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I’m sorry, I don’t want to scream at you.

“You have your entire life in front of you, I promise you this is not forever.”

“What if I don’t want it nana,” I sob harder now. I can’t hear myself. Everything slips out now that I can’t hold this urge between my fingers. “What if I’m tired of surviving? What if I just want peace, I just want to be okay, but I can’t?

She pulls me closer, staining her clothes with my pain. Crimson trailing down her sleeves, her chest. I ruined her dress… “Listen to me. Seven minutes.”

I shake my head, crying so hard I can barely breathe. “I don’t want even more minutes.”

“You don’t have to want them, baby,” she says softly and her voice breaks. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. “Just give them to me.” I want to leave. I need to leave. "Seven minutes," she repeats. “Talk to me for seven minutes, and I’ll remind you why you stayed that long, Reya.”

“There isn’t a reason anymore,” I whisper, closing my eyes again.

Let it be painless.

For once, just let death be painless. Life is too tiring.

“I’ll find one. Trust me.”

She cups my face, forcing my eyes to meet hers. But it’s blurry. It’s painful. I feel weak, I feel… I feel like I’m floating.

“If you give me seven minutes, I get seven minutes to love you back.” A tear slips down her cheek. No, don't cry for me. Don’t do that… don’t make me feel guilty. “You don’t get to make this decision while you’re hurting this badly,” she whispers.

I can hear Milo knocking on the door. He doesn’t understand. He should never see me like this. I want him to remember me as a firefly too. Just like him. Not a cold body, not a broken sister.

“Not tonight. Tonight you stay with me.”

“Nana, sissy, I’m scared,” Milo screams behind the door.

I can’t leave him. I can’t leave. I’m his big sister. I promised I’ll be his big sister forever.

“Seven minutes…” I let out in a low voice.

Edna smiles, tightening her hold on me. “Seven minutes.”

“And then?”

My head falls on her shoulder. I’m tired. I’m too tired now.

“Then we take another seven.”

Seven minutes. Seven minutes and I’m already surviving the night.

54

Damien

Play - Diet Mountain Dew by Lana Del Rey

Difficult to Love

The library is empty at this hour, and I've been sitting here too long to say I just arrived. The file is in front of me, closed. I should be working, and I am, in bits and pieces, between two thoughts that keep returning to the same place without me understanding why.

The week was normal on paper. Classes, practices, reports, students, calls with my team to make sure everything is running smoothly there. And yet, there were moments when I slowed down for no reason. Hallways crossed more slowly than necessary. Doors I stared at a little too long. Overhearing conversations among her friends, wondering if I could even hear her name at least once to stop the worry I felt.

I didn't allow myself to text her right away. I waited for things to calm down, for things to take a logical form, but it never really did. The messages remained there, sometimes opened, sometimes closed without a reply.

She wasn't responding, and I shouldn't have looked for her. I told myself that clearly, several times. A professor doesn't turn this kind of thing into a personal problem, that's not how it works, and yet I did it without really meaning to.