Wendy's Mirror

Chapter Eighteen

SHWAAA!

THE RAIN ROLLED down the windows in strips. It made splashing noises on the ground and spread the coerce scent of sand into my nostrils. The weather was slowly turning chilly as the days were slowly crawling towards the end of September.

I could feel the nostalgia creep into my mind as I was all by myself in the lonely art room with Nathan's Call Me Home softly playing from my headphones into my ears. A very cold breeze blew in from the only open window in the room and fell on me— I shivered. Turning to my left, I let the dimming memory of my last time in the art room transcend on me. I could still fish out a greyish figure of him as he sat right next to me because he wanted to be with me.

He had stared at my painting so admirably that day.

"You just painted this?" He had asked, "You're really talented, you know?

I shut my eyes tightly, trying so hard to get the thoughts of him out of my head but I just could not. My brain and my heart wanted two different things.

It was always sunny around me whenever Thomas was by me. My world appeared so bright and vibrant when he was there. He was mine, my own Thomas, my boyfriend. When I wasn't bothered about how I looked, he was the next thing on my mind.

I blinked— no, I shouldn't have blinked! Because of that foolish move, I couldn't see him anymore. I couldn't even remember what he looked like. Was this how we were to let go of each other? How we were to let the happy memories we had created together shrivel?

I wiped off the tears trying to escape from my eyes and penned my name on my newest artwork; a painting of a bleeding heart. I loved every moment with him, so if this was the only wish life would grant to me, let me have Thomas back.

My phone's alarm rang, drawing me out of my sobriety— It was exactly four O' clock. I brushed my fingertips against the dry edge of the painting as I got up from the stool.

Goodbye.

Pulling off my painting apron, I revealed the green oversized pullover and black skirt which I was wearing. I took my tote bag off the shelve and picked up my collapsible umbrella, rushing out of the art room. It was Saturday, the day of Scarlett's older brother's wedding. Even with my pleas, Scarlett and Annabelle had refused me to go along with them because I would surely end up breaking down into tears at the sight of the venue.

'You're fresh off a heartbreak,' they had said to me.

I didn't know if I were to feel happy that they cared so much about me or feel disappointed in myself for being so weak that the world could tell how easily I crumbled in certain situations.

I hailed a cab and got in, instructing the driver to take me to the cafe. I rested my back on the seat and watched as the pouring rain gradually reduced to a light shower. The clouds in the sky weren't dark at all, so I knew that the weather was just playing pranks on us. It was going to stop raining any time soon.

I raised the sleeve of my pullover and I stared at my skin. Although it wasn't peeling as much as it did the day before, dark patches had started to appear on different spots of my arm. Annabelle had said that they would go away soon if I kept using the ointment but what about now? How was I to walk about with dark spots all over me? Do I say that I was slowly changing into a cheetah?

I drew my sleeve down. I had dark spots all over my skin, Scarlett had a torn neck and Annabelle was the unlucky one who had to tend to both of us.

I snickered, remembering how she had slept like a log the night before. She must have been so tired.