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She studies me for a second, then she nods. “I’ll be here.”

The hallway is darker, voices echo behind the doors, a mix of laughter and swearing. I push into the bathroom and I see three girls inside. One of them is leaning over the sink, the other is cutting lines, and the other is still dancing to the music we can hear from here. The one cutting lines glances up when I step in and smiles. “You want some?”

I should say no, I know I should. Instead, I hear myself laugh. “What’s one more line, right?”

She grins wider. “Exactly.”

The powder is bright under the bathroom light. My fingers don’t even shake when I take the rolled bill. I lean down, inhale, and for a second everything stops. Then it hits, fast and violent. It’s perfect.

My chest tightens, then expands, like I’ve been suffocating my whole life and someone finally decided to let me breathe.

The world changes into something electric, I feel warmer, not cold anymore, everything is so clear, the noise fades as my thoughts scatter before disappearing completely. And just like that, I’m not me anymore. I’m okay.

“See?” the girl says beside me, already lining up another. “Told you.”

I laugh again. “I needed that.”

Needed.

Because it’s been a fucking medicine. Because I always thought it was saving me.

I grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection, my pupils are blown wide, my lipstick is smudged. I don’t look like me. I look like someone who doesn’t care about anything. Someone who would leave her little brother behind without a second thought.

“I—” My voice breaks. I turn away from the mirror, pressing my hands to my eyes like I can push the image out of my head.

“Hey,” one of the girls says, softer now. “You good?”

I nod. “Yeah.” But my throat tightens, because I know this feeling. The crash always comes early for me. My body doesn’t even want to pretend this is sustainable. I wish it did.

I don’t go back to Hayzel right away. The girls get out already dancing and I stay there. Leaning against the cold tile, floating somewhere between too much and not enough, between numb and breaking.

And there, in this blurry state of mind, I wonder what would happen if I stayed like this, if I never went back. If I let this version of me, the one who doesn’t feel, doesn’t think, doesn’t remember win. I feel sick to my stomach, but I also miss the feeling of being wanted.

But then I hear Hayzel’s laugh getting closer as she calls my name, and it cuts through everything. So I push myself off the wall, wipe under my eyes, and fix what I can.

Then I step back into the noise.

Because nothing happened and I’m still not someone worth saving.

94

Damien

Play - Flawless by The Neighbourhood

Memories and Melancholia

The cold presses hard against the windows of the massive gymnasium, frost already covering up half of them. It is cold here, on top of the cliff. That’s why we need to teach them how to adapt even if most of them are going to complain about it.

Fluorescent lights shine over our heads as every pair of students start to align in front of their designated instructor. The gym is limited by zones, mine is on the left.

Close-quarters combat under cognitive load. A cold place, heavy lights and no mattress to help. Thinking while fighting, deciding the next move when your stress levels are high is important and I should be focused on it.

Instead my eyes wonder until they find her. I hate how easy it is to see her in any room and still feel like I have lost her. It’s instinctive now, my eyes search for her every time. She’s standing next to her designated instructor for today like nothing happened. Like she didn’t wake up on my couch with blood on her skin and fear buried so deeply in her eyes that I still see them when I close mine.

I spent days after that telling myself that giving her space was the right thing to do but she didn’t even give me a choice. When I came back home the next morning she was gone.

The blankets were still where she had been lying, the glass of water I left beside her was still untouched, everything looked the same. Apart from the star she left on my desk. Perfectly folded, ink spilling from the center but I couldn’t read the word. I did what she probably wanted me to do. I threw it after making a wish, and let her be.