Something Hazy

“People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones”

Swiftly gazing at the suns gleaming light torching my brown skin, my feet beneath the salty waters of Honolulu while the small waves clashed against my thighs and the warm humid air brushed itself against my sun kissed cheeks. Awaiting the glorious sun to reach the horizon and set out its amour with the mysterious ocean before disappearing into the night sky filled with intense flares of fire. This holiday was not quite like the rest.... luck had displayed itself and by that I meant my parents haven’t argued for the first time in a decade. Summer was over and school was just a peak away.

A peaceful arrival back home, unpacking and preparing for school the next day. Now back to reality, there was one problem that had me nervous for school and that glitch was Shelly. Shelly used to be a piece of my friendly circle, until high school arrived after middle school and everything deliberately went downhill. Constantly being bullied by the new popular gang plus being bad mouthed for having an awful lifestyle. I mean who could I possibly blame? It’s obvious that my parents weren’t always in the same room due to the fact that they both hated each other for their own personal reason. At least they didn’t get a divorce.

Walking through the halls were my biggest fear, eventually shelly would appear right behind me, fully prepared to rip my skeleton out, making sure I have no support system. Here she is standing six inches away from my face, criticizing my life on how sad it must be to have parents who practically hate each other, asking me,” How do they live under the same roof? Believe me, that question has multiple clones of itself piled up in my question box that are stored deep inside my membrane. Had she no idea what she is doing to my mental state? Literally crushing every bit of my soul from blissful memories of a happy childhood, she had made me face the truth right in the eye. Remembering a crucial actuality that I am their child, firmly created from both human beings who wanted me in this world.

Every tear that strokes itself rapidly down my cheeks causes a slight disparate rhythm of a now dysfunctional heart because of sudden sighs and hiccups due to combustion and irregular thoughts that mislead my originality.

Not a day would pass without Shelly having a blast with her flawless statements. Stating how her parents were always together and happy as ever. Telling me how she can’t wait to see how horrible my parent’s divorce would flip up-side down. Poor young me, high school seemed to be a danger zone on how easily people like her would get away with a deceptive tongue. At the end of the day, it all had to be my fault, I let her get away with it, not because I wanted to let her be superior but simply because there is always a light to shine through every rainy cloud. Her time would eventually come.

The day I dreadfully suppressed had arrived. Broken to the core, probably my heart was already dead, just faking a beat to prioritize its daily routine. Understanding it all was my main concept. Questioning the urge to accept the fact that not all marriage last and not all people wait for the right person. So eventually you break apart for it was all a lie and nothing really lasts.

A week had passed since the day my parents had finalised their divorce. I laid there, in the middle of Woodley high schools’ football field, ready to catch the stars and the infinite beauty of space that was just a billion millimetres away. As the sunset magically aroused itself, I was ready to quench the life out of my apple when I heard shelly. This was the day I let it all out. Raging with anger within my being, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, this time I was ready to hear those pathetic disclaimers and fake sympathies.

To my surprise, nothing had been said in the air, so I peeked only to see her beside me. She seemed odd. It had been like five minutes since we both were just staring at the sky as the heavens slowly opened their doors to earth. I questioned her irrational gestures. Hearing a very broken voice project itself with heavy sighs as I watched tears roll down her pink cheeks, turns out we both weren’t that different. After all, her parents filed for a divorce too, the sun dawned for her realization that she should have seen her own flaws instead of another. Life is simply anonymous. Don’t forget that those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

- n.s