A storm in a teacup that’s what this bubbling warm sensation was inside of me.

Out of all the things going on in my life it was the most ittiest and bittiest worry and yet to control my rage from this boy was insurmountable for me.

He was my desk mate and in a class like mine, in a school like mine; you could never just get up and move. Which is ironic, that here he sits next to me and does whatever shenanigans he pleases and no one so much as speaks a word to him.

Maybe that meant something, no one talking to him or questioning him. Was he a bit abnormal up there?

I had only just started at Bastion Academy this year, but everything else seemed to be as routine as their informercials and entry test suggested: polished, disciplined, uptight, academically focused boys from grade seven to twelve.

So what exactly made Riley Terese the exception from all these expectations?

When a door closes, a window opens A narrow escape or a different perspective?

A change of pace, a change of weather

I step out and the sun shines A warmth spreading on my skin Two blocks down on my walk and my energy rises Now there’s a spring in my step

Suddenly a cold wind howls in my direction I use my arms to sheild myself, hold myself against the bite Striding, I stride faster to get inside before it pelts When I arrive at the cafe door, I come to find it’s locked

Underneath the shade I stand as the water begins to fall from the sky My day once warm turns into a thunderstorm, Leaving me wet faced with a discarded plan I pace and pace to wait this out Perhaps I should run to the nearest store, As to not be stuck here, for a moment more

A change of pace, a change of weather

I make a run for it It’s ice on my bones, my vision a blur My surroundings a chaos of muddled ponds reflecting back A sharp pain stabs my chest and I stop to catch my breath

Then it all suddenly stops, The rain drenches the world around me From before my eyes and my peripheral side Behind me a presence I realise and a canopy of black above A kind stranger with an umbrella, Takes me undercover I’m shielded from the storm

My cousins and I get together every winter holiday at our Grandmother’s estate in Shire Hills. It’s cold and the world outside has turned white. The adults are out, on work-business matters. We don’t mind, we thrive alone in a big house left for us to muck about. Playing and having fun, kid or teenager, it doesn’t matter, all togther. It’s like we’re reclaiming a childhood, whenever we gather togther; in this particular place, at this time of the year. It’s a certain atmosphere that’s short-lived but blissfully cozy.

We were lounging in the living room, throwing about suggestions of what could do. We finally all agree to indulge in a game of hide and seek. Classic sure but in this house this game will last a good while and is taken quite seriously. When the question of seeker is brought up, we all unanimously agree; the eldest should go first. Neil, lowers his head in resignation.

“Right, I’ll count to there minutes in the drawing room”.

Thus, we begin. We group up in trios and pairs. The little ones, the boys, the girls, the closest in ages. We run about in a frantic manner, keeping up that sense of thrill. Some of us go upstairs, some go for the closests in the hallways. Linda, James and I, head for the top of the top. Are we going to the balcony or the attic? We’re not quite sure. When everyone finally settles down in there hiding spots, the house is still and silent. The only possible sound is from hushed whispers and messages on our family group chats.

Except, this is where things take a turn, what happens now is something we cannot see, something we didn’t see. Our parents came home abruptly to a silent and lifeless home. What they perceived must of been they’re worst nightmare. For how they reacted next… let’s just say we all began to question who our parents really were after today.

Overheard in the library Two friends yapping with each other Book open, pens down
If I saw them in the library any other day I don’t think I would see them at all For they did not seem Inclined to bear their own silence But for the days they came, they came together Though they didn’t seem to get any work done There was always excited chattering to be expected

Overheard in the library A frantic tapping of keys One lone boy muttering Whispers of wonderings I wondered what he was typing I wondered if the key to his thinking His brain turning with ideas and words At a lightening speed Was tied with his solitude For he was on most days, alone

Overheard in the library Words of comfort Spoken from one librarian to the other They had spent almost everyday I was here -Which was quite frequent Working harmoniously together Checking in the books Helping the members And bickering on who had the more original idea For the display self Today was not most days as I overheard muffled sobbing But like most days her partner librarian Was right behind her, Today with whispering of ‘it’ll be okay’ And soothing rubs on her back Instead of her usual stack

I never knew how I would witness such glimpses Of other peoples lives Before I began visiting my preferred sitting spot Before I ever, overheard anything in the library