Weak weeks

35.

I lay feeble in bed, sleep my only salvation. Dreams are my only comfort. I've learned to tell time from how the sun cast an arc over the floor of my room. Mom moved around the house like a lost soul. We didn't talk much. At breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyone was silent. I was certain they knew what was going on when no question came to poke me.

Grandma Esme visited me often along with Aunt Alice. Others were cautious to stay away but send their greetings. They thought they could cheer me up with gifts. It did little. One of the girls from my previous school, Reka Singh contacted me via social media. It's mostly her talking about her love life and how everything was going back at Keera Elite School for the gifted.

I miss him—terribly.

I tried to focus on my hobby—reading. I read I get distracted, I forced myself to stay on track but my mind wanders. I'm with him running in the woods, my body floating between the trees. Sometimes I feel the pull of our link. Sometimes I cry at night.

I worry. Is he ok? How is he doing? Is he eating properly? Does he think about me?

Time passes. I think of the future—the past—the what if's. I don't know in what tense I should be thinking anymore. Past. Present. Future. Everything is mixed up inside my head.

Dad is concerned.

I'm drifting. I'm a shell. I'm scared.

I am fading.

My cellphone chimed, it pulled me back from the darkness. I groaned as I rolled on my side and grabbed it. My eyes hurt when I looked at the small screen. It was a message from Reka.

"Hey, zombie girl. Come over to Denis'. I'll buy you some ice cream. It's on me"

I smiled at my phone. I sort of told her my boyfriend left town and that we were taking a break from each other. Since then, she often invited me out and I always decline. I raised on one elbow. My hair was a mess and I was wearing the same pajama since yesterday. The one with the green dinosaur Grandma Rene sent. I typed a quick reply.

"Ok, pick me up in 20 mins"