Hidden Behind Everything Happy

Falling deeper

Results day

I felt sick. Like literally I want to puke in the bin sick. And I was nervous, or maybe the nerves were making me sick. Either way, I was shaking. My hands moving involuntarily and making me look cold. I was pacing my bedroom, mum was staring blankly at the wall nervous too but oblivious to all the questions flying around behind my eyes. Was my revision enough? Would I pass? What do I do if I don't pass? I won't get into college...

I heard the low grumble of the car as Riley pulled into our drive. I jumped and ran to the window, I could see him in the car, he beeped the horn once and then started fiddling with the hanging dice that hung from his mirror. I knew he was nice and nervous too then. Brilliant.

I walked out of my front door with my mums good luck and then in my head, right at the back of my mind a little voice stirred, and from me too munchkin... Since my dad died it was like my conscience spoke to me in third person, like it was my dad. That made me smile, I knew I would get a big congratulations from my dad even if I didn't do well.

I jumped in Riley's car.

"You nervous?" He was white and he had a big bruise on his bottom lip, that nervous habit must of never left him because whenever he was upset you would see Riley chewing continuously on his bottom lip to the point where it would bleed. He said it helped, but I highly doubted it, how could causing yourself pain help at all?

"Yep, very, you?" Riley raised one eyebrow, knowing I didn't even really have to ask. He nodded before putting his key into the slot and turning it to set off the ignition. I breathed in deeply doing up my seat belt. I metaphorically felt like I was walking to the hangman's noose, if I did bad in my exams I could kiss college goodbye, and say hello to a life of working at the local burger stall until I die in debt and alone. I breathed deeply letting those evil and awful thoughts wash away.

Would Riley leave me if things went bad?

I looked at him sideways to see him tapping along to the rap from the radio. Mouthing the words he heard a hundred times a week, they liked to replay things on the local radio stations. He was staring straight ahead and barely talking. He was nervous, without college he would have to live with his parents forever and feed off their money, the thought of which he despised.

We arrived at the school way too quick for my liking. I panicked, feeling colour drain from my face. How could their be people outside stood in groups smiling holding their envelopes like this was an average day at school. I gulped saliva in nervousness and then pushed open my door.

I was bombarded by a group of people way too happy for the time of the morning and the date. How could they still be worrying about worshipping me when their whole lives ahead hung on this precipice of a day. I felt like I was on a roulette being thrown and my numbers were about to be called, and my house and life rested as a bet.

"Like aren't you totally excited bout your results, I mean we all know your so beautiful you'll pass it with flying colours!" I cringed, because beauty has so much to do with your exam grades, and also I wasn't. I was plain, curly dark chestnut hair, big blue eyes and slightly tanned olive skin. I was a plank Jane in my eyes, there was nothing special or beautiful about me.

"Not really no" I pushed past rather forcefully noticing how Riley took time to talk to all his sporty friends. I took the chance at some alone time and ran into school via the receptionist door.

And ran head first into possibly the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I guffawed at the strange exotic beauty that emanated from his doe like eyes and wilting flower shyness as he sidestepped me and gave me a look full of sorrow. I watched as he walked away, feeling my heart go out to him, he didn't look much older than me. How could he look so sad when he was obviously so young?

He disappeared outside the door and I felt my head come back to the moment. I was about to find out my results of my six form year. My three subjects that would define the rest of my life.

I breathed in again, stepped out into the room and ran at the desk that had my alphabetical name place and took my results from the woman who gave me a massive thumbs up, I looked at the envelope with a dropping feeling in my stomach. So much rested on this.

I stuffed it in my pocket and ran out of the building, I pushed past what felt like hundreds of people even though it may have been about thirty, then I crossed the road and took a right turn into the town gardens. I carried on running, I knew exactly where I was running to.

I ran faster, turning the corner to the left and running the dirt track that led up and past my house carrying on past the big stone wall following the twists and turns until I came face to face with the wrought iron gate.

I pushed it heavily letting it swing open and bounce with a tremendous clink. The black and gold swirly gate bounced a few more times before leaning idly on the side next to the fence as I ran through the cemetery to the back end where benches and various trees stood. I wanted to be alone, completely by myself.

I ran idly past the headstones and crypts and headed to the tomb that went under the ground at the end of the graveyard, the furthest away and the most enclosed, next to the wall and under the oak tree. I disappeared down into the underground fortress of the crypt. Out of view of everyone I didn't want to see or talk to. Away from fake smiled, fake laughter and liars.

I slumped down into the ground that was cold, hard stone. The lack of heat made the backs of my legs tingle as I left them lying flatly on the ground, staring at my feet, feeling closer to the memory of my dad than I had in a long time.

I must of drifted into sleep because my dads face started to appear in my mind, faint but distinct, real yet ethereal. Like a ghost, somebody that I used to know. I reached out and he stepped away, he didn't even step, it was as if he glided, floating like some kind of surreal being, his skin emanating the coldness of marble and his face as pale as the new days milk.

"Daddy" I was three year old kid again, my pigtails swinging and my little red and white strawberry shortcake are dress swaying in the breeze which I could feel tickling at my knees atop my little knee length frilly socks.

"Sophie, my little princess" I ran up to him, reaching to wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tight but I could catch up. I was pushing harder, forcing my short legs to propel me towards him. But he was slipping away. And no matter how fast I ran, or no matter how hard I pushed myself I was still letting him fade away, letting my childhood dissipate and evaporate, leaving me behind broken and just a shell of who I was priorly.

"Daddy! Daddy come back, Daddy no!" I woke up with a start, screaming. It was dark and I was cold. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face and my breath was steaming in little strange clouds in front of my mouth. Man, I was freezing. I rubbed my hand up my arm feeling my skin prickle and the hairs stand on end while goosebumps protruded oddly. I didn't think that I could have been sleeping for more than a few minutes in this weather, it would have woken me up. It was extremely cold, and I could barely feel my feet which were still flat on the floor. The balls achy from the icy wind.

I pushed my legs hard and stood up feeling shaky. It was as if my dream had been real and I had really run the entire time looking for my father who I would never see again. I felt my eyes prickling, and a really stupid saying I had heard a thousand times from my Dads mouth when I was younger invaded my mind 'No use crying over spilt milk'.

Wise words.

I stood and crept out, feeling my letters brittle paper crinkling and crunching beneath my feet as I walked slowly towards the moonlight. It filtered slowly in and cast an every and ghoulish glow over the inside entryway of the crypt. I got to the place where the stores descended towards the sky and faced it. The beauty of the stars blinded me, my eyes growing to the size of the enormous and spectacular moon. I lifted one foot and took it one step at a time, how beautiful could the stars be? I hadn't ever believed that shooting stars could be wished on, but then the minute I looked up at the sky I saw one. A brilliant bright shooting star colliding with the front of the moon, casting a black line across its surface as though it had hit it for real.

I took another step thinking how cold and stunning the sky was tonight when I-