Psychedelic Love Story

**Peter's POV:**

I trotted slowly; it would be a miserable day. I was seething, but the weather was encouraging enough. It was a chilling morning; there had been a heavy downpour earlier, and the cold winter wind brought with it clouds so somber and rain so penetrating.

I knew all eyes were on me; everyone in the school already knew, I was quite popular.

The same question was on everybody's mind: Why was I in school today? I couldn't answer that either. I lost my mom yesterday. Every normal human being would have stayed at home today or at least been anywhere else but here. I wasn't normal then.

I walked slowly towards the class; I was a bit late, but I guess I could be pardoned for that.

My eyes were red, from a sleepless night, not tears. I hadn't been able to squeeze out a single tear. I was far too relieved to cry. She had been in the hospital for the past two weeks, feeling excruciating pain. I could see the pain in her eyes; she also wanted it to end. The pain was too much for her to bear.

She had become very lean and pale in the past few days. It was messing up my visual memories of her. I couldn't see past her pale face in my head, in contrast to her radiant and chubby healthy self. The cancer had eaten every bit of her and left her as an empty shell. It was such a depressing sight that would haunt me forever. I really loved her but didn't get the chance to bond with her. I was so busy living out school on a high. All I ever thought about was getting girls and winning the next football matches. I was a crucial member of the school football team, perhaps the best. My school's football team was one of the best in the district. Football matches meant a chance to win and get more love from girls from both our school and whichever school we were up against. I was mostly the star of the show, and I did savor those moments. It was always a thrill.

I tried to bond with her in the last few days. I skipped football practices and went directly to the hospital from school. I made little conversation and humored her. She found it difficult to talk, and it grew worse daily until she couldn't anymore. I watched her fade away on the hospital bed. It was such a horrible feeling to watch someone you love waste away while you could do nothing but stare.

A couple of my friends from the football team and my best friend, Ralph, visited often in the hospital. They always tried to cheer me up. Their gesture seemed sincere, but I would rather have them not visiting. There was an underlying feeling they came to see me at my most vulnerable state, to see if I had cracked under pressure. I always carried an air of supremacy around whenever I walked. They came to see if I still had that pride. Their visitation seemed sincere and was out of concern, but the feeling was still there.

The most depressing part was Dad not being with her in the hospital till she died. Dad always traveled for business; he was rarely around. I couldn't blame him for that; I was also busy maintaining a classic life. Him being a successful businessman was why I had so much access to money and maintained a classic Alpha male lifestyle.

He flew in from outside the country when he heard she had died. He cried bitterly while I watched in anger. I know he really loved her, and the feeling was obviously mutual. I thought it was enough reason to be at her bedside at her final moments.

She would have sought solace with both of us beside her to make up for the years of neglect which she never complained about. She was always quite content with seeing me happy from winning a match for the team or getting a girl I had been eyeing for so long, and my Dad from making a successful business trip. Neither of us noticed she was falling ill, which she kept to herself. I did notice she seemed weak and tired, but I assumed it was stress from taking care of the house. I didn't realize she was very sick until it was too late. She said the doctor told her her condition was very critical. She didn't want to bother or worry either of us and kept it to herself.

I know she didn't bother to tell us because neither of us ever showed any concern. I felt distraught at every thought of it. I knew why I didn't stay back at home; I was scared my guilt would eat me up in my silence. My monsters would use my idleness against me. I would hide among people where they couldn't haunt me.

I walked into the classroom; a teacher was already in class. It was the Biology Teacher, Mr. Whitehead; he seemed like a good man and a gentle soul, perhaps one of the class's favorite teachers. He seemed so loved for a number of reasons I was oblivious to, but I rarely paid attention in his class. I was a backbencher; I was either chatting with my friends or surfing through the media on my phone.

I felt many pairs of eyes set on me. I greeted Mr. White, who also stared as I walked to my usual seat.

He called me back.

"I heard what happened today, Mr. Ben. I'm so sorry about the death of your Mother. May her soul rest in peace," he said.

"Thank you, sir," I replied.

I saw his mouth opening again, but he shut it immediately. I knew he wanted to ask me the obvious question. Why was I in school today? He refrained from it. He knew it was none of his business, and I respected and appreciated him for that.

I walked back to my seat.

"Hey man, I'm so sorry about your loss."

"Thank you."

"I and the rest of the football team planned to pay you a visit at home today. We didn't know you would come to school."

"I appreciate your concern."

"I'm so sorry, man. May her soul rest in peace."

"Amen." I sighed. I knew I was going to hear a lot of those words today.

I was right. I was treated like an egg about to crack. I received condolences from literally everyone, both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Each was the same statement. I was starting to get frustrated and irritated with hearing the words over and over again.

I was not comfortable with being pitied by everyone. I knew I should have stayed home to fight my demons; it was better than the endless stream of condolences. I isolated myself on a chair at a secluded part of the school and sat down alone. I wanted to avoid snapping at anyone; it would be unfair. They all had a lot of empathy for me, which was appreciated but not needed.

What I needed was to be treated like everybody else, certainly not like someone about to break anytime. It would keep me reminded of what I was so desperate to forget and get over. I was lost in my thoughts. I heard the sound of footsteps and a twig break behind me. I snapped back to see who it was. I was livid; can't I have a moment to myself?

**Priscilla's POV:**

I froze. I didn't mean to startle him. I must have looked like a creep, didn't I? The expression on his face scared me even more; he looked so cold, yet so handsome.

My heart skipped a beat. I'd had a huge crush on him since I started school as a freshman. He was my senior by two years.

I was tired of how everyone treated him like he would break, even his best friend. I thought he should know him better. I knew that feeling of frustration of being pitied by everyone. I also lost my Dad in an auto accident at a young age. The feeling was overwhelming; he was my world. I cried so hard until I felt I had no liquid in me again. Everyone trying to protect me made me want to cry more. I wanted to get away from everyone, be alone. I wanted to stare at the sun as it set beyond the horizon alone, but deep down, I just needed someone to talk to, not someone who pitied, someone who understood how I felt; no one did.

I thought I could help him out. I had seen him walking earlier to a secluded part of the school. It was one of the calmest parts of the school with a chair under a big tree shielding direct rays of sunlight, exuding a cool and soothing atmosphere. I had seen him walking alone, nobody was around; it was my chance to try and talk to him. I waited for a few moments before following him, for it not to look like I was stalking him.

I saw him with his head bowed from a distance; he seemed lost in thought. I walked toward him, hoping he would notice my presence and raise his head. He didn't until I was so close to him. I didn't know what to do; calling his name would really startle him and would be an awkward way to start a conversation. I stepped on a twig accidentally; it made such a loud noise he snapped his head up.

His expression sent a chill down my spine. He looked very angry. Perhaps coming here was a bad idea, I thought. I should have listened to Janet, my best friend. She warned me against trying to talk to him. I'd never tried to start a conversation with him on a regular day because I was shy and a bit scared of him. Doing so when he's sad and probably angry was a bad idea, she had said. I insisted I wasn't trying to talk to him because I had a crush on him; I was trying to help him as someone who had been in that moment of pain and sadness, trying to help another in his time of need. I had convinced myself to believe that until I did.

"Hi Peter," I said meekly.

"Hi, what do you want?" he asked very coldly.

I was taken aback by how cold he was.

"Errrm... I wanted to tell you sorry about your mom's death," I blurted out.

"Thank you, is that what you wanted? I've said it, now, can I have some time alone now?"

I felt so small in front of him; I regretted coming to meet him. I wished I could sink myself into the ground. He thought I was another one of those girls who had a crush on him, trying to get close to him in his most vulnerable state. I couldn't have him thinking that. I tried again.

"I just wanted to tell you, if you needed someone to talk to, someone who understand you, I am right here for you," I stammered.

"I'm tired of having to listen to the same nonsense from you all. I don't know you; why would I try to talk to you? You claimed to understand me. How can you do?" he asked angrily.

This is going wrong, totally wrong. It wasn't as I planned it in my head. I anticipated him rejecting my gesture, not just this. He is being really mean right now.

