11
As I reached the door, Jason stopped me
again.
“Heather, you’re only a freshman. There are
plenty of opportunities.”
I turned, and he raised an eyebrow: “So you
can live your life the way you want.‘
Slightly stunned, I was about to speak.
He gave me a big smile: “I believe in you.”
I have to admit, his smile was infectious.
It felt genuine, warm, and uplifting.
Completely different from Elijah’s.
<
If Elijah lived in darkness,
then Jason basked in the sunshine.
Entering the ward, I saw Elijah again.
I didn’t know when he arrived.
He looked at me with malice and ill–will.
Yet with cautious flattery: “I came to return
your hair clip.”
His hand revealed my strawberry hair clip,
which I didn’t know when I’d dropped and he’d picked up.
It was broken beyond repair.
Just like our relationship.
The hospital entrance was bustling with
people, yet I stood still.
From what he said at the alleyway, I had a
guess.
He might have been reborn too.
I was just curious, curious about why he had
such a strong emotional reaction to me.
After much thought, I reached a conclusion:
<
Elijah was sick.
His love for Heather, who bullied him, proves
he has Stockholm syndrome.
His seeking me out shows he’s masochistic.
Or another explanation: he was eyeing the pot while eating from his bowl.
Under his expectant gaze, I didn’t reach out
to take it, simply saying, “Elijah, we’re just
classmates; you’re overstepping boundaries.”
For a moment, he froze, his lips pale, before
finally finding his voice, slightly choked: “Are
you going to throw it away?”
Suddenly, I remembered the past.
Before his talent was fully discovered, I
tutored, took part–time jobs, and used my
allowance to support his dream of entering
singing competitions.
After repeated setbacks, when everyone said
he was hopeless,
he saw me packing my bags, and he
<
collapsed, grabbing my hand, asking in a
trembling, hoarse voice, “Are you going to
leave me?”
Fragile, like he would shatter at a touch.
I went over and hugged him: “No, I won’t. I’m just going on a business trip. I’ll take you to see the world, help you walk from darkness into the light.”
And this time, under his hopeful gaze, I calmly said, “It’s just a broken thing. Throw it away.”
Elijah seemed to lose his support, nearly losing his footing.
As we passed each other, I said, “Don’t
bother me.”
