Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
LOSS.
I never really experienced loss first hand, maybe the loss of my mother but I was young and I couldn't process my emotions well. Now, I was an adult, eighteen years old and I was now dealing with my first real experience of loss, loss of a loved one, loss of a friend, loss of friends. Now, I had no one, or so it felt.
I never really found the energy to get out of bed after that, never mind attend school but I was excused by my teachers and my dad as they felt sympathy for me. I didn't want sympathy, I didn't want somebody to feel bad for me and that compel them to be friendly towards me, I wanted someone real, someone who valued my emotions, I wanted Jack. Of course, it was the one thing I couldn't have, he was gone and he was never coming back but I just hadn't managed to process it.
I spent my days looking up at the ceiling, buried under a thick duvet whilst my head was dripping with sweat and to be honest, I couldn't remember the last time I'd showered or even brushed my teeth. My dad made constant attempts to help me get out of bed, yet I didn't listen and that made him cry. He cried a lot. My dad's pain was my pain. Yet I didn't know what to do, I couldn't feel, all it was feelings of 'nothingness'.
I'd been absent from college for a number of weeks now, the only social interaction I received was through social media, witnessing the memorials dedicated to Jack. People pretending they knew him abs cared about him, and my inbox was practically full of messages. Some wishing me well, some were asking where I was, others were evil and mean spirited and called it karma. Maybe it was karma, I'd treated Jenna so awfully even before she'd even been a threat to me just because I was jealous. It just felt as if nothing was getting better, everything was staying the same. If I was having a good day, I would manage to drag myself out of bed at 3pm and maybe have a glass of water — but that wasn't very often. Most of the days were bad days; I stayed in bed all day, didn't eat, didn't drink and didn't even interact with my dad. Sure, he'd come in my room every hour or so but the so called conversations we had were just exchange of blunt words.
Today was one of my good days, and I'd managed to get out of bed and even showered which helped me to feel a little better about myself. I sighed and moved in front of my mirror, examining the skin that had grown loose after my rapid weight loss. It was no secret that I looked horrible. I turned my attention away from my mirror as a light knock landed upon my bedroom door from my dad. He greeted me with a hello and shifted onto my bed, he looked as if he wasn't sure what he was going to say, or how he was going to say it.
"I think it's time that you start doing back to school." my dad admitted. I paused, processing the sentence that he'd just said and trying to figure out if I agreed with him or not. "I know it'll be tough at first, so your counsellor and I have arranged for you to have a phased return." He continued. A phased return? Now I was interested. "You'll start on Monday abs Tuesday, just for a few hours and then we'll see how it sounds from there, you down for that kiddo?"
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair before nodding hesitantly, it was a good job this was one of my good days.
