Pain Killer

23 ~ Beige

"Can we talk?" I stand sheepishly by the door with my backpack in my hands between us like a shield.

"I don't really want to talk right now." Martha turns away from me, scrubbing mercilessly at the bowl in her soapy hands. "I have a ton of work to do, so I won't be able to make dinner." Her flannel shirt is more wrinkly than usual.

I bite my lip, utterly exhausted from the day. I want to lie down on the floor right where I stand. The sleepiness makes my eyes watery, or maybe it's my conversation with Uri yesterday, or the panic attack I had to experience by myself till my aunt found me bleeding all over her bathroom. Her reflected hurt was aimed back at me with just a few sharp words. They cut deeper than any knife could sink into my wrist.

She didn't mean it but for some reason, it still hurts. I was hoping she would tell me, just once more, that she still wants me.

My head was too full to see her yesterday. We avoided each other for the most part, only saying what was necessary. I spent most of my time at the library and came home after she was in bed. But I don't want this to last any longer. I want my aunt back.

"Do you want me to make grilled cheese sandwiches?" I ask her back.

Martha pauses with her scrubbing. Tendrils of hair fall over her face out of her sagging ponytail. "No thanks, I'm not hungry." The last dish is put in the drainer. She wipes her hands and goes to her office, shutting the door with a quiet click.

And that was the last we saw of each other. The next morning, she left early for work.

I go to school, trying in vain to look for Uri, even calling a few times but maybe his phone is still silent. I don't even see Agatha and the forlorn emptiness inside me becomes suffocating. Is it all in my head? Am I just being a clingy mess to everyone?

Several times, I contemplate calling Martha to ask her to pick up ice cream so we can talk. The farthest I get is staring at her name in my contacts.

...

With another exhaustingly long day behind me, I climb the stairs and unlock door 103. As I close it, the living room and kitchen go dark.

A text brings my attention to my phone where I see an unknown number. It simply states, "Delilah, it's dad. I hope us having Dalia didn't..."

I pull my eyes away from the screen, shut it off, and toss it on the coffee table. I can't even finish reading it.

They're still trying. To do what? It was clear that they didn't want me. But it makes me wonder why they went so far as to ask me to come home.

Was it to show off the new replacement? The girl that can do so much better than me? Superior in every way, from hair color to eye color, to personality; Dalia has me beat.

A picture of David and Caroline's smiling faces with the baby in between makes me tremble with uncertainty and... hopelessness.

A chill overtakes my bones as if I were still outside, waist-deep in a cold river.

I stand still, lost in this apartment, not knowing where exactly to go. I can't seem to put my backpack down. The humming refrigerator begins to overwhelm me with its consistent thrum.

I enter my bedroom and close the door, hoping that it will all go silent, but as my forehead leans against the wood, the noise of traffic breaches the walls. My teeth clench. I don't know how to let go.

My backpack falls and I pull off my coat, getting dizzy from my ceaseless thoughts. The walls begin to shrink around me, the air growing thick and hazy as if polluted.