James stood there gazing at Melissa’s hair reflecting in the sun light. Like liquid gold it was.
He knew her since they were five years old. They played together in primary school, they supported each other in secondary school. Friends for over 11 years until they both finished school. It was then time for the both to choose colleges and universities.
She moved away, went to university to study forensic science. He stayed behind, studied at his local college. He found it difficult not talking to her every day. The two tried to stay in touch but over the years like all things they grew apart.
It only took two years for the two not to even speak to one another anymore. People lose contact all the time, but he always thought she was his soul mate. The two were meant to be together and because of that he knew that they would meet again.
He was born with so much promise, so much skill… so much talent. Born to loving parents, his father worked his ass off to get where he was today, his mother made sure he wanted for nothing. Maybe even spoiling him a bit too much.
At primary school he was one of the cool people, he was friends with everyone. They were all local to him, all in the same village. He loved nothing more than playing with his friends in the playground, rarely getting into trouble.
Of course secondary school came along, the best secondary school in his town and he was forced to meet new kids, kids that thought they were “it”. They tried to assert their dominance as the “hardest kid in year”. He wasn’t bothered about this however, he just wanted to be friends with everyone but after the first month one of the kids tried their luck with him. Pinning him up against the wall and head butting him. Did he cower away? Of course not, to do so would be a failure to the male species.
No, he fought back. He snapped, pinned the guy down to the ground and smashed his stupid face in repeatedly. The teachers pulled him off of the ailing child and he was suspended.
You ever have that feeling that you’re drowning? Ever think that your chest is about to explode because you just can’t catch your breath?
I have that feeling everyday. I’ve had it since the moment I was born, it made me struggle with even the most easiest tasks. Washing the dishes, taking out the trash, baking cookies. You name it, I had problems with it.
I used to tell the teachers at school that I was having trouble concentrating but in those days they took a cane to your hands for slacking. Making me sit there wearing a dunce cap while nursing swollen extremities from where I’d been hit. I begged, I pleaded with the teachers that I was unable to concentrate, that I couldn’t breathe. They called me an imbecile and struck me again. Continue reading