Help me

Aerith stared blankly at her phone, the weight of Jake's message pressing down on her chest. She had wanted to feel relief when his name popped up, to believe that everything was fine, just like he said earlier. But the words on the screen felt cold, distant—just enough to keep her from spiralling completely, but not enough to chase away the growing doubts in her mind.

She hugged her knees tighter, the gnawing sense of isolation creeping over her like a thick fog. The longer she stared at the message, the more it seemed to mock her. "Maybe tomorrow."

*Always tomorrow. Never today. Never now. *

Her hands trembled as she picked up the phone again. She wanted to throw it, to hurl it across the room and watch it shatter. But what good would that do? It wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't make Jake care more. It wouldn't bring back her friends or make her feel like she belonged.

Aerith took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. *Don't overreact,* she thought. *He's just busy. That's all. He's got football and exams—he's stressed, that's it. You're overthinking this.*

But the hollow feeling in her chest wouldn't go away.

She typed out a reply, her fingers moving quickly over the keys: "That's fine. I get it. Talk tomorrow :)", She added the smiley face at the end, even though her face didn't come close to resembling it. It felt wrong and fake, but she didn't want him to think she was upset. The last thing she needed was Jake to think she was too clingy, too needy.

When the message was sent, Aerith dropped the phone on her bed again, pulling her knees even closer to her chest. She felt so small like the world was pressing in on her from all sides. The phone, her bed, the walls around her—it all seemed to shrink, suffocating her with the weight of her loneliness.

The memory of Jake's hug earlier flashed in her mind, the way he had held her, kissed her forehead, and promised that everything was fine. He had made her feel safe and secure. But now that he wasn't there, the safety vanished. It was like she was trapped in a constant cycle of doubt and reassurance, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break free.

*Why doesn't he want to see me tonight?* she wondered, her mind spiralling again. *What's so important that he can't even make time for me?*

The thought of Hazel crept back into her mind, uninvited. She remembered the way they had laughed together, the way Jake had looked at her, the ease with which they had interacted. It was stupid, she knew it was stupid, but the image wouldn't leave her alone. Every time she closed her eyes, it was there, taunting her, making her question everything Jake had said.

*He said Hazel means nothing. He said I'm the one he wants.*

But words were just words. Aerith knew that. She could feel it, deep down, in the pit of her stomach—that nagging sensation that something wasn't right. Maybe Jake wasn't lying, not exactly, but he wasn't telling her the whole truth either. And that hurt more than anything.

Her thoughts swirled, chaotic and overwhelming. She tried to focus on something else, anything else, but the silence of the room only amplified the noise in her head. She picked up her phone again, scrolling through her contacts, desperate for someone to talk to.

*Lola? No, she's busy. Hazel?* The thought made her sick. *Holden?*

But they had all brushed her off. They didn't care. Or maybe they were tired of her. Maybe they didn't want to deal with her constant worrying, her constant need for reassurance. Aerith couldn't blame them—sometimes, she didn't want to deal with herself either.

Her finger hovered over Zephry's name. She hadn't spoken to her since that brief, unsettling encounter earlier, but a strange sense of curiosity tugged at her. Zephry was always so quiet, always so distant. Aerith had never understood her, never tried to. But now, in this moment of isolation, she wondered if maybe Zephry felt the same way—like she didn't fit in like she was always on the outside looking in.

She didn't know what possessed her, but before she could stop herself, Aerith sent a simple text, "Hey."

The message felt awkward, and strange, like it didn't belong. But she sent it anyway, her heart pounding as she watched the screen, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Minutes passed, and nothing. No reply.

Of course, she hadn't expected Zephry to respond. But the silence, the lack of any connection, only deepened the ache in her chest.

Aerith tossed her phone onto the floor this time, feeling the frustration building inside her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything to release the tension that was coiling tighter and tighter around her heart. But instead, she sat there, her hands gripping the edges of her blanket, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

She was alone.

And the worst part was, she couldn't even tell if it was all in her head, or if everyone around her was pulling away.