Not My Closet by Aria Storm

Author:Aria Storm [Storm, Aria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-04T23:00:00+00:00

 Fifteen:

  “If I have to hear one more emo song, I will poke my eardrums out!”

  Kara professed with all the seriousness of a toddler mid fit.

  “What do you mean, emo?! My Chemical Romance isn’t emo, this is more like soft-core metal!”

I defended my Bullet for My Valentine song as if personally affronted by Kara’s accusation. She sniffed and rolled her bright eyes at me. I could tell she was just trying to rev me up. I had forgotten how she gets on lengthy road trips. We had not been in a car together this long in so many years, like everything else to do with us.

  “Metallica is metal, this is basically emo with screams here and there!”

  Kara argued emphatically. I puffed up in frustration. There was no winning with her when she was combative, I knew it. However, my alpha persona did not allow me to give up. Kara seemed to tweak this side of me, drawing out the grumpy girl within. She had always been one to grind every gear I possessed.

  Inquisitive and narrowed green eyes beheld me fondly. She seemed to be so ardent in her rebuttals, but she was mellow still. She looked on me with a calm and curious gaze, like she was still trying to riddle me out. Her gaze only served to further vex my mood. Her eyes burned holes into my soul, melting back the tundra of frozen, petrified emotions lost to time. I barely recalled feeling so profoundly, like new layers of colors and textures suddenly added into my world.

Every sense seemed to be heightened to eleven. My mind spun up like the supercharger on my Civic. Ex’s never bothered me before today. Heck, most of my exes are still friends. I lack that gene that makes me feel as though I must hate or slam the woman that relationships didn’t pan out with. Mostly, I believe I was always too distant to truly allow anyone to possess a part of my soul. Not since Kara at least.

  The problem with soul attachments, they still come back to you, even after fourteen years. You still remember everything. You still feel all the endless myriad of thoughts and feelings towards that person.

  The heart is shaped in desires so primal we lack the intellect to properly divest ourselves of these basic instincts. Nor to wholly deduce how these connections exist at all. Beyond pain, far clear of the shame, there are vibrant emotions that swell in me when I least expect them. The hidden rises. Kara’s eyes shine brighter than all the luminance of the noon sun high in the sky.

  This is something that haunts me, perplexes me, and consumes all of me. Like I am my haunting. I am the living dead. Experiencing life suddenly becomes a chore, or some ill prepared or ill-explained adventure.

  “Whatever, you can pick the next ones then.”

I said, conceding to her. Kara make a whooping sound and she fished through my smartphone.

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