Yet the darkness was not a winter night at all, but the venomous stare of a young girl. Her golden hair reflected the sun, but her eyes showed her true character. She fixated her eyes on another classmate, one slouching in her seat in the corner of the room. She was singing softly to herself, nervously fiddling with a perfectly straight strand of black hair. golden hair clashed with black as the singing girl suddenly looked up, panic-stricken.
Her enemy was staring, her eyes cold with moonlight that did not shine on this bright autumn morn.
The black-haired girl bowed her head. Amanda.
Amanda was whispering something, a small sentence that made her counterpart giggle softly. Black-haired girl bowed her head, sinking even deeper into her seat. It was something about her. It had to be.
It always was, as it seemed. No one there to stand up for her. Just the notes and melodies spinning in head kept her company, giving her plain stare a spark of substance. Whether that was the cause for Amanda's jealousy or not did not matter. She was the innocent one, prayed upon by the evil one.
But who was the evil one in this battle?
For the third-grader, it did not matter. Just the hate that radiated from Amanda did.
Why? The black-haired girl wondered. Why me? Yet there was no true answer. But why couldn't the simple questions answer the seemingly simple situation?
The teacher was speaking, scolding someone for not paying attention. Amanda slumped a little, her facade broken for an instant. But it did not matter; her sadness mattered more.
But things are meant to change.
**
Elementary school faded. Middle school was a passing cloud. High school came with the dawn.
Nothing had changed.
The black-haired girl had her license, and was driving down the highway. A golden-haired girl in tattered clothes was on the side of the road, pleading for some act of kindness. Songs were playing on the radio, written by the black-haired girl herself. She was singing softly, her eyes on the road. She was not even paying attention to the side of the road, but was looking the other way.
Yet, by some coincidence, the black-haired girl turned. The golden-haired girl was wearing a sweatshirt with holes. It was nighttime, the time where darkness fell. In the light of the waning moon did the black-haired girl catch the tears on the other's face, drying with what looked to be fallen moonlight.
The darkness of night fell across the headlights of the car as the light became momentarily shattered.
Snow was falling around the golden-haired girl, yet its presence was only acknowledged. Her eyes were strained with hatred and sorrow.
It was the venomous stare of a young girl, her heart shattered beyond repair.
The black-haired girl stopped singing. The golden-haired girl stopped crying and shouting out in panic.
Both stared.
The black-haired girl bowed her head before turning away. Amanda.
Amanda was whispering something, a small sentence that could not be heard in howling of the wind or encouraged by a counterpart. Black-haired girl just stared again, forcing her eyes on Amanda.
More than anything, she wanted to drive away and leave the golden-haired girl there. This girl had to pay for all the teasing that had been uttered on Amanda's lips. She had to pay for the pain she had caused her, the black-haired girl.
Black-haired girl narrowed her eyes. Amanda had to be whispering something about her. Whether it was jealousy or not, she was not quite sure.
The songs black-haired girl had written were still playing in the background. If that were still the spark of Amanda's jealousy, it did not matter. Black-haired girl was the innocent one, prayed upon the evil one.
She turned on the ignition again, her foot ready to press onto the gas pedal.
But who was the evil one in this battle?
For the high-schooler, it did not matter. The sorrow the radiated from Amanda did.
She slammed my foot on the brakes. Why? The black-haired girl wondered. Why me? Yet there was no true answer. But why couldn't the simple questions answer the seemingly simple situation?
The voice within the black-haired girl was speaking, scolding her for not paying attention to the truth.
Amanda blinked, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She revealed her facade for an instant as her lips broke into a weak smile. The black-haired girl closed her eyes to hide her guilt. Her completely broken facade did matter; Amanda's pain mattered more at this time.
“Get in the car. We need to find you a place to stay,” the black-haired girl said.
Amanda shivered, her eyes glinting. If it were due to remembrance of the past or thankfulness, black-haired girl was not sure.
Her song hit its climax on the radio.
“You can use the blanket back there; you look cold.”
Amanda only nodded. Black-haired girl smiled.
Never in her life did the black-haired girl imagine her showing kindness towards her enemy.
But things are meant to change.
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