Through Tragedy, I Found You

Gerard's POV

I was never devoted to routine. I didn't have a set time to awaken, no instinctual morning ritual; nothing ever occurred the same twice in my life. And then there was that one exception. There was one thing I wore every single day. Rain or shine, hot or cold, good or bad; I always wore it.

It was a mask.

A mask that held my secrets, my past, and my future. No one would ever bother to remove that mask, for what is underneath is horrifying. Deadly.

"Wake up, Satan," an employee spat out, pushing my shoulder heavily. My eyes darted open. And then the truth hit me harder than Katrina: I'm still alive.

Cringing, I continue to sketch for the newspaper's articles. I nonchalantly dragged my overworked fingers to the box of ink to refill my art utensils. A university student nudged at me to move over, and I did politely.

Ms. Darrell smiled with anticipation once evaluating my work. Her eyes, an icy blue, demonstrated kind consideration as she pulled a strand of blonde hair from her face.

"What a beautiful mocking jay," she commented, directing my attention to the bird I drew.

You don't know the half of it, I thought.

I pushed my thoughts behind me. "Thank you," I forced a smile.

Mentally, I readjusted my mask so it was more realistic. Perfect.

I continue my work without a word.

Notes

please tell me if I should continue c: