1 If Only

Sevannah could no longer tell if it was still day or night. Or how long had she imprisoned herself in that cold, colorless room. Like a nocturnal beast with dilated pupils, she could already see in the dark. How remarkable our eyes were, she thought, trying to reach her favorite singer's poster with her foot. It was glued on the wall, just right above her head. How great thou art, Maker of heaven and Earth, she murmured again and again.

Stretching her right leg as far as she could, her ass lifted an inch above the bed, she finally reached the poster, pinching its bottom-left corner with her toes. She tried to pull it off the wall but it wouldn't budge.

"Let go you motherfucker!" She exclaimed before pulling it off one more time with all her remaining strength. Her foot landed with a bang on the edge of a wooden desk set at the foot of her single-sized bed.

Four empty beer bottles rolled to the floor one by one. Crash. Crash. Crash. Crash.

"Dammit," she cursed, started by the sound. And the torn corner of the poster flew across her face.

"My god, Eva! Are you alright?" Her stepdad's voice boomed from behind the door. He was knocking then twisting the knob in utter panic.

"Eva! I swear I'm gonna break this goddamn door if you don't answer me!" He yelled, twisting the knob furiously.

"I'm fine!" Sevannah yelled back, still sprawled on the bed, rubbing her aching ankle on the blanket. So she wasn't alone in the house then. She thought everyone went to to the final service. Could it be--

The twisting noise stopped. "Open the door, Eva. We need to talk." Warren spoke softly.

"Just broke some bottles, dad. I'm okay, please leave me alone!" She yelled, trying to control the frustration in her jagged voice.

There was silence for a while before Warren tried again, "At least eat something, please? I know-- I know it's hard, sweetie. I know how much you love him but I, we, love you too. It hurts us to see you like this. Please, please try, Eva. Please try." He begged.

Another minute of silence.

Sevannah forced her heavy self up and walked to the door. She unlocked then opened it. Light rushed into the bedroom, blinding her eyes. She couldn't look straight to her stepdad, the brightness was killing her.

She stepped back a little as Warren scanned her all over for bruises or wounds. He wouldn't admit it but after everything that happened, he was frightened of what her daughter could do to herself.

He tried to smile, trying to ignore Sevannah's puffy, swollen eyes. She didn't need scolding; she needed someone who understands her, he thought.

"If Zary's here, you know he'll tell you to stop punishing yourself. It's not your fault." Warren told Sevannah just when her eyes were slowly adjusting to the light.

"No, dad. If Zary," Sevannah paused, a lump forming in her throat. "If he's still alive, he will never forgive me for the rest of his life."

Her eyes ached but not a bead of tear fell down. The well had dried up too soon. There was nothing left. Nothing.