Like Gold

26.

26.

NOVEMBER 18TH was a reminder.

Last year on November 18th, I'd been in the hospital, relearning how to walk. I'd been busy attending physiotherapy, and counselling sessions, and catching up on schoolwork in a hospital bed.

I hadn't had time to think about it.

This year, though, it was a Sunday and I had the whole day to my own thoughts.

Piper had texted me all night and early this morning. I knew she was worried for me, but I didn't have the energy to see her – to fake a smile and pretend I wasn't drowning on the inside.

Being Sunday, both my parents had the day off from work, and I could hear them shuffling downstairs, mumbling quietly, waiting for me to come down. My alarm clock continued ticking beside me, glowing neon red in the darkness of my curtain-drawn room.

It was almost ten. I'd been lying in bed for three hours now. I'd have to get up eventually.

But it was harder than usual today. Harder than ever. I was underwater. The oxygen had been suffocated from my lungs and my chest was closing in on me. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

Because today was November 18th.

Amber would have been eighteen today.

I buried my face into my pillow, feeling my hot breath melt into the pillowcase, blending with tears from my sleep. I'd dreamt of her again, except it was worse than usual.

This time, she was alive.

She wasn't mangled in the car, bleeding, crying, begging me to help her.

No, this time she was alive. She was in a dress – a dress we'd bought together. A dress she never got the chance to wear. I wondered if her parents still had that dress.

In the dream, I was beside her, wearing a dress myself, with my hair done up and my make up perfect. Make up which I hadn't done since that party. That stupid party that we never should have gone to.

We stood together, laughing, smiling, hugging. It was her birthday, after all. She was eighteen. We were celebrating.

And then I woke up in the dark. I woke up, a smile still pulling on my lips, until I blinked, and my mouth trembled, and salty tears were dripping down my cheeks.

Amber never made it past seventeen.

Vaguely, I heard a knocking downstairs, and I released a grumble. That was probably Piper, ready to distract me all day in that round-about way everyone seemed to love – dancing around Amber's name. Pretending she never existed.

I grabbed my pillow with both hands, pushing my face further into it and pulling the sides around my ears. Would I be able to just sleep through today? It was worth a shot, right? My parents wouldn't come into my room. That'd mean they'd have to talk about Amber. Talk about my depression. They wouldn't do that.

People preferred to avoid difficult topics like that.

Suddenly, a knock came from my door. I stilled, my fingers turning stiff around my pillow. My breath caught in my throat and I waited – waited to see if I was hearing wrong, or if the person would give up and leave. Maybe they'd think I was asleep. I held my breath, not daring to make a noise.

But no, there was another knock. Then another.

I blinked, twisting in my bed to stare wide-eyed at the door. No. I didn't have the energy to fake a smile. I didn't have it in me to pretend I was okay. To pretend Amber never existed. Not today.