“The youth are like leaves. We grow off of others, and then we fall. We descend, in hopes of rising to our peak, riding on the summer winds. Some of us make it, some don’t. Either way, we all will drift towards the ground, growing older and older, destined to not be around.”
-Kabi’s Journal
***
“We shouldn’t fall in love; we should just love, because everything that falls gets broken.” The pink banner hanging on the plain gray wall said. I’d felt as if it was a lyric of Taylor Swift’s but couldn’t confirm it in my mind. I hadn’t listened to enough of her songs to know whether it was true or not. The building was quite tiny, but it was nice. Reminded me of home, and smelled like apples and cinnamon. The rooms were lit up well, a great contrast to what was outside; just bleak skies and gray clouds. Smiling a little, I felt a bit welcomed, taking a plastic cup full of coffee from the wooden table to the right.
A rather warm grin from a girl who was about my height, and pretty, locked eyes with me, handing me some sort of book with a tassel hanging off the edge, suspended between the pages.
“Hello there, joining us for the club, or just the food?” She asked, stepping closer.
I couldn’t stop thinking about blooming red blossoms, with the scent of cherries wafting around the room. Just noticing the heavy bags that hung beneath her eyes, I bit my lip, wondering what stress she’s been dealing with lately. Or was it stress at all?
Taking the book from her open hands, and flipping through, I noticed all pages were blank. It was a journal. The cover was really quite lovely as well, in a rustic vibe, with cloth and material faded.
“A bit of both, I suppose.” I answered her earlier question. “Today I had the nerves to talk to new people.”
I don’t know what caused her to grin wider, but it definitely was not me. How could it be?
“So, the actual meeting starts in ten minutes, meaning you’re early. We don’t begin discussing philosophy and stuff until later, an hour before noon.” She glanced down at her blue watch, some sort of liquid stuck inside, as if there was a constant raining inside the glass. “Many times I’m here by myself, to clean up and get stuff ready and organize, and I sort of need a hand—being that I’m behind schedule.”
I nodded, slightly dazed by the idea of actually helping somebody else. I hadn’t done that in a while. As she whipped around and immediately started to clean, she tossed me a hair tie and a rag. “Get busy, yeah? Maybe you could start wiping the tables down.” Her smile dropped and her blonde hair fell messily around her face, as if a golden frame. “So, what’s your name?”
Immediately joining her at that table, I could not stop staring at her eyes. I hadn’t noticed how dark brown they were, giving me a sense of comfort for no apparent reason; they weren’t hazel, so I wasn’t quite sure why I admired them so much.
“My name’s Kabi.” I said. “What’s yours?”
“Sabrina. Not as unique as yours, I’m afraid.” Her delicate arms dropped to her sides, the tan skin blending well with the colors she wore, black jeans and a dark blue shirt.
“Why? Do you like your name?”
She didn’t say anything for a while, there was just screaming silence dancing between us. “No, not really; the name reminds me too much of a sunrise. And orange is my least favorite color.”
“It’s my favorite, actually.”
She paused for a moment/ “You’re one of those weirdos who have a thing for citrus, aren't ya?" Sabrina's eyebrows were furrowed, her hands pressed against the wooden table. Little light streamed through the windows and hit her face.
"Maybe not citrus, but definitely the entire aspect of brightness and hope, I suppose. I like the optimism it gives off, as well as that feeling of self-awareness. The color is a calling for action."
Looking at me oddly, she bit down on her bottom lip so hard I swore I saw red drip down until her tongue ran across it. Going back to her own chore, I just watched how articulate her moves were. Even when she bent down to clean the table, her feet were parallel with the world. Maybe I'd described the color too much, because she didn't say anything back to me. The hush was a bit punishing.
Moving to a different table I wiped the surface, but I didn't stop studying her. Her cheekbones were high, her skin tanned. She was average height, with long fingers and smaller eyes. Big ears, but something about her was outrageously beautiful anyway.
The small wooden door that I'd come through opened loudly, startling me. Outside was still the sad little city of Rochester. Cars were still rumbling outside and the fog was growing thinner since the time I'd arrived, and the skyscrapers were still scraping the skies. There was a thin, frail looking boy standing on the steps, his pale hands still seemingly glued to the door handle.
His eyes were huge, the color of lightly tinted blue glass. They scoured across the room desperately, and then his eyes caught onto mine. We both stared for a while. Not knowing what we felt, not sharing a small smile either. At least I didn't. I felt like a zoo animal, being analyzed by other heartless creatures, it was a cold and cruel feeling.
Sabrina, just noticing that he was here dropped her rag and grinned, wrapping her arms around him. There was a deep, emotional connection between them, and I didn't expect anything less. Sabrina turned and faced me, then intertwined her fingers with the pale boy's, leading him to where I stood; inaudible. As they both got closer I instantly noticed that the boy had a piney scent, surrounded by the musky smell of smoke and cigars. His cheekbones were prominent and his jawline was smooth. His hair was so light of a blonde; some might've mistaken it for silver.
"This is Kabi, Oscar. Oscar, this is Kabi," Sabrina said, and then turning back to the boy she seemed so fond of. "In fact, Kabi was helping me this morning."
Oscar nodded, not saying much. And I'd thought that I didn't speak enough. With the slight wave of his hand, he greeted me, and then smiled sternly, nothing tugging at the corners of his pale lips. I did the same, respectfully.
***
Writing away the clouds
some sort of book with a tassel hanging off the edge, suspended between the pages.
“Hello there, joining us for the club, or just the food?” She asked, stepping closer.
I couldn’t stop thinking about blooming red blossoms, with the scent of cherries wafting around the room. Just noticing the heavy bags that hung beneath her eyes, I bit my lip, wondering what stress she’s been dealing with lately. Or was it stress at all?
Taking the book from her open hands, and flipping through, I noticed all pages were blank. It was a journal. The cover was really quite lovely as well, in a rustic vibe, with cloth and material faded.
“A bit of both, I suppose.” I answered her earlier question. “Today I had the nerves to talk to new people.”
I don’t know what caused her to grin wider, but it definitely was not me. How could it be?
“So, the actual meeting starts in ten minutes, meaning you’re early. We don’t begin discussing philosophy and stuff until later, an hour before noon.” She glanced down at her blue watch, some sort of liquid stuck inside, as if there was a constant raining inside the glass. “Many times I’m here by myself, to clean up and get stuff ready and organize, and I sort of need a hand—being that I’m behind schedule.”
I nodded, slightly dazed by the idea of actually helping somebody else. I hadn’t done that in a while. As she whipped around and immediately started to clean, she tossed me a hair tie and a rag. “Get busy, yeah? Maybe you could start wiping the tables down.” Her smile dropped and her blonde hair fell messily around her face, as if a golden frame. “So, what’s your name?”
Immediately joining her at that table, I could not stop staring at her eyes. I hadn’t noticed how dark brown they were, giving me a sense of comfort for no apparent reason; they weren’t hazel, so I wasn’t quite sure why I admired them so much.
“My name’s Kabi.” I said. “What’s yours?”
“Sabrina. Not as unique as yours, I’m afraid.” Her delicate arms dropped to her sides, the tan skin blending well with the colors she wore, black jeans and a dark blue shirt.
“Why? Do you like your name?”
She didn’t say anything for a while, there was just screaming silence dancing between us. “No, not really; the name reminds me too much of a sunrise. And orange is my least favorite color.”
“It’s my favorite, actually.”
She paused for a moment/ “You’re one of those weirdos who have a thing for citrus, aren't ya?" Sabrina's eyebrows were furrowed, her hands pressed against the wooden table. Little light streamed through the windows and hit her face.
"Maybe not citrus, but definitely the entire aspect of brightness and hope, I suppose. I like the optimism it gives off, as well as that feeling of self-awareness. The color is a calling for action."
Looking at me oddly, she bit down on her bottom lip so hard I swore I saw red drip down until her tongue ran across it. Going back to her own chore, I just watched how articulate her moves were. Even when she bent down to clean the table, her feet were parallel with the world. Maybe I'd described the color too much, because she didn't say anything back to me. The hush was a bit punishing.
Moving to a different table I wiped the surface, but I didn't stop studying her. Her cheekbones were high, her skin tanned. She was average height, with long fingers and smaller eyes. Big ears, but something about her was outrageously beautiful anyway.
The small wooden door that I'd come through opened loudly, startling me. Outside was still the sad little city of Rochester. Cars were still rumbling outside and the fog was growing thinner since the time I'd arrived, and the skyscrapers were still scraping the skies. There was a thin, frail looking boy standing on the steps, his pale hands still seemingly glued to the door handle.
His eyes were huge, the color of lightly tinted blue glass. They scoured across the room desperately, and then his eyes caught onto mine. We both stared for a while. Not knowing what we felt, not sharing a small smile either. At least I didn't. I felt like a zoo animal, being analyzed by other heartless creatures, it was a cold and cruel feeling.
Sabrina, just noticing that he was here dropped her rag and grinned, wrapping her arms around him. There was a deep, emotional connection between them, and I didn't expect anything less. Sabrina turned and faced me, then intertwined her fingers with the pale boy's, leading him to where I stood; inaudible. As they both got closer I instantly noticed that the boy had a piney scent, surrounded by the musky smell of smoke and cigars. His cheekbones were prominent and his jawline was smooth. His hair was so light of a blonde; some might've mistaken it for silver.
"This is Kabi, Oscar. Oscar, this is Kabi," Sabrina said, and then turning back to the boy she seemed so fond of. "In fact, Kabi was helping me this morning."
Oscar nodded, not saying much. And I'd thought that I didn't speak enough. With the slight wave of his hand, he greeted me, and then smiled sternly, nothing tugging at the corners of his pale lips. I did the same, respectfully.
***
18