Vulnerable & Invincible.

Flamingo.jpg
Here stands a flamingo, because I like the subtlety to randomness.

After my mother got transferred to a rather small town, somewhere close to the countryside, things had definitely turned hard, I for once did feel isolated but on the same hand I came to realize that it had always been harder for my mother than me. Trying to cope with the new neighborhood wasn’t really hard, especially since the couple who lived right next to our house, were really old, and Ms. Francis was a really sweet lady, and perhaps one of the biggest reason of my ease with the new place.

The hardest part was schools.The school in itself wasn’t that bad, the classes were just as normal as they were back a few months ago, though I definitely had started growing a liking for my new English teacher, Ms. Rebecca. She had something in herself, that foreshadowed a sense of familiarity, she also gave me books to read in my spare time. The first book being, “To kill a mockingbird”, by Harper Lee was a great read, and I think my liking towards the book made my teacher happy.

As weeks passed by, I made a few friends at school, Micheal was a year older than me, and so was Nathan, the only one my age was Sarah, and she was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful girl I had ever met. I wanted her to be my girlfriend, I adored her, but I did not think it was a good idea to ask her out, at least not yet.

The connection between us was not equally strong through and through on both the sides ,still we texted like a foolish teenage couple crazy in love, only for what we mean at that age.

“I missed the fest in the evening today.”

“Trust me, I know how that feels.”

“Ouch, I just broke a nail.”

“Oh! Drake, are you a little troubled.”

“NO, why?”

“Please don’t lie to me, one could clearly see the bruise on your neck.”

“It’s nothing awful, just a small fight I had with the neighborhood kids over a game we were playing a few days back.”

It was always the same way, before Sarah’s parents had a divorce, and she had to move elsewhere. It was saddening, grieving rather, but our connection was too strong to break with just that.

We still had a week left with us, 7 days, 168 hours and another six hundred four thousand and eight hundred seconds. Since the divorce was no surprise, Sarah had a gathering arranged for her closest friends in the only club we had in the town. As dusk fell, and friends left, I and Sarah stood outside the place after we decided to visit a tourist attraction together. We had our dinner there, call it a date if you will. And so another day passed by, as I held the door, she passed by and before saying goodbye we managed in a kiss, a quick one at that, but everlasting.

It was her father who came to pick her up and so I left for my place alone, as I drove back to the small town, I thought about the word “special.” And I thought the last person who said that was my late grandfather. I was very grateful to have heard it again because I believe not all of us are special, and not all of them get to this point in life, at a point where you might be “special.”

There was always a sense of vulnerability in my texts and my words, and in everything I did, but knowing what I knew made me invincible. And invincibility became my strength.

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