Oblivion

Chapter 2

For I have become forgotten, and unknown, by everyone, even myself.

They think they know me, but nobody actually cares, and when you are reading this,

I will be unconscious.

I have been living in the horror we call a life for too long.

I love you lots, hope your new best friend is better

-Dianna . <3

I read the note over, and over, and over. Looking for a clue, why she did this, why her mom was acting weird, what the hell was up?!

The note was soaked by teardrops by the time the news had sunk in. Waves of my tears could have ripped it apart until it was nothing but shreds, anything but true. But that wasn't possible to do. So I folded the letter up and stood, my legs wobbling beneath me, my knee aching with pain. Ringing filled my ears, I looked down at my blood soaked knee, almost gagged.

_________

Raged with pain, I took long, heavy, strides forward. 'One leg in front of the other', I told myself. Hauling my limp leg up the stairs till I made it to my door. I hobbled towards my bed, and at the sight of it- collapsed.

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"Honey?" My moms' voice traveled upstairs, as did her footsteps. I scrambled to get to my feet. Why was I on the floor? Once I finished brushing myself off I responded to my mom with the most calm and controlled voice I could manage, "Hey mom! Glad your h-home." I hiccuped from the built up tears.

"Ok", she said hesitantly. Had she not heard what happened to Dianna?! Or was she just trying to give me a break?

Tired enough, even as I had just passed out. I laid down on my bed, my head buried in my pillow. Muffled sobs slowly started to fill the room. My own sobs- I was alone.

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Time Jump:

After I woke up, I was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained. The past few months had taken a toll on me, and now, as I lay here, I couldn't even find the strength to cry. I had reached a point where I was too tired to even feel the pain. Yet, as I closed my eyes, the memories flooded back. The kind hearted girl that was once here, was now not.

Tears finally streamed down my cheeks, my heart aching with every sob. But I was tired enough to let them fall silently, without a sound. Because even in my lowest moment, I didn't want to disturb the peace of my empty room. Maybe I should just die next.

Back To Normal Time:

I woke up with a groggy feeling filled with much despair. My bed was covered in my clothes. The blanket, which had been discarded and thrown off the bed by me earlier, was now being tightly grasped so I could wrap it around my body to keep warm. I lay there for a minute, unsure of what to do with myself. I'd never felt like this before- it was almost like a heavy, thick fog had descended over my whole body, covering every inch, and I was trapped underneath. I was agitated beyond belief by the feeling, anger pent up inside me- If I couldn't accept this feeling, then I supposed I should make something out of it. Make a plan. Yes, that's what I would do. I would make a plan.

My body was surprised by my quick decision, as I slid out of bed and almost tumbled to the ground. Straightening myself out, I grabbed myself a piece of line paper and a pen. It was time to make a plan. 'Time to make a plan Callie!' I thought again. I had nothing. What was the plan even gonna be for? 'How to get my dead best friend back?!' It was stupid- but it was a start.

I figured my mind was still a bit fuzzy from the shock and confusion of my first days. How did that even make any sense? My brain was just a little too slow. And here I was, sitting with a blank piece of paper in front of me, trying to come up with a plan to bring back someone who was gone. It was ridiculous. I was grasping at strings, clinging to false hope in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by my friend's death.

As I sat there, staring at the empty page, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt (More than it already was). Was I really doing this for my friend, or was I just trying to ease my own pain? Was I being selfish in my pursuit of the impossible? The questions swirled in my mind, taunting me with their unanswerable nature.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the doubts that threatened to overwhelm me. I had to focus. I had to come up with a plan, no matter how futile it may seem. So I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and began to write. It was a feeble attempt, but it was all I had. And I clung to it, desperate for some semblance of control in a world that had spun out of my grasp.

All I had was this now. A simple plan- this was what was left. Left of Her.