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In spite of everything, the world around Mae is pitch black.
Starless blankets of nearly-black tones of violet tucks the earth into what feels like a dreamless night. The moonlight cascades through the window paintings, translucent as ghost and Mae is laying on her stomach, eyes blankly boring into the wall in front, dimly lit by moon's light.
Her eyes feels heavy as the skin around them are swollen, a redness on the puffy skin that adds a burning sensation to it. Shutting her eyelids should help ease the pain, Mae knows that to; but this particular night she'd rather if it hurt. Peace isn't about to welcome her tonight, her tired eyes might as well be the death of her.
In a gut-wrenching tug, Mae's mind wanders back to her father, injured and unconscious. She has no idea how he is now, or if the operation was even done. Just try and go to sleep honey, Maya had instructed, we'll keep you updated. Being an outsider to her own family wasn't new, but it never hit her as hard as it does now.
She's still living with the Stacy's and Mae was thankful when Gwen said she would sleep in the guest room tonight. Her periodic breakdowns feels easier when she's alone. Her pillow is soaked in salty wet tears and yet they keep pouring. It has to be way past midnight now, Mae doesn't have the energy to even spin around to look at the clock on her nightstand. Anyone knows how empty things are almost weightless, and Mae knows it much better with all her scientific facts and formulae—but strangely the emptiness within her felt heavier than a mountain.
Mae has always been this budding ray of sunshine— an ever glowing, optimistic little flower that saw the good even in the darkest places. A young petal-bound girl who held onto hope like a second skin despite everything that she goes through. On any other given day, Mae would profusely blush whenever someone complimented her of these things. Tonight however, it feels sickening.
Mae has never hated herself more.
For being so grossly optimistic, for thinking like she can live the perfect life with an almost incurable disease, for being useless when her father needs her the most . . . the list goes on. All she wants is to be wrapped around an unbreakable cocoon and never break free. That seems more ideal than her life right now.
