Trent glanced at his flip phone, the old reliable BlackBerry, as he called it, and realized it was already a couple of minutes past 2 o’clock. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since he had left home. Trent slunk his way to the kitchen wearily, grabbed a random frozen meal from the mini-icebox on top of the fridge, and glanced over the instructions on the box. Don’t vent the wrap, heat for eight minutes, got it. He put the food in the microwave, set the timer for eight minutes as instructed, and watched the plastic container bearing his meal spin in the microwave. It was dizzying to watch, and as his exhaustion was higher than usual, he felt that his head was spinning. Looking away from the microwave, Trent’s mind drifted off to the friend letting him have a free vacation here:
Sharon. Once we were children and friends, and then, we parted ways like it was nothing. Though, that was my fault... Trent blinked at the wall across from him, dust-covered memories reentering his mind. Back then, you seemed wilder than how you are now, running around in tall grass with reckless abandon charging headfirst into trees, and defending me because you weren’t afraid of anyone or anything. You had black, messy hair back then and a stare so intense I thought for a while you could truly hurt me if you wanted to. I suppose you still can. Growing up didn’t make you any less brave.
If Trent had a mirror to look at himself, he’d have noticed the bright smile now present on his face. You dress and look different now, with somewhat neater blue hair, pink and violet clothes that never quite match right, and carry strength that could put anyone in their place. You changed, you grew up into an even better person than before.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
Slowly Trent’s smile faded away as if it had never been there in the first place. I’ve hardly changed since then. I still wear the same plaid shirts, just in a bigger size, I just have a bit of facial hair now, my hair is still short and I still remain the opposite of you. I was and am afraid of everything I can see and hear, I was and am too quiet, and too gentle, too something that I didn’t want to be and still ended up being because I couldn’t change. Is it really that I can’t change, or is it that I won’t change? You came to me first, just looking for a friend, but once I met you I decided that I wanted to know you better out of a foolish desperation that maybe your wild courage would rub off on me, that maybe I would be strong and maybe I would-
A violent cough exited from Trent’s lungs, distracting him and shattering the contemplative silence he was enjoying. I shouldn’t think about this anymore. Immediately after catching his breath, the microwave began to beep at him aggressively, and Trent was ready to eat his lunch.
Once he had finished eating, Trent cleaned up the fork he used, threw out the plastic the food had come in and made sure the dining table was tidy. For a moment, he realized there was a strange dull ache in his chest he hadn't noticed before, and then after a somewhat violent sneeze left his mouth, the feeling promptly dissipated. Trent’s eyes were drawn to the door in between the armchairs as he recovered from the sneeze, rubbing his sleeve against his nose. I should go look at the office, I completely forgot to check it earlier.