1023: Still-Untitled Month-Long Work of Fiction, Chapter 6

I sat down at the desk, and Laura plopped herself down in a chair across from me.

“Here,” she said, reaching into her bag and handing me a foil-wrapped lump. I tentatively unwrapped it and discovered a sandwich inside. It looked good — turkey and ham, accompanied by some lettuce and cucumber, with a drizzling of mayonnaise over the top. Simple but tasty. I took a bite and it made me all the more painfully aware that I hadn’t eaten properly since yesterday lunchtime.

“This is good,” I mumbled with my mouth full. Laura grimaced. I remembered that people talking with their mouth full bugged her, but it was already too late. She smiled and chuckled.

“I figured you could do with something nice,” she said. “But I can’t afford to buy you lunch every day. So you got this.”

“Thanks,” I said, making sure to swallow first this time. She took out another foil-wrapped package from her bag and unwrapped it to reveal another identical-looking sandwich. She started eating it, and we both sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the simple but comforting food and each other’s company.

“I–” I began, before realising that I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. Unusually for me, I felt like I wanted to actually talk about the things I’d been thinking and feeling, but found myself completely unable to express them. Where to begin? And was it even a good idea to bring it up? It was so much easier to just shoulder it all by myself, but–

“You…?” Laura replied, putting the last of her sandwich in her mouth and looking at me quizzically.

I paused for a moment, then figured I’d test the waters.

“I’ve… I’ve not been doing so great recently,” I said.

“I know,” said Laura gently. “It’s okay.”

“Well,” I said, “I’m not sure it is. I’m kind of worried.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Uh-huh. Is this anything to do with you working yourself to the point of exhaustion and scaring the crap out of me?”

“Partly,” I said. I hesitated. Where to go from here? “I’ve… Well, my mind has been going back to that time, you know?”

“Mm,” she said, leaning in a little closer. “Yeah. I’m not surprised. I can’t even begin to imagine how much it must hurt.”

This was probably the first time we’d actually had a serious conversation about all this. Laura knew how much I hurt, of course, because she’d borne the brunt of my irrational lashing out when I was at my worst. But we’d never really talked about it. It was always just implicit understandings and mutual avoidance of difficult topics. Today felt different, though. I felt like I’d opened the floodgates a little, and just behind them was a torrent of… what? Feelings? Emotions? Memories? Something was waiting to burst out, and I wasn’t quite sure I was ready for it.

“It does,” I said. “It does hurt. And I thought I was dealing well with it, but now I’m not so sure.”

She nodded and waited for me to continue.

“I’ve… I’ve been…” I faltered. I wanted to say that I’d been seeing things, that I’d been seeing my sister, but I just couldn’t. It just sounded too insane. I still didn’t know how she’d react, and I wasn’t quite ready to find out.

“You’ve been what?” she asked. She reached out her hand and took mine. “It’s all right.”

“I’ve just been… thinking about her a lot,” I said eventually. “My sister. Alice. I miss her.”

It wasn’t, strictly speaking, a lie. But there was enough padding between it and the actual truth to protect me from coming across as a complete madman. My eyes were stinging a little. I really didn’t want to start crying.

“I know you do,” she said softly. “And it’s okay. It’s okay to miss her.”

She stood up, walked around the desk and put her arms around my neck and shoulders from behind. I could feel the warmth of her body pressing against mine. It was comforting.

Something burst inside my head and I started to cry; big, gulping, undignified sobs. The emotions I’d been bottling up and keeping to myself were breaking through and crashing through the barriers I’d built up. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t tell Laura why I was putting on such an undignified display in front of her, but she didn’t seem to mind. She simply held me more tightly, but that just made me want to cry more.

After several minutes, the outpouring of emotion started to subside a little. Laura passed me a tissue that she’d produced from somewhere, and I wiped my tear-soaked face. She knelt down beside me.

“Did that help?” she asked quietly.

“Uh?” I said dumbly.

“Did that help? Letting all that out? You’ve clearly been bottling that all up for a while now,” she said. “I didn’t want to push you too hard because I figured you should probably come to that conclusion yourself. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you’re suffering. I wish I could do more for you.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, sniffing. I wiped my dripping nose with the now-sodden tissue. Laura passed me another one without a word.

“Are you all right for this afternoon?” she asked. “Or do you want me to take you home?”

