Little Miss Babysitter

-- 23 --

The silence was moderately deafening.

I could hear my blood moving inside my veins, like little prickly shards of glass, making swift relays from artery to artery.

The hours had seemed endless, wondering possibly how my heart had come to decay to the point where I could feel nothing in a simple matter of days. Frightening, it was, in the sense that I had been broken so easily when I thought my protective barrier of my inner self walls could have somewhat guarded me from such an intrusive attack.

Believe me. I thought this more than anyone, but I never for one instant thought that the one to break them down was sure to be him.

Who needs sleep when you have an endless stream of thoughts, all pertaining to the deadliest subject that you've so dreaded to discuss?

My eyes flitted shut at four second intervals, only catching glimpses of the pudgy lunch ladies that were tucking their hair nets into their collars. Pasty smiles were scribbled on their overly punctuated lips, and each time my eyes landed on them, a nasty chill zig-zagged down my spine.

I stared blankly down at my grayish iron tray; a heap of powdery brown dust on the left, an odorless, tasteless chicken on the right, and a carton of milk. To top it all off, for desert, I was rewarded the luxury of an overly salted, crumbling brownie that was a little on the orange-brown side.

As the school newspaper once said, 'Only the finest, foreign cuisine.'

It is foreign all right.

I poked my spoon through my tasteless garbage, not one spoonful making it's way anywhere close to my mouth. I sulked in place, leaning my cheek against my sweating palm.

Gazing across the cafeteria, I watched the innocent chatter from table to table, each set of teenagers completely engrossed in their conversations.

I tried focusing, I did, but I felt as if my mind had been shattered. My ability to focus and concentrate on anything had completely burnt out, and I was left in the empty carcass of a nobody. A nonperson.

I tried to mill over what had possibly occurred last Saturday, to match the pieces of that broken memory together, but I just couldn't. It was as if my brain short circuited, and just before the puzzle would slide back together, a piece would be altered slightly and the entirety of it all would be have to be reconstructed and reprinted.

I could rewind and replay the events that had taken place, but in no way could I process them for further inspection. Something clicked inside me, and I'll be Jesus if I ever found out what. It was a strange thing, it was, the thought that my brain just couldn't handle the stress of working the transitions together between piece and piece. As if a cog had broken inside me, proving to be irreplaceable.

The slight flick of his head from left to right rang sharply in my brain, and I winced at the mere memory. Even the slightest of flashbacks inspired an unwanted spark of pain at the back of my skull, a foggy ache taking control of my numbed body.

I fiddled with my powdered lunch, before sighing and gazing out the windows.

Taya and Carter babbled mindlessly back and forth, but I felt an uncomfortable glare on the side of my face. I slowly turned to find Jason scowling at me, his head mimicking that of--.

His hair whooshed from side to side as he shook his head, and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, and mouthed 'We need to talk.'

I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could, glancing at Taya and Carter, before hoisting to my feet and disposing of my 'lunch' in one of the designated garbage bins. Jason got up preceding me, and exited swiftly through the side doors and into the courtyard. It was sure to be empty, as the weather seemed to have chilled down to the point where a sweatshirt was no longer going to sufficient in keeping one's self warm.