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Sander was half awoken by a touch on his shoulder. He didn't react and swam back into the blanket of sleep. He heard dimly his mother's voice, but he didn't open his eyes and didn't have the energy for it. Why care? What's to care about? Why even bother? He couldn't think of a reason. There was nothing, he could not felt anything. Just a hollowness inside of him. Just his body that was made of holes, he felt consumed from inside out. He was bone weary and he just wanted to sleep.

*

He opened his eyes and glanced tiredly at the clock: 6:05 PM. He tried to think through his listlessness. It must be Saturday. He didn't move and about to go sleep again, when his mother came in. She walked to the bed and sat.

"How are you feeling honey?"

Sander didn't say anything.

"You had slept the entire day. Let's eat something okay? I made soup, I will go and heat it right now."

She stood up and went away. She came back with a tray, and put them on the bedside table.

"Come on sweetie." Sander sat up slowly and she laid pilllows behind his back.

Sander's throat was so dry, he sipped some water, looked at the food and felt nauseous. His mom waited patiently and after a moment, he forced himself to scoop the soup and took it into his mouth. His mother was a good cook, but the food tasted like sawdust in water. He ate mechanically.

"Are you taking your meds honey?"

Sander didn't answer because he couldn't remember the exact time he last took his meds. But he also hadn't slept much for days. He couldn't bother to tell her that.

"Are you feeling up for school on Monday?"

Sander answered blandly, "What's the point?"

Her mom looked at him quietly but understandingly. Then she said gently, in a way, like she had said it often before, "You know why honey. You love your study, you love art, it's who you are."

It's who I am. But the words were just words, it didn't touch him. He nodded slowly and resumed swallowing.

"Tomorrow is Sunday anyway. We will see later. You don't have to go if you still don't feel like it."

Sander nodded again.

"I will tell Britt—"

"No!" Sander barked and then subsided. He was already tired again.

He said slowly, "I don't want to see her or anyone. Just no, mom."

She didn't look hurt by his tone. She knew how he got when he was low, that he didn't want to see anyone and just wanted to be left alone. A detached part of his mind knew that he was lucky, and that he loved her, even though he couldn't really felt it right now.

"Okay, I understand honey."

His mom waited for him until he took his meds and drank the warm milk.

Sander said, "Mom, don't tell Britt, please." Because his mom might still told her just so she would knew.

His mom looked at him, frowning slightly but Sander didn't have enough strength to explain or argue.

"Okay, I won't, don't worry."

Sander nodded and said, "Thank you mom."

His mom hugged him gently and kissed his hair before she went out.

Sander leaned on the pillows and closed his eyes. After some time, he opened it and sluggishly reached for his ipod. He clicked on a playlist that he named: Robin. They were the songs he had listened with Robbe together in the skatepark and he had compiled into a playlist. He lay back on the bed and sighed soundlessly.

Sander and Robbe, Minute by MinuteWhere stories live. Discover now