ODE TO SLEEP

「010. contracts」

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     "ISAIAH, you need to come out of there. You haven't eaten in days."

I continued to ignore the banging on my door and the call of voices behind it. The handle would be jiggled, but with the dresser in front of it and it being locked, no one could get inside. I refused to leave my bed—I couldn't leave my bed.

I don't know how long I'd been laying here. My throat burned and my neck was achy. The bruises on my skin had only darkened the past couple of days, and I wasn't in any mood to do anything about the swelling. I just lay curled up in my sheets, ignoring the outside world.

Maddox, in the ten years I'd been living here, never once tried to harm me. He was usually pulling me away from any harm, whether it be from myself or others. If I freaked out during one of my episodes, he was there to make sure no one got the wrong idea and hurt me, or kept me from trying to kill myself.

I couldn't understand why he'd snapped so suddenly like that. I didn't even hurt Emerson. She told me that I didn't. I only disarmed Alejandro and knocked Valerie off her feet. Both of them could have recovered from that within seconds. But Maddox had grabbed me from behind and was using enough force to crush my windpipe.

"Isaiah?"

A soft, singular knock came at my door.

"Can I talk to you?"

For some reason, I found the strength to roll out of my bed. I sluggishly walked toward my door, shoving my dresser back into its original position. I grabbed the doorknob but stopped after I did.

"It's only me, I promise," She said. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

I twisted the handle slowly. I cracked open the door, finding her green eyes almost immediately. She flashed me a smile, motioning around her. I flicked my gaze around the empty hallway, before letting the door fall open. She pushed it open more, closing it once she was inside.

"Valerie said you haven't been eating," She said.

"I'm not hungry," My voice was raspy, probably from Maddox's actions.

Emerson shot me a concerned look. "Your throat looks horrible."

She reached up, and I reeled away before she could even get close. She sighed.

"Can I touch it?" She asked. "I just want to make sure he didn't damage anything in your neck."

"I'm breathing and talking, aren't I?" I quipped.

"Hardly," She mumbled, waving me toward her. "Now come here."

I stared at her for a moment. I swallowed hard, and it hurt. Emerson stepped toward me, her hands reaching for my throat. I tensed up, my hands shooting up to grab her. I stopped myself before I could, hovering my hands over her wrists. Her fingers brushed against my throat, her touch light, but still painful.

"Here," She retracted her hands from my throat, reaching into her bag instead. "Take these. They'll help with the pain."

"What is it?" I asked, cautiously holding my hand out. She placed two pills into my palm.

"Ibuprofen, 50 milligrams each," She replied. "It may not take it completely away, but it'll help some. It'll get some of that swelling down as well."

I placed the pills onto my tongue and swallowed them dry. "Why are you here?"

"As I said, I wanted to make sure you were okay," She moved toward my bed, fixing the messy array of comforters. "You should really eat something."

"I'll throw up if I eat,"