Writer in the Dark

17 Spring, Year 1

     One week later, I beg of my dear Haley, "Please, dear, get some sleep." My unread book lay open across my lap and my hand rests on my friend's upper arm. She gives no audible response, so I squeeze her arm. This prompts her to turn on her side in the bed to glare at me with bleary, narrowed eyes.

     She mutters grumpily, "Elliott, go home." Her voice cracks and she ducks under her downy quilt, more than willing to return to ignoring me for the fifteenth time today. She hasn't been able to ignore me for long, however; the longest she's lasted so far has been, by my own account, less than ten minutes. "Harvey said you need to go home," she continues in a sort of whine that trails off into a groan by the final word. Her voice is muffled by the layers of fabric and feathers over her mouth.

     Normally, it would strike me through to the heart even dulled by muffling, but I've built up a thicker skin these past few days. One can only withstand so many curses before they built up a sort of immunity or delve deeply into trauma; fortunately for Haley's sake, I've spent a lifetime building up a thicker skin perhaps just for the future sake of befriending her. For the sake of the past few week, even. The point being, of course, that her initial pleading for me to leave, then her outright fury these past few days, have had little effect on me.

     I've stayed planted by her side for days on end now, ever since that first night when I'd gone home. I'd returned to Harvey's clinic the next morning to find Haley had already gone home for bed rest; it was at that moment that the guilt truly washed over me. Had I truly spent most of that day mooning after you instead of caring for my bedridden best friend? I had. And now I pay for it, and assuage my guilt, by

     I shake my head and close my book, saying, "I don't care what Harvey said. I'm staying." Nonetheless, I do stand from my chair beside her bed, but only to stretch my legs. My knees crack, prompting Haley's bare face to pop out from under the comforter once more so she may glare at me. I take her expression to be one of both confusion and surprise.

     "Then why are you getting up? Are you actually listening to me?" Haley asks, uncovering her face and forcing herself somewhat upright. It takes all my strength not to reach out and assist her. My resistance comes much easier when she speaks again. "Wow, you haven't done that in, like, an entire week. Amazing. Just abso-fucking-lutely incredible. I don't know how you've survived this long without listening to me. I mean, seriously, how many times has it gone wrong? Once? Literally once? And only when I was being kind enough to help teach you how to get some actual dick. So, really, you owe me my peace and quiet, right?"

     I think this might be it. I open my mouth to speak on my own behalf, but no, this is not it.

     "Because if you weren't so, I don't know, romantically challenged, I wouldn't have had to help you in the first place, right?" Haley continues, showing more energy and strength than I've seen in her in days. "I wouldn't still be hacking up black goop and throwing up every time I move, right? I wouldn't be bedridden, right?" She's glaring at me now, and I actually flinch. This seems to give her the strength to continue. "Just...go to the saloon or something. Get drunk. Let me sleep without you waking me up every twenty minutes."

     Haley turns so her back is to me, then pulls her blanket back up over her head. Silence befalls the bedroom and I hesitate, moving my weight back and forth on each foot. What to do, what to do? This is usually an easy enough choice: listen to Haley and all will go well. But now, my guilt is roaring at me. My best friend's health is on the line. Emily can't be with her all the time, though I know at this time of the day she would be in her bedroom right now, knitting.

     "Alright," I finally say, nodding my head in assent. Though she can't see me, I bow and leave her bedroom, my head hanging low. Had I a tail, it would curl between my legs.