Something like nothing :
Trapped forever in the passing moment
This is a story about me, about her, and everything between us. Our supposed to be story.
Mid June, college freshman, noon, perfect weather, got the grades, got the scholarship, done with high school, parents super proud, somehow I made it, right here, right now, the ground beneath my feet is proof enough that I'm worth something, sounds too good to be true right? Well, that's what it sounds like to me, too good to be true. Sounds foolish, but I can't stop thinking about how all this could come crashing down at any moment, how the world would tumble down and suck everything into a black hole and we'd be lost for all eternity. Big sis keeps looking my way, probably since I was staring distractedly at the sky every now and then, she looks a little impatient, I bet she's reading my head again, she's always been the one who knows me best and is never afraid to knock some sense into my clouded mind when necessary, not like my parents, who always thought I was too fragile to have the truth slammed to my face. I'm not sure what it is that keeps me down all the time, maybe I'm just born a pessimist, wow, that sounds like complete bull. Maybe it's some devil manipulating me from the inside, well, that's what my mom theorized in the yesteryears, I remembered getting slapped in the face whenever I acted too out of hand, I've always been quite a handful. I guess what really gets me frustrated is the waiting, waiting for something, someone, anything that could make this life worth living, make it more…just more, isn't that what everyone hopes for?
"Stop acting like the walking dead," a small push to the back of head caught me off guard and I stumbled unsteadily forward a few steps. "Hey!" I shot back in annoyance, glaring at the culprit, big sis glares at me back, daring me to raise my voice at her again, no way, I valued my life and I know better than to pick up that challenge. In defeat, I carried my bags down the trunk and started to walk up to my assigned apartment '2-1-A1', so that must mean, staircase two, first floor, A1 must be the door number. I dragged my feet up two flights of stairs, the door was already open when I got there, looks like someone beat me to it.
"Hello?" I called out, quietly entering the apartment, my apartment. "Hi," came a deep throaty voice with a foreign accent, I recognize that it was Indian immediately. A tall lean girl walked out, her skin was fairer than what I thought an Indian should have, perfect oval face, big eyes and a tall nose, typical for an Indian. My father was behind, he looked skeptical, he has a little bit of a racist thing, not a trait I'm particularly fond of about him. "Hello" came another voice with an even thicker accent, an older lady walked out of one of the rooms, she moved over to us, adjusting her sari before taking my hand in her own rough yet warm one, greeting us with a smile in her very strange mix of languages and accents. I just did my best to not look awkward. My whole family came up then, and we shook hands, greeted, then us girls were busy cleaning and unpacking.
The apartment had only two rooms, a pretty big hall, a toilet-slash-bathroom, a small area that could be used as a kitchen and a store room. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, it had a balcony too, you can't see much, since the college was mostly surrounded by what seemed to be abandoned shop houses, trees and overgrown bushes, not all that glamorous as what I had hoped, but it only makes sense, considering the government was cutting cost and all, at least it didn't have inconsiderate neighbors with their loud speakers blasting away, pretty conducive quiet area for learning. All in all, it was good.
There was still some time left after cleaning since the last batch wasn't done with the registrations yet, so I took a short nap in my shared room with Yashawini, the Indian girl from before. It was the first room, the air in the second felt a little stagnant, my dad was still skeptical, but the beds and cupboards were in better condition, plus there was more light in the first room. When I woke up, I felt sick, like seriously sick, I don't remember ever feeling so sick in my life. I curved my back and wrapped my arms tightly around my aching tummy, I was afraid I would throw up at any moment.
"Hey sport," dad walked in then, "They're calling you guys already," I looked at him slowly through my thick bangs, arms still around my waist, oh God, I swear there was something kicking me from the inside, I feel like someone just pour three gallons of red hot chilies sauce into my stomach.
"I think I've got gastric," I managed to murmur out, vision hazing, should have figured this would happen, I've been sick for the whole week, it's always like this, it will start with a slight sore throat, then a cough, flu, fever, gastric or indigestion would be last on the list. I don't really recall what mom and dad were saying to me after that since I was having one major migraine, somehow though they dragged me out of the apartment and went down to one of the little mini cafes on campus. Father ordered milk for me, it was the sweetest milk I've ever tasted, and I don't mean it in a good way, but I gulped it down anyway, and tried my best to swallow a few lumps of rice. I thought that some food would ease the pain in my tossing tummy, well, I thought wrong, five minutes later I was bent over a huge bin spilling my guts, with mom holding my hair out of my face. I could see the seniors looking my way, damn, can't believe this is happening, on the first day too, talk about embarrassing.
With my weak knees, somehow I made it to the lecture hall where they were going to give a short briefing on some of the college rules and regulations. I tried my best to enter as quietly as possible into the hall considering I was ten minutes late, I stood at the back behind the long rows of chairs quietly, still hunched over like a cripple, thinking that if I had a list of worst days of my life, today would probably be number one.
And then there was her. I'm not sure why she stood up, but I could see that she was heading my way, I froze, time slowed, she was slowing it down. Have you ever watch a movie, that frustrating feeling when you missed the face of a character that you know is going to be the centre of the entire freaking plot, the reason there's even a story? She was there, beside the lockers, leaning against the wall at the far corner, shaded, barely visible, so easily missed, but they're not, an aura that draws your attention for just the briefest moment and before you can look, the bell rings, she turns and disappears with the crowd, and you get up and go your own way, shrugging it off, thinking it was nothing, but the fact is there's already a mark left on you from her. So that was how it was with me, she walked pass me, I didn't see her face, she probably didn't see mine, all I saw was her frame, just a passing, a moment, just something, that really shouldn't mean anything, but it did, it was something, THAT something. And the door clicked behind me, like an annoying poet which never finishes anything he starts. All I hear after that are gasps, how befitting, but I was lost in that moment, the moment she had me, as much as I hate losing, somehow I knew right in that moment I've lost myself, trapped in that one moment forever by her.