Sandwiched

I'm in the middle of editing a short film and a promotional video due tomorrow but here I am tonight, updating my poor blog which probably doesn't have more than a few readers. I know. I'm sick; I need professional help.

Below, written, is a part of my brain. I do not know how else to say it so I eventually resorted to this.

Leah swept her hair behind her ears and did not notice her brooding face taking over. Slowly she lifted her fingers to her head and felt her temples starting to throb. So far, she was having a bad day. Flipping a torn photograph on her hand, she stared at the almost faded face that had apparently knocked her socks off last year. Until now, she has no idea what happened. She's still in the phase she was in since last year.

"Problem?" Marie piped in as she strode towards the swing next to Leah's.

Leah listened for the usual tune Marie always whistled whenever they meet. She only heard the monotonous drill from a road construction a block away. Saturday had always been a good day for the both of them, but this time, it felt different. The air around them seemed heavy and still; it almost suffocated them. Wanting to break the silence, Marie smacked her gum and waited for Leah to speak. All they heard was the squeaking of the swings' hinges. Slowly, they rocked themselves back and forth and just stared ahead, although there was nothing else left to see aside from a few ancient-looking fountains and benches. Across them was the wooden bench the two of them had carved their names on when they were little. It felt like it had just been yesterday.

Leah drew a deep breath and dug her heel on the ground below her.

"Em, do looks really matter?"

Marie nearly choked on her gum that she had to spit it out. Glancing sideways at Leah, she giggled, before popping another stick of gum into her mouth. She sucked the gum and waited for the strawberry flavor to absorb itself all over her mouth. She always said it calms her nerves.

"Of course not, silly!" she laughed, giving her friend a playful smack on the arm. She wanted to make her friend laugh again, but Leah seemed to insist on her blank expression, while absentmindedly twirling her already curled locks that had tumbled down her shoulders.

"Hey," Marie mumbled. Leah curved her lips upward into a little smile. She knew Marie wouldn't stop badgering her until she said something.

"What would you do, Em, if your heart becomes blind to appearance?"

Marie stopped swinging and placed her palms on her lap. She was thinking. It wasn't usual for Leah to talk about serious matters. Times like this gave her thrills.

"That would be a good thing, wouldn't it?" she finally replied, pausing tentatively before nodding, as if agreeing to her own answer. "Nobody would care."

Leah dug some more of the soil beneath her sneakers.

"Wrong. The society does. Your family might. And you end up having a hard time."

"What do you mean?"

"You know. It's like the government telling you we're a free nation, but its norms and traditions still keep us bounded. It's pointless, isn't it?"

That was initial deflation. She realized, she needed to do more. She wanted to tell Marie the whole story, so she led her back home, to her small room, with that faded photograph clutched on her hand. And all she prayed for at that moment, was for Marie to understand.