I thought about it for a minute, and decided that I really didn’t feel up to the afternoon. I didn’t want everyone staring at me, even though I had a sneaking suspicion that no-one really gave a shit.

“Home,” I said. “Please.”

“All right,” said Laura. “Let me go sort some things out, then I’ll take you home. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” I said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. She smiled at me and walked out the door, closing it behind her. I was left alone in the classroom.

I leaned forward and rested my head on the desk, then closed my eyes for a moment. I took some deep breaths, trying as hard as I could to compose myself.

When I sat back up and opened my eyes again, I was confronted with an unwelcome sight. The lights in the room had gone off, and the muted background sound of students milling around the building at lunchtime had gone. I felt a crawling sensation on my spine as I recognised this strange phenomenon from what had happened before.

“Hello,” came an unfamiliar voice from somewhere behind me. “How are you feeling?”

I froze in shock. There was no-one else in this classroom a moment ago. Who was this?

“You know, it’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you.”

I closed my eyes. This wasn’t happening. I was not hearing voices. I was not hearing voices. I was not hearing voices.

“Fine,” said the voice, which was soft, gentle and oddly soothing despite the shivers it sent down my spine, yet now displaying the slightest hint of irritability. “Have it your way. This isn’t over. And eventually you’re going to have to face this head-on. But I can see now that you’re not ready yet.”

I said nothing. I was too afraid. I closed my eyes and screwed up my face. I wanted to cry again, but no tears would come.

I heard the door open. When I opened my eyes, Laura was standing there.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you home. You look like crap.”

It was a light-hearted jibe, but I was pretty sure it was the truth, too. I got to my feet and found that my legs were shaking. My heart was pounding. I was afraid. But Laura was here now. I could always rely on Laura. She’d keep me safe.

*

Laura stayed with me for several hours when I got home. We didn’t say anything to one another. I just lay on my bed and she sat on the side holding my hand, occasionally squeezing it a little more strongly to remind me she was still there. Her presence was a comfort. I didn’t want her to go away, but I knew she’d have to eventually.

That time came as the light was starting to fade.

“I’d better get home,” she said. “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay longer, but my folks will worry otherwise.”

“Okay,” I whispered, not moving.

“I’ll see myself out,” she said. “Take care of yourself.”

Then she was gone. I heard the front door open, then close again a moment later. I had no idea what time it was. I felt I should probably sleep, but it wasn’t happening. I closed my eyes and all I found myself doing was remembering that chilling voice from earlier.

“What the… what happened?” came a voice suddenly. I jumped and my heart began to race as I recognised the voice as Alice’s. “Whoa. You’re there. Again. This is… wow. This is messed up. I…”

She’d walked into my room. Or appeared from somewhere. I don’t know what had happened, but Alice was standing by the side of my bed looking at me with wide eyes. She didn’t look scared or tearful this time, just curious. She always was stronger than me.

I couldn’t move. This was all too much. I felt the weight on my bed shift as she sat down beside me.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?” she said. “I don’t know how it’s happened or why, but I’m glad I got to see you again.”

I turned my head to look up at her face. She was smiling slightly.

“I’m glad too,” I said quietly.

Her smile broadened a little.

Then, to my surprise, she simply disappeared. The weight on the side of my bed was gone, and that smile was gone too.

I sat up immediately and climbed out of bed.

“Alice?” I called. “Alice! Where are you?”

I got no response. She was gone. Once again, I was alone in an empty house. I was starting to get tired of constantly regaining and losing the things that were important to me. All I wanted more than anything else right now was some stability, but I had a strange feeling that I wouldn’t be seeing any of that for quite some time.

I flopped back down onto my bed face-down and closed my eyes.

I just wanted to sleep in peace. I just wanted all this to go away. How could I make it go away?

A dark thought crossed my mind, and not for the first time, but I pushed it back hastily as I always did. There was one way that all this could go away and I wouldn’t have to worry any more. But that was no way out. I couldn’t do that to the people who cared about me.

“The people who cared about me.” That implied there was more than one. But really, there was just Laura. I couldn’t bear the thought of making her cry again, though. So I couldn’t do… that.

I just wanted peace, though. Simple, pure, peace. Why couldn’t I be left in peace? Why couldn’t I just get on with my life?

“I can see now that you’re not ready yet,” the voice had said to me.

Ready for what?

That was the last thought I had before the world faded out and I succumbed once again to deep, exhausted sleep.