Dust

| 12 |

I feel her creeping into my thoughts as I lie on the couch. Middle of the day, surrounded by family, dumb tv show on mute. I start to feel ill, I've got cold sweats and somebody is making my stomach a punching bag. I shouldn't get up, they'll notice, but I know I'll be starting to look pale in no second.

Getting up, slowly. Maybe they won't notice. I feel like I'm floating to my room, shut the door, I don't have time to shut the door. I fall to the ground. I'm dizzy. Feet up, feet up, feet up. I rest them against the door, perfect. Okay, okay, I'm going to be fine.

Their voices stop being so distant. I'm good, I can get up. Go to the bathroom, water on my face, I knew it. I look like a ghost, pinch my cheeks just a little. Oh no, here it comes again.

Crawl to my room, I look like a child. Feet up, I need to eat something. No I don't, no I don't, no I don't. There's a cloud crushing me, my eyes won't open, my legs refuse to keep themselves stretched high. Time passes, I'm not sure how much.

Someone is calling me, the sound like speaking under water. Footsteps. No, no, no. they can't see me like this. Big breath in. "Just a second!". Right, I was supposed to start dinner, is it eight already? I got this. Open the drawer where my pyjamas are, jar of chocolate spread nearly finished. I know, I know. Why did I even buy it in the first place? I knew how it would turn out. But can't think now. Put some of it on my fingers, put it on my tongue. Just ignore it, don't think about it. I can do this, I can do this.

I steal a glance at the mirror, forget ghost, I look like a zombie. Thank god for makeup. Shoulders back, glue on a smile, head towards the kitchen. Disapproving motherly look right on queue: "Make up, seriously? Is that what took you so long?". Two small giggles, "Sorry". Time to chop up some vegetables.