Just A Lump
It starts with a lump. Just a little bump on my hand. I don't give it much attention. I have never been an especially healthy person. Given recent events I haven't been feeling very well. I stare down at the note I wrote for Matthew. He was all I could think about. Though I am just a friend to him. I've told him before about the fire in my heart. He tells me to put it out. He also has a girlfriend... What I wouldn't do to get rid of her... I slip off to some very malicious thoughts before coming back to my senses. I could never hurt Elisa, a note like this would ruin their relationship! It would ruin our friendship, but the pain of seeing them together feels like bubbling, boiling lava in my veins...So a little bump was the least of my concerns. I crumple the note in my pocket persuading myself that I'd throw it away after class! Trying to forget my worries I slowly circle around the lump with my fingertip. It has to be a pimple or something. I don't usually get pimples on my hand. I can't imagine touching it is helping, but I can't help but fiddle with it. Feeling a sinking sensation in my stomach, I stop. Nothing is helping me cope with this pain. Everything I do just seems to make me panic. What if this lump is something bad?
Pulling my attention away from the lump. I try to pay attention to the teacher. I notice her glasses hanging loosely off her nose, her blonde hair is tied tightly in a bun and dull colourless clothing held up by a black belt. What a lovely monotone voice to top it all off. She's going on about grammar and proper proofreading. I look around my dusty old classroom filled with chatting students. Man, these guys will talk about anything. Their conversations are usually nonsense. Sometimes I hate the fact I'm even in the same age group as these people. All they talk about is the latest gossip, it's usually about some poor kid who was tricked into doing something stupid. School is like a cage filled with whispering, snickering, snakes that rat out the innocent. I wonder if they're talking about me? Taking a breath, I feel my uniform constant against my chest, suffocating me... I hadn't really gotten much sleep lately. A strange feeling inside had been keeping me up.
I take a sharp breath. My fingers are shaking. Am I going to be sick? My mouth tastes of iron. It feels like the walls are closing in on me. Everything is too close!!
I feel a sharp burst of pain. I yank my hand up to my face. Staring back at me is the most gorgeous red flower sprouting from my hand. Yet I can not enjoy this little rose. My throat feels like it is full of black sludge, I want to throw up.
"Brie? Do you need to go to the nurse?"
Before I know it I have darted out of the classroom and into the hallway. Snapping my attention back to my hand, I nearly scream. Buds, mushrooms, leaves and flowers are crawling up and engulfing my wrist and forearm. They break through skin and dig deep into my bones, filling my arm with excruciating pain. Biting my tongue I see bright red blood dripping from my wounds onto the clean floor. I quickly sprint towards the toilets. My legs feel like weak twigs. I run my arm under cold water hoping the plants would rub off like smudged ink. Of course I wouldn't be so lucky. Suddenly I find it hard to breath, my throat closes and tightens. I choke on my breath, gasping desperately for air, I feel something fall from my lip. "Petal..." I mutter holding a blood stained petal between my shaking fingertips. Glancing at the mirror before me. I get such a shock that I stumble back, losing the strength to stand I slide down the wall and onto the floor. Red, white, green and yellow plants protrude from my neck. Thick blood is dripping down my front. I press my back against the wall of the bathroom and try to desperately calm myself down.
I slowly pull the crumpled note out of my pocket. Through bloody breathes and glassy eyes I whisper the words I wrote...
"I love you. I know I shouldn't. I know you are happy with her, but I love you. You told me to drop it. you told me to let it go but I can't. Like a rose covered in thorns I can't hold you... At least I can stare and hope you understand."
Blood drips from my lip staining the white paper. I feel it growing in my lungs... Sharp thorns piercing into my flesh and ridding me of any feeling I had left. Are you the cause of this my love? Did you make flowers grow in my lungs? They're beautiful...I can't breathe...
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