A Storm Is Brewing

Outsider

Leah was quiet on the journey home, but this time it seemed to be a peaceful silence rather than her usual anxious silence that I had become so accustomed to. I knew she was still finding it difficult to understand why I wouldn't have confronted her about her plans to leave, but time with Leah had taught me that all the shouting in the world wasn't necessary to sort things out; sometimes she just needed time.

Flashback:

"Em, Sophie?" Leah spoke anxiously from the doorway.
"Yeah?"
"Mum was asking if I could meet her for lunch."
"Today?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
"Do you think he seems okay?"
"Yeah, he's great, Le. Why?"
"I just don't want to go if he seems sick. He looks a little pale, don't you think?"
"He's okay, Le."
"Maybe I should wait until tomorrow."
"If that's what you want." I smiled.

It should've been tiring, but it wasn't. Instead, it simply broke my heart to see her this way—a shell of the person she had been. She doubted every action, every reaction, and every decision she made. Her frame looked smaller; in reality, she was exactly the same, but knowing how she was feeling mentally made her physical appearance seem so much more vulnerable to me.

"Why don't you go? You can call me before you leave the house, and I'll stay on the phone in your pocket. You can mute the line, but you can still hear us." I suggested.
"What if you need to call someone?"
"Like who?"
"For help."
"I'd be calling you first anyway."
"Yeah. What if -"
"No one is forcing you, Le." I said softly.
"I don't want her to think I'm not okay."
"You can tell her I've asked you to stay home if you want."
"Can I think about it?"
"You don't need to ask, Le."
"Okay, sorry."
"You don't need to be sorry either."
"Yeah, sorry."
"C'mere you eejit."
"You two are my only constant; I can't stop panicking that I'm going to lose you both." Leah sighed into my chest.
"We're going nowhere."
"Better not."

Leah reluctantly headed to meet her mum, making sure that she could hear us on the other end of the phone and thanking me for the idea. It was something I never thought we'd have to do to get her to leave the house. It did make me reflect slightly, though. When I'd gone to meet my mum, Leah was fine with it, but she wasn't fine with her leaving the house; maybe the house was her safety?

Teddy went for a nap shortly after Leah had left, giving me free time to make an effort at tidying up. The house didn't get dirty, but it did get messy when we did anything outside of our normal routine, like me going to meet my mum yesterday. I grabbed the clothes from the laundry basket before chuckling to myself that Leah had just left the jeans she was wearing the day before at the bottom of the bed.

"Nightmare." I chuckled.

It wasn't until I got to the washing machine and began the pocket checking procedure as I threw each item into the machine that my heart began to beat faster and I had to use my hands to steady myself. Leah had a few bits of paper folded inside an envelope shoved inside her pocket, carefully marked with my Soph on the front.

My initial fears as to what it was were much worse than what it actually was.

That was the only positive in all of this—that it wasn't what I thought it was. With a wave of relief washing over me, I began to realise the gravity of what I had just found, knowing that this letter, even if not that type, was a letter to say goodbye. My hands shook as I began to read it, noticing how perfected her writing was and realising this was likely the result of many drafts.

Soph,

I promise I'm safe.

I know you won't understand this, and I know I'm probably not putting the punctuation in the right places, but I need to start by telling you how much I don't want to do this and how much I wish I had another option.