"I'm really sorry," I replied.

"Yeah, right," he said mockingly.

I turned my back and walked; I could feel him staring a hole in my back. I felt really embarrassed. I should have listened to Jane and resisted the urge to talk to him. I tried to make excuses for his reaction in my head. I really liked him and couldn't hate him because he snapped at me. Perhaps he did because he had been pushed to his limits, and I just coincidentally ended up on the bad side of his mood. I felt sad; it was unfair. I didn't deserve to be at the receiving end of his transfer of aggression. It all toiled in my mind. I was angry and pitied him at the same time. I was having a mixed reaction.

I saw Jane, and she waved at me from a distance; she was sitting there with a book on her lap, studying for the physics test we had this morning.

"So, how did it go?" she asked with piqued interest.

"He snapped at me."

"Snapped at you? Why? What did you do?" She asked. I could see the change in her expression; she can be really protective of me.

"Apparently, I said the same thing everyone has been saying to him since morning, and he flared up a bit," I replied.

"Who the hell does he think he is? He can't snap at you for showing him empathy," she said angrily.

"It seemed he had received enough sympathy for a day, don't you think? It could be really frustrating, you know. It is totally my fault for being shortsighted," I replied. I was trying to play down her anger. I didn't want her to be angry at him.

"How is it your fault? He should have stayed at home if he didn't want people to sympathize with him. It's a normal human response to show sympathy to someone suffering or distressed. He cannot tell people how to show theirs. Most of the people who showed empathy did so out of genuine concern. So what's his problem?" she asked.

"Come on Jane, let's forget about it. It was my fault; I should have totally listened to you and not tried to talk to him."

"Yeah, you should have," she said, rolling her eyes at me. "But you couldn't resist talking to your crush."

"Oh, shut up Jane. Let's forget about that; we have other things to focus on. The next class is starting soon," I said.

"Where's Phil?" I asked.

"I haven't seen him. I hope you remember we have a physics test, and it's 30 percent of the total grade."

"Of course, I do."

"You've studied for it? I've barely seen you sit down to read today; all you did was talk about Peter."

"I woke up in the middle of the night and did my reading."

"And you finished the whole topics?" she asked.

She always does this before a test or an exam. She knew I was always one or two topics behind. She was as hardworking and brilliant academically as they come, and quite the opposite was I. She always tried her best to make sure I was keeping up in class or completed the topics before a test and proceeded to ask random questions. We sometimes read together the night before a test or an exam

Peter:

I lay awake on the bed. My eyes hurts from staring too much at the bright lights of my cell phone. The whole house was as silent as a graveyard. Dad has traveled again on one of his business trips.

I was mad at him. Mom died just two days ago and he has started traveling again. He could have stayed at home for a bit. It really hurts!

I however tried to reason with him, perhaps that was his own way of getting over grief but what about me? Nobody was thinking about me. I was as hurt he his. He assumed I could take care of myself with my persona. I looked fine to them but I was depressed, everything looked so bleak.

I watched the fan as it spin. The pain in my heart just won't end. The words that I find just don't seem to compare .

I was in my mom room, lying on her bed. I covered my self with her sleeping blanket , her faint scent filled my nostrils as I tried to seek solace in it and imagine she was also with me. I knew it would fade away with time.

I looked at the interior design of her room. It was really beautiful. I rarely come into her room and never noticed how beautiful it was.

It was painted white, a color that exudes serenity. I saw framed Poems hung on her walls. I knew she loved reading books, she wrote often but I never got to read them. A copy of her favorite book was still on the dresser, I remembered the book because she took another copy to the hospital. She often read it when she was alone in the hospital. I picked up the book and glanced throught it. she was particularly fond of Jane Eyre, the main character and the title of the book.

I knew she loved the book so much, She often told me if she later had a daughter she'd probably name her Jane. I didn't share enthusiasm about books and rarely comment on it.

I noticed there were a lots of framed Poems hanging on her walls, I never knew she loved it that much. There was so much I didn't know about her. I felt a pang in my heart!

I stood up to and walked to her study table. I saw some scribbles on a note and picked. I recognized her handwriting, she was writing a poem. I picked one of the notes to read what she wrote.

She wrote :

'" Color in sky Prussian blue

Color in sky rose carmethene

Scarlet fleece changes hue

Wear your love like heaven

In my mind wrapped in

Don't know where to stop

And where I begin

Like I found myself

An imaginary friend '"

It read it In my mind, I couldn't figure out what it mean. That was why I never was a fan of poetry because of the same reason, I rarely understood them.

My eyes strayed to her dresser, there was a framed picture. I picked it up, it was a picture of the three of us. I looked at her, she had such a beautiful addictive smile. I saw how much I resembled her, I got my looks from her.

I knew how handsome I was, not just from the comments from people or girls who swarmed over me. I knew from my mother, she sang it to my ears, she complimented me at every chance she got, much to the distaste of my Father, who complained she was spoiling me and would make me an egocentric, he was right. No one has been brave enough to say it to my face but I knew was an egoist, I was fine with it. It's better to look down on people than to be looked down upon by people, I had always convinced myself.

I always exude an aura of overtly self importance, I let people know verbally and behaviorally I was better than them. I was richer, better looking and better at sports, that was all that matters . Thinking back it all felt wrong, I've been so selfish and naive for far too long, probably why I have only one good friend. The good friend I have and trusted was Ralph, he was my childhood friend, we've been together for a long time and was the only one that probably understands me, the others probably acts nice just to get my favors. I've lived in a state of delusion for so long.

I tought about the girl I snapped at today, I tought I've never seen her face before today. I knew she wasn't a senior, I would have seen her face before if she was. She looked quite concerned about me, but I was too angry to care. Her intentions was probably pure but she had a pretty bad timing. I remember the look on her face, when I snapped at her. She looked so embarrassed and distraught.

I would probably try and make it up to her, if I was chanced to see her again I tought.

My toughts wandered off to my father again. Where could he be, I didn't bother to ask where he was traveling, I was to angry to. He could be in any part of the world.

What could he be up to? I hoped he was okay. I was still angry with him but he's all I had now. I couldn't let anything happen to him. How I wished he was here, I needed him here, I needed someone to talk. Someone who understood the pain I was feeling.

I've been indoor since I got back from school. I surfed through Meme Twitter trying to find anything that could humor me, I found nothing till my eyes hurts. I had a lot of Direct Messages, I didn't open any, I wasn't in the mood to chat with anyone. I didn't need another flood of empathy.

I sat alone in my room waiting for the dark, now it's dark I await the first ray of sunshine.

I started feeling cramped and confined like the walls were closing on me, I don't know what was wrong but I was struggling to breathe properly. I had to step out of the house. I checked the time on my phone, it was quarter after 11pm . I realized how long I've been indoor.

The room felt short of air and I could barely breathe. I stood up and walked to my room. I wore my hoodie , because I knew it was quite cold outside, I put on my jogging sneakers and stepped out of the house.

I ran, feeling and embracing the rush of wind against my face. Starring at the street lights while I sprinted past them. I felt temporarily free of all worries and anxieties. I jogged when I was out of breath and ran when I was full of energy again. I ran in whatever direction my legs push me, I was starting to lose bearing and direction of where I was. But I was sure I couldn't possibly get lost, I can always find my way home.

Now I was walking, I was totally out of breath. I was trying to navigate my way back home. Every path I took look unfamiliar at night. I continued walking, trying to find a familiar route. I saw two figure from a distance, a guy and a lady. They seemed to be arguing, the lady seemed vaguely familiar but I couldn't pinpoint from where I knew her. I walked towards them.

The guy seemed to be intimidating the girl, now I knew why she looked familiar. They were exchanging words heatedly, I couldn't make out what they were saying. They didn't notice my presence till I was very closed to them.

"Is he harassing you" I asked with the coldest and harshest voice I could summon.

I stared at guy with my deadliest deadeye. I sized him up, I knew I could take him if push turns to shove.