Twilight Rays

28. I am sick

The next morning, both me and Mo woke up at noon.
"I don't even know what day we are." I muttered as a greeting.
"Saturday. Someone got you drunk in love." joked Mo.
"Whatever."
We silently toasted our bread and opened the Nutella jar.
"She's still sleeping?" my brother wondered, skeptical.
"Seems so."
We ate silently, lost in our thoughts.

When I finished my breakfast, I started to get worried too.
"I'll go check on her." I decided.
I limped my way to Mo's room, where Twilla was sleeping. I knocked on the door, calling her softly.
"Twilla? You in there?"
"Be right there."
She passed her head through the door.
"Will Mo mind if I borrow one of his tops?"
"He won't."
"Okay, thanks." She closed the door back while answering her phone. "Hello?"
I went back to the kitchen, where Mohammed was emptying Twilla's bag.
"Dude, what are you doing?"
"I'm looking for something."
"And you can't just ask her nicely about it?"
He shushed me and kept looking for God knows what.
"Ray? Can you bring me my bag, please?" Twilla asked from the room.
My eyes widened.
"Great, I whispered to Mo, now we'll have to tell her you were 'looking for something'."
"Just tell us what you need, that thing's heavy!" Mo told her.
"Fine, look for a pad in the larger pocket and give it to me."
I facepalmed myself while Mo handed me the pad.
"Be happy we don't have to buy her some." he reminded me when I came back.
"Whatever, tell me whatchu looking for."
"I remember Katy told us back at the party Twilla wasn't working at the bookstore anymore."
"Well duh, she was at Montreal."
"I doubt so."
"Really?"
He finally grabbed a bus card and showed it to me.
"See that?"
I nodded. That was an Ottawa bus card.
"But she used to have a car."
"She gave it to Clara."
"How can you be so sure about that?"
"Because..."
He pulled out his phone, opening the Facebook app.
"...That's on her new profile picture." He said, lifting the screen to my height. Clara was leaning on the car, next to the immatriculation plate. An Ontario one.
"Why would she lie to us like that? Doesn't look like her at all!"
"Doesn't look like her to play the Cinderellas for two months and yet, here we are."

Mo was right: Twilla was hiding us something. I was afraid my girl had grown into someone else.
"Put her stuff back into her bag. I'll go talk to her."

"Twilla? Can I come in?"
She walked out of the room as an answer. She was wearing Mo's jean shirt with black yoga pants. The shirt was so big for her she had rolled up the sleeves to fit her arms length.
"Sorry, I had someone on the phone." Tweetie said carefully. "We can talk in the kitchen if you don't mind, I'm starving!"
She rushed to the fridge, picking up the maple syrup. I was still observing when Mo said out of the blue:
"Raja, could you come with me for a minute?"
We weren't even in his room yet, he was already whispering:
"She's cutting herself!"
"What?"
"I'm not sure but she has bandages under her sleeves."
"Gosh, what has messed up her mind that much?"
I let myself fall on the bed. She was so unpredictable it was terrifying, because she used to be so readable not so long ago! She used to tell me everything. Now she wouldn't even tell me who had called her!

I felt something under my back. I reached for it with my hands. It was Twilla's cellphone. With 2 missed calls and 4 new text messages.
"They're all from Clara." I noticed, scrolling down.
Mo joined me on his bed, staring at the phone too.
"U betta B back 2morrow, I ain't done with u yet." said the first SMS.
"Lovely", commented Mo.
"where r u?"
"There's a mouse on the floor, come get it."
"Jo said ur not at his place. B**ch u betta come back."
To say I was surprised would be an understatement. I was shocked.
"Oh my gosh." Mo muttered." She's going to- "
We both heard the front door get closed. I hopped off the bed and rushed to the window. Twilla was running for the bus.
"Twilla!" I shouted, opening the door.
She turned around, guilt all over her face.
"I have to go! I'll come back!"
"No way!" I replied, catching up on her.

I reached her in the middle of the street, where the two sides were separated by grass. I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the ground. She gasped out of surprise, kicking me with her feet. I finally put her down on the grass.
"I give up. I can't force you to stay." I muttered, catching my breath. I suddenly realized I had run although my hip wasn't completely healed. Now I would limp for even longer. Great.

I started walking away from her, sighing heavily. I was so done with this. I wasn't in great shape enough to try to figure out all her problems. This time, she would have to decide by herself.

Although I truly was annoyed by the events, I couldn't help myself but to smile when I felt her grabbing my hand firmly.
"Ray, please..."
I stopped, unsure of whether or not I would turn around to face her.
"I have to go. I'll come back."
"Where are you going? I'll drive you there if you need a ride."
"I..." she trailed off, sighing heavily. She put her forehead in my back and wrapped her arms around my waist.
"See? I don't need that kind of stress in my life, trying to figure what you're going through. If you don't tell me, you can't expect me to understand. Like, right now, I think you're heading to Clara's."
Neither of us moved. Twilla was almost stretching my T-shirt with her fingers, because she would hold on to it like sweet life.
"I have to tell you something. But I don't think it will ever get out of my mouth."
I turned around to face her, and frowned of confusion when I was her face. She wasn't crying, but she seemed really...scared. Yeah, scared and troubled.
"Just let it out, Tweetie." I whispered, nervously squizzing her hands in mine.
"I have to go to the hospital." she said so softly it was almost unperceptable.
"Why?" I asked worriedly.
Her breaths sped up and she yanked her hands out of my grip. She slowly knelt down, inhaling slowly to steady her heartbeat.
"What's going on, sweetie?" I called her for the first time.
I sat next to her and brought her closer to me by making her sit down on the dirt too. She closed her eyes, trying to find it inside her to explain to me what was happening in her life.
"I am sick."
"What is it?" I asked patiently, soothing her with a hug.
She cupped my face in her palms and whispered slowly:
"Depression."