The First

7.1

A/N: Welllll... I don't really know what to say for this chapter... but I hope you like it, I guess :P

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02 - 04 - 2089

Once I regain more of my strength, life begins to go back to normal, much to my chagrin. The feeding tube is taken out and I'm allowed to go back to my normal room. Everybody seems all too anxious to put what happened in the past. Except for me. 

I don't want to let go of my fight. I don't want to just give up on my answers. But I don't have anything else to try. Not eating literally was my last straw. Well, not that I actually have straws that I have been dishing out, but you get my meaning. 

I lower my charcoal pencil for the fiftieth time, all my inspiration gone. I can't come up with anything to draw and it is beginning to frustrate me. I've never had this problem before. On the contrary, usually I have too much inspiration.

My eyes drop from the wall to my lap. I'm wearing fresh clothes, thanks to Barr. A new white t-shirt and white lounge pants. Along with my usual white slippers. Everything white. So very... bland.

I see a black swipe on my pant leg, and upon closer inspection, realize that it is from my charcoal pencil. An idea spawns in my mind. I press the charcoal tip onto my white pant leg right next to the previous smudge. A piece of charcoal breaks off, and my hand moves to smudge it into the white fabric. 

The charcoal feels chalky and dirty beneath my fingers and rubs easily into the clean fabric. It creates a nice smoky effect as I add more charcoal and begin my artwork on my pants. I know they won't like what I'm doing, but that is exactly what motivates me to do it. The little things. Little ways I can rebel and show them I am not just what my name stands for. I'm not just some system to be manipulated. 

"Wow."

I jump at the breathless voice behind me. I spin around to see who it is, and am surprised to see a head of wild hair. Cade. I must have been so focused on my drawing that I tuned everything else out. Including the door.

"What are you doing here?" I demand. 

He's staring at my pant leg where a half formed cloud is smudged into the fabric. I cover it with my hands, feeling embarrassed for some reason. Cade raises his eyes and meets my gaze. He looks... sad. 

"It's beautiful," he says.

I place my charcoal pencil in my art box and get to my feet. I'm still a head shorter than Cade, but I feel better when I'm standing. For some reason I feel more confident. 

"I asked you a question," I say, praying my face doesn't give away what my heart is feeling. Praying that I don't turn red from embarrassment. Why do I always feel this way when he is around? I'm angry at him, but my heart is trying to tell me the opposite. I want to slap it. Figuratively, that is. 

"I wanted to see how you were doing." Cade looks at his feet, a strand of hair falling into his face. 

I resist the urge to tuck it behind his ear and cross my arms. "I'm fine." Why would he come to see me now after having been absent for several days? Why does he have to be so confusing? Ugh, why does life have to be so darn confusing?

Cade nods slowly several times. "Okay, good, good..." he trails off, clearly wanting to say more. 

I traipse over to my bed and plop down on it. He doesn't move. I watch him as he seems to struggle within himself. I don't say anything, neither does he.