Kiira's Journal 4

Chemistry. I hate it. Yet its always the most memorable part of my day simply because I hate it that much. I remember every little thing that happens, usually.

Kelly was my lab partner today and let me tell you, there were more sparks flying from her to me than there were from the flint to the Bunsen burner. I know exactly why. I’m not exactly a wanted character around at school, people have a tiny tendency to hate me. Kelly is no exception. See, she has a thing for this guy, Hal. Hal hates me with more intensity than a white-hot laser. So, naturally, Kelly hates me, too. And being my lab partner…well, chances are good she’d rather have eaten the frog we were dissecting.

I was assigned the task of lighting the burner. I could see her staring at my ponytail and I can guarantee that she was thinking of lighting that on fire instead. Either way, I lit the burner and the experiment went on as planned. Nothing major happened except with Kelly ‘accidentally spilled saline on my shoes. But saltwater dries.

Class ended, school ended and the hallways filled with chatter. I got a few shoves and pushes and someone slammed my hand in my locker, but I didn’t die so it’s okay. Got my books, checked my books to make sure I hadn’t forgotten one and then headed outside. I was praying that I could get away before someone caught hold of me, but I was wrong.

I like to read. I’m such a bookworm. Saturday afternoon, to me, is a cup of a hot drink, tea or hot chocolate, a comfortable chair and a book. TV gives me a head-ache, I think I need glasses or something. So I have a habit of reading while I walk home. I’d read about six words before someone snatched my book. Hal, of course, Hal and his cronies. Somehow, picking on me is a show of strength. I find that insanely stupid. I’m not exactly a strong guy, I’m okay to admit that.

I didn’t even hear the taunting, really, but I’m sure it was nothing new, “faggot, girl, sissy, bitch” and the usual. But something happened that I wasn’t expecting. Next thing I knew, my head was splitting with pain and people were screaming. I heard Hal and all them running away but I couldn’t see. My head was aching fit to burst, having collided with the brick exterior of the school. I remember falling, vaguely, and I remember an arm dragging me up and carrying me.

I don’t remember the walk home at all. I remember lots of pain and that’s just about it. I guess we made it home and into my bedroom because they laid me down. A doctor came to see me and diagnosed a concussion for me. Then I fell asleep.

It was dark when I even attempted to open my eyes. It was like a knife in my skull, but I felt someone in the room so I had to, being paranoid as I am. I tried to focus on the dark figure at the edge of my bed but it was impossible. I gave up and fell back against the pillows, only serving to hurt my head more.

“Careful, Blue.” Only two words to me and I knew who it was. Hayo. He calls me blue, the color I’ve dyed my hair. I felt him moving around and then felt him kiss my cheek. He talked softly to me for a while and I nodded and shook my head best I could in regards to his questions. But mainly, I smiled all the time. A tiny, little smile as small as I could do without hurting my head too badly. He told me stories, asked me about my day and, of course, sang to me. He also included a few of those oh-so-sarcastic comments and jibes at me that I pretended to find offensive.

Night must have fallen because he lay back next to me. Told me his parents knew he was with me and that it was okay, I needed him more. Slowly, gently gathered me into his arms, making sure not to manhandle my head, and placed my head on his shoulder softly. This time, I fell asleep first. I know because the singing got quieter and quieter as the pain got less and less until there was nothing but the singing and the blackness of sleep.