Into My Own

Twenty-One

Just as I was getting settled on my swing to wind down after the evening, Torrin knocked on my door.

I was unaware that he'd come home so his entrance was met with surprise.

"Hey." He spoke slowly as if in fear of scaring me away.

"Hey."

"Have fun tonight?"

"Yeah, I did, actually."

He sucked in a deep breath. "Oakley made a point to talk to me before she came over. She's worried about you..."

"Oakley talked to you? She doesn't even know you! What a stalker." I ignored the second part.

"I'm worried too, y'know."

I glanced up in surprise. Torrin wasn't the type to worry about things. He especially wasn't the type to vocalize his concerns.

"Code, what's wrong?"

"A lot," I answered truthfully.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. It probably won't help. I just have to get over it," I shrugged.

His face turned sorrowful. "I don't like seeing you like this. You seriously look like death warmed over."

"Torrin, it's nothing you can fix."

He went silent. Being informed that he couldn't fix something with a few punches and some harsh words was new to my brother.

"Okay," he mumbled, slowly getting up. "But you know I'm here to talk to, right?"

Though I'd never seen our relationship in that light, I replied in the affirmative. "Yeah. I know."

"And I'll be understanding no matter what?"

No, you would flip shit... I thought.

Instead of voicing my inner thoughts, I nodded.

"Okay." My brother crept out of my room with the face of a puppy that had just been scolded.

I felt bad for not telling him, especially since he was making an effort to help. I knew for a fact that if I started talking it would all come out and I'd be in hysterics again, back to square one.

In need of a distraction, I moved to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The girl staring back at me from mirror seemed different, somehow.

Her eyes were still vaguely haunted and hollow, but there was more color in her cheeks. A lot of the usual weight seemed to be missing from her body. Her hip bones were only covered by a thin layer of skin.

Funny what two weeks of unrest could do to a person.

I spit the minty mess into the sink and removed the layer of makeup that Oakley had applied to my entire face.

Midnight blue eyes stared back at me, now void of dark liner, eye shadow and mascara. They looked too big for my face.

I sighed and backed away from the mirror, too tired to care how I looked anymore. I'd certainly done my share of self-scrutinizing for the night.

I changed into a huge T-shirt and shorts and collapsed into bed. It was a hot night so I left the outside door open.

I drifted off fairly quickly, waking up no less than two hours later, as usual.

What was different about that night was the fact that I only woke up three times. That amounted to a total of five hours of sleep--the most I'd gotten in several weeks.