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Her nimble fingers danced across the keyboard with such fire and passion, you would think that whatever she was doing— she was born to do it.
But yet, every time that thought worms it’s way into her brain, she freezes up, and sets aside whatever thing that she had been doing, whatever thing that had made her happy, and moves onto the next thing.
You could say she was scared, yeah, of course she was, this was her future she was thinking about.
But the thirteen year old knew that she had to think of it soon, as the magical number eighteen was looming over her like a dark shadow, ready to snatch up her childhood innocence like it had to so many other people.
She didn’t know what went wrong in her life to make her like this, maybe it was the fact that she’s lived in seventeen homes in her thirteen years of living, maybe it was having to leave all her friends who were like her family behind, off to a new state, a new life.
Maybe it was when her dad had seizures for two and a half years of her childhood, making her grow up way too fast as she had to be there for her little sister, becoming like another parent to her if you will.
Maybe it was losing her friend to a few cookies, making her realize that maybe she hadn’t really been a friend after all.
Maybe it was watching her dog die after almost ten years.
She didn’t know, but all she knew was that she missed the old her.
The happy, innocent her, full of life and had every single little detail planned out for her future, right down to the dates.
Now, she felt like she had played her part well, a quiet reserved teenager doing whatever her parents told her.
But on the inside, she was a mess.
She laid alone on her bed, thinking back to the things that once were.
She didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life, sure, she had hobbies, writing, Minecraft, and she did want to create a YouTube channel showing that, but when did she have the time for it?
All the time, really.
But yet she still put it off, throwing half of her energy into things, just trying to make it through the day so she could lay in bed at night thinking about all the things that she had fucked up in her life.
When had her perfect life slipped through her fingers?
When had she smiled last— a genuine one, not those half hearted smirks she had peppered throughout her days.
When had she laughed until she cried last?
She couldn’t even remember.
She couldn’t remember anything at this point.
She stumbled through life, through her days, thinking of what could have been.
People say you shouldn’t reminisce on the past, you should learn from it.
But Kayla couldn’t help it.
She made the same mistakes, over and over.
She tried to change, tried to be more laid back and let life pass her by.
But she couldn’t help holding onto the mistakes she’d made.
Would she be the same person if she didn’t let what Bella had said that day bother her?
Would they still be friends?
Those thoughts always were at the back of her mind, eating her up from the inside out.
Then she remembered her fight.
Well— it wasn’t really a fight; at least Kayla didn’t think it was.
It was the one time in six years that she had let something get to her.
And it was over fucking cookies.
It pissed her off that she had let something like that get to her again.
But as she always said, food over friends, which she had always taken as a joke, but did she really believe it deep down?
She was sitting on her uncomfortable desk chair, still alone, thinking about 9/11.
Those people went through so much, and yet she was complaining about some stupid cookies?
She made herself sick just thinking about it.
She wished she could be strong, and stubborn, and say whatever she thought, and annoy people with her obnoxiousness.
But life doesn’t always go the way you want it, and Kayla was tired.
Tired of pretending that things weren’t weighing her down.
She wanted to move again.
Move away from her problems and start fresh, a clean slate.
But she knew that wasn’t happening any time soon.
She wanted to have a purpose in life, be apart of something and make friends.
She wanted to join the Civil Air Patrol.
She begged her parents, pleaded with them, but nothing would sway their decision.
So instead she opted to lay in her bed, and play Minecraft and watch shows at ungodly hours.
If her parents wanted to complain about her lazy habits, they can speak to themselves, or preferably, someone to get her into CAP.
Guess she still had that stubbornness and determination left in her after all.
You could say it was childish, for someone to be so hung up on something like the Civil Air Patrol to go to such lengths.
But she could see herself.
She could see herself there, shaking with anxiety as her heart pounded in her ears, chest tightening.
But then she would see Lilliana, happily waving at her, and all of the nerves would go away.
Because she wasn’t a leader, she wasn’t a leader of any sort.
She was a follower, and that’s what she wanted to do.
She wanted to be there, apart of something like CAP, and make friends, walk in Angier for the 9/11 ceremony, fly a plane.
That thrill and that rush of adrenaline to push herself to take part in things, to have conversations with other people.
Thoughts of what could have been raced through her head every day, especially when it came to the Civil Air Patrol.
But nothing happened in her life, she went on with her life, never showing that her hopes and dreams were crumbling, eating her up inside.
But she didn’t run away from this dream, and she hoped she never would.
Because the Civil Air Patrol is where she longed to be, and if she wasn’t there there would always be that ache inside of her, that longing that told her that something wasn’t right.
Because it wasn’t.
She fell into the routine again, get up, schoolwork, hide from the world and wallow in her sorrows and mistakes over, and over, and over.
Would she ever break free?
Would she ever get that feeling that she belonged somewhere?
Kayla didn’t know, and she didn’t think she ever would.