Luke

Chapter 23

A chill was still lingering over me from last night and I was numb to everything. My alarm almost didn’t wake me up. I didn’t hear it. I just stared up at the ceiling all night, seeing Mom’s face and her smile and the beautiful things she did drift from one side of the room to another. I couldn’t bear it. The whole room had a stench of cigarette smoke, ashes pouring out of the small candle top. The golden frame rested on my