Stolen Voices ✓

January 25th

Quiet people have the loudest minds.

- Stephan King

January 25th:

Staring at the pale brick walls, Elias sits there, not really watching anything but taking all of it in nonetheless. His English teacher, whose breath smells like coffee as she leans over his desk, hands out the new essay assignment.

She passes through rows of hormonal, impulsive teenagers who have shoved their desks together despite her asking them not to. The room buzzes with the low chatter as they whisper to each other a web of gossiped lies that just continues to grow more elaborate and more inappropriate with each mention.

Nobody makes a move to talk to a quiet Elias. Not that he wants them to anyways. He's heard the web of lies spun up about him.

When she reaches his desk, her pearly teeth smile brightly, she sets a white piece of paper at the front of his desk. His pencil, which he hadn't realized he'd been tapping rapidly, halts as he reads the single sentence typed in black brick letters.

What is a moment in your life that makes you who you are now?

This question makes Elias stop. His heart pounding against his chest so rapidly, his breath seizing in his throat. The peripheral of his eyes turns fuzzy in anxiety.  He doesn't realize the liquid dripping from his nose, a red copper tinge brushing his lips, until the girl with too much perfume next to him squeals. His nose, bleeding fiercely, stains dots his desk.

His teacher, not knowing how to react, sends him out. 

Somehow he makes it out of the buzzing classroom, clutching the orange nurses pass so tightly in his fist he crumples it. The hallway feels like it's spinning, swaying back and forth as he continues to stumble forward, his hand dragging down the blue lockers to keep him steady. He is making a mess of the white pearl tiles, speckles of red blood trailing behind him.

Eventually, his vision turns to dancing black spots. Blinking rapidly, Elias can't seem to make them go away. Alone in the hallway, he has no choice but to lean against the locker for support. With his back against the cold blue metal, his lethargic frame sinks to the ground in a heavy slump. He hangs his head low between his legs, trying to slow down his rapid breathing.

The speed of his heartbeat is irregular, the feeling of nausea rolling over him in crashing waves with each failed gasp of air. 

Who knows how long he sits there, breathing heavily, before the sound of boots clicking in the background sounds. The echo of them against the tiles grows increasingly loud as they approach him. They continue to speed, their strides long until they abruptly stop. The shadow of their long figure looms over the panicking Elias, making him look up. However, the pounding in his temples that follows makes him lower it once again, breathing raggedly through his nose.

"Well, geez, I know I look a mess but do I really make you that sick," a slick, familiar voice grazes his ears, making Elias fight the pain to look up at her. A little less snow-covered than before, her eyes are still the same spectral blue.

He hasn't seen her since the day in the library.

"Hey weirdo," she greets, her eyes finding his big doe-like ones. She takes him in, in all the disarray. His hair flops in front of his face with sweat forming at his temple, his lips turned down in a grimace, his eyes watery with tears. A streak of red begins at the base of his nose, trailing a line that slits through his full lips and stops at the tip of his chin. His bronze skin, stained.

He nods, his version of hello.

She notices the bright colored paper in his grip, realizing he never made it to wherever he was supposed to go. Extending her hand out to him, he looks at it, then her. His brown eyes flicking between the two, unsure if he has it in him to accept the offer.