A voice that was distant, but at the same time near, broke that impenetrable barrier that she placed by self-defense. Maybe it was a conscious mechanism, or even an unconscious one. She had spent those two years of high school in her own world; a small world in which she felt a perfect intruder. The girl still had one more year left and she had to face it. She did not know what her own heart wanted, hated and repelled. The curtain began to dance at her side, causing an unsteady flutter. The fact that this person who rarely spoke to her would approach by chance, was enough to make her explode in emotions and feelings alien to her. The wind whispered soft caresses to her ear, saying that it was time to answer.
It was powerful to know how a word could shake even the most unstable heart.
The other person extended her hands, feeling for a few instants the fingertips of the girl who had managed to break the shell inside the environment thats she despises so much. A place made to spend pleasant moments with people that you have opened over time, a place where people become social butterflies. She was a bird whose wings had been cut off, unable to fly. She had so longed for it, that now those wings hurt, squeezing all hope that lay within her. She had become accustomed to stirring them without any result. Something automatic like that invisible curtain that she uses to cover the stage. Nevertheless, that other girl had entered. And that strange body was repelled by her imaginary immune system.
She kept her "thanks" inside her mouth, seeing how quickly, she turned her back to return to her circle of friends. The brown hair that reminded the sitting girl of an unfading autumn that floated in illusions that were like a complicated puzzle. The pieces were scattered around her but, to reach them, she would need to extend her hands out of the bubble and, being fragile, it would break. It would break like the world she created to protect herself like a helpless child. For that reason, the box she had given her, probably made from the art of origami, left her more confused than ever, not knowing if it was a complex piece or something ready to be discarded in the future. She tried to return to the cinnamon hair that unbalanced her surroundings, to finally assume that it was a simple delivery and nothing more than that.
And that's how she decided to open it.
With each fold, the girl the softness of her touch doing them with patience and dedication. She sensed that it was her favorite hobby when she understood the precision in which she had doubled each end. She was almost opening a Christmas present, her heartbeat increasing in surprise. It was not very big, nor very small. It could be that it was empty, just something without meaning as well as its existence. The saliva that ran down her throat tasted like bitter hot coffee, burning her throat. She never believed that a simple gesture would cause her so much anguish mixed with anxiety. Once finished, she came across something small that contained a black liquid inside. Her blue eyes widened in surprise, and once again they turned towards that girl. To her surprise, she was looking at her too, until a girl a year older than them interrupted that ephemeral exchange. Her lavender hair covered her face, leaving her anonymous. She pressed her nails in frustration against the wooden folder, and then remembered that it would be useless, since she had another area in which to do much more damage when she got home. She lowered her sapphire irises, enduring her desire to embrace as she recalled the intense pain of such act.
She got up from her seat, refreshing her memory that the bell at the end of classes had sounded like a deeper noise. The brunette waved her hand without saying anything, ending ot with a wink of her eye. More stunned than ever, she left the ink she had received and, thus, see that inside the origami there was a message. It was something punctual. So chillingly punctual that the first thing she did was look at the clock in horror.
There is a discount for cat food in the supermarket until five.
All emotion disappeared from her body, leaving her inexpressive for brief seconds, until her first bubble bursted.
Does she want me to buy it ?!
She held what was the remain of an origami really hard, readied her things in a matter of seconds, and shot out of the classroom door, ignoring the whispers and gossip about her fantastic retreat. Little did she care, less time to worry about it. She did not want to disappoint her. Rather, she did not want to embitter her. That hat that she uses as a barrier was subjected to pressure by her hand and thus it will not fly with her haste. The echoes made by her shoes in the corridor resembled the sound of the needles of an exasperating clock, tearing her eardrums. Se had to hurry and be on time.
At what point did our relationship become this way?