at the fading scars lining his biceps, observing them as though he'd never seen them before. Some days he would count the neat little marks, like soldiers lining up side by side in preparation for battle. Other times, like today, he would slowly trace them with his fingertips, barely grazing them, as though his skin were too fragile to touch.

He had a love-hate relationship with the barely noticeable scars; he loved the way they felt, twisting and turning in intricate patterns into his skin, but he hated what they represented – the misery that smothered him.

And the weakness.

Alice would throw something at him if she could see him now; probably a frying pan, like in Tangled, a movie she had loved to watch. She would slap him silly, drag him out of there and tell him to stop being stupid and mourning over her. She would twist his ear until he promised to live his life, to feel emotions again, and to laugh and be happy. Always the violent one, his sister. He was absolutely certain she would do all this, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to force happiness.

He sat there for a few hours, completely immersed in his conflicting thoughts. It was only when his stomach rumbled loudly at around noon that he finally stood up and turned the tap off. He stripped off the drenched clothing that was seemingly stuck to his skin and wiped himself dry. Pulling on new boxers and a pair of jeans, he walked to the tiny kitchen. God, I miss Alice's cooking, he thought as he stuck a frozen pizza into the oven.

It was when he had finished chewing mechanically that the doorbell rang, clear against the silence. The sound was so foreign to his ears that it took him a moment to register it. He got up quietly and opened the door, expecting to see the postman or his landlord, but it wasn't either of them.

It was Kalila.

She was wearing a red sweatshirt and black jeans, wrapped up in a scarf, gloves and a matching hat complete with a pompom at the top. It was still snowing outside, although much more slowly now, and he noticed the little flecks that rested on her dark eyelashes. He stared at her for a moment in shock until the fog in his mind cleared a little and he remembered he had given her his address yesterday after school. He hadn't expected her to just turn up so early but the recurring nightmares had made him forget about their project. He shook his head, willing the thoughts to leave so he could pretend to be normal around her, while he tried to smile and let her in.

Kalila looked up at the beautiful boy in front of her, clad only in faded jeans. She tried not to stare at his abs – 'Oh God, Emma would die if she knew I'd seen him shirtless' – and concentrated on his dripping hair instead. It was much darker when wet, exactly like the colour of a chocolate bar if you were to melt it. There was something different about him today and although she couldn't quite put her finger on it, it was as if something were missing.

Instead of dwelling on it, however, she said her hellos and followed him into the flat, looking around slightly as she walked in. The walls were all bare and plain cream, and although it was much cleaner than she would have thought an average teenage boy's place would be, it was as if nobody really lived here.

"So, what do you wanna do?" he asked her, noting the way she was looking around silently. His voice sounded different, even to his own ears, and with the way she looked at him, Alex could tell that the girl in front of him had noticed.

Kalila just blinked up at his six-foot frame. He sounds so lifeless, she thought, before realising that he'd asked her a question. Perhaps she could suggest something to cheer him up. She thought of the way he'd smiled yesterday as they'd walked in the snow, and grinned, an idea coming to mind.

"Where's your room?" she asked, still smiling in excitement. He raised his eyebrows questioningly but pointed to a room ahead, which he then led her to. The walls were lighter here, almost a stark white that reminded Kalila of a hospital, causing her to shudder slightly. She hated hospitals. They brought back too many memories. The bed was unmade and the floor had a few random books on it. On the desk was his camera, the only part of the room that seemed to indicate what sort of person he was.

Under normal circumstances, Kalila wasn't the type of girl to walk into the bedroom of a boy she barely knew and start poking her nose into his business. However, Alex had the same look in his eyes today that he'd had the day he'd tried to jump in front of a train. It was a look she had seen many times in the mirror a few years ago: the look of ultimate agony.

She turned around to see him watching her silently, his expression almost weary, and knew she had to do something to get rid of the pain, at least a little. She walked over to the pine wardrobe in the corner and pulled it open, assessing the clothes hanging up and the few lying there in a pile.

"What the—" he started to say, but changing his mind at the last moment. Right in front of his eyes, Kalila seemed to change. She had a look of determination on her face now, her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration as she pulled some of his clothes out. She walked over to him and handed them to him. "Put these on."

Gone was the soft voice he had become accustomed to; she was more authoritative and seemed to know exactly what she was doing. Although Alex had felt numb ever since the particularly vivid nightmare that had woken him up this morning, he felt a different emotion creeping up on him subtly.

Awe.

As he pulled the warm clothes on and allowed her to drag him by the arm out of the door, he thought back to the day they'd met. Much like when he'd been hiding in the shadows of the rink that first day while watching her ice-skating, there was something so enthralling about her right now. And once again, he couldn't keep his eyes off her.

---

Alex winced as the camera around his neck bounced with his every step, bumping against his chest. Kalila had dragged him outside, careful not to slip on the newly-formed ice as they ran down the street. The snow had set much deeper than it usually did in the city, and so it was eerily quiet. With the roads blocked, all schools and workplaces were closed for the day and nobody other than them seemed to be around.

They walked quickly down winding roads and alleyways until Alex had no clue where they were anymore. He had always thought he knew the whole neighbourhood, especially since he had started those morning walks, but evidently not. He had never been here before.

They were in front of a small pathway which led to an empty park, concealed behind overhanging trees. It was almost as though they were protecting it from the dangers of the outside. Although not many people were out, Alex felt that it wasn't just empty today because of the snow. Somehow the clearing ahead of him gave off an abandoned vibe, as though not many people came here.

It felt empty, and he certainly knew what that felt like.

Kalila stood there, her arm still loosely intertwined with Alex's. She knew she had goose bumps on it, but wasn't sure if it was from the warmth of his touch or from where she was. Her heart clenched tightly as she took in the view ahead of her: Cresthill Park. She hadn't been here in a long time and hadn't even realised that this was where her feet had been taking her.

She stood there and looked up at the place which still slightly haunted her to this day.