The ghoshts of friends

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Ashley. 

I stare at the reflection of the pregnant elephant in the mirror that resembles me a little too much.

Everything I've tried on makes me look absolutely terrible. Nothing fits, no combination makes me like myself. The more combinations I try, the more clothes I take out, the worse I feel.

The attempt to dress up went to oblivion after the second try. Now I'm just searching for clothes that I'll feel comfortable in. And that will make me look my age, not too old, not too young, but for once, like the teenager I am.

Eventually I go for the well-known classic that always has your back – blue jeans with a white top. My hair falls down my shoulders in soft waves that I made this morning. I do my makeup lightly.

Elena comes into my room. She looks around with raised eyebrows.

"I know, I know," I say as I start to pick up the clothes. "Don't ask."

"I just came to ask you if you were ready."

"I'll be down in five," I smile at her and continue picking up clothes from the floor. I won't be down in five minutes; I won't make it.

I randomly fold my shirts and jeans and just put them on my bed. It looks terrible, but better than before. I was raised to always have my room cleaned and everything in its place, but today isn't the best time to keep that in mind.

I quickly throw some things in my purse. My phone, my wallet, my make-up bag, which I go through one more time to make sure I have everything, bubble gum, sunglasses, and a hand sanitizer just in case.

As I'm closing the door, I get a strange feeling I've forgotten something. I scan the room once more, double checking I've left no items on the bed or desk. I do have everything I need; I reassure myself. I close the door and hurry to my father's office. He notices me walking in, but doesn't pay much attention to me. So when I ask him for one of his credit cards, he just nods.

When I make it to the bottom of the stairs, it hits me. I've forgotten my pills. I usually always have them with me, stored at the bottom of my bag. I try to fight the temptation to walk back up and get them. I stand there for a solid three minutes, contemplating what to do, when I curse under my breath and run up the stairs.

I don't necessarily have to take them, but I just have to know I have them in my purse. I need to know that if I'd need them, they'd be there. It's the worst feeling of reassurance I've ever felt. I feel so scared and ashamed when I put them in my purse. As the days go by, I'm becoming more and more addicted. To the need of having them close more than to what they actually provide me.

********

Throughout the whole car ride I remain silent. The life outside the window is much more interesting than participating in Elena and Clark's conversation. I can't shake off the feeling of guilt and fear. The more I keep on overthinking it, the more scared I'm getting that someone might very soon find out the truth.

"Ashley. Ashley." Elena calls out my name a couple of times before I pay her attention. I apologise for zoning out. "I asked my niece for some recommendations, and she offered to give us a tour. She'll be joining us for the night, if you don't mind."

A smooth move, Elena, I think to myself. With a smile I nod and tell her it's alright. A new friend won't do me any harm; I try to convince my own mind. Even if I did mind her niece coming along, it would be rude of me to tell her now. She put me in a position that unless I want to look like a heartless person or hate myself and overthink it for the rest of night, I had to agree. Perhaps someone fourth might prevent us from hitting an awkward moment.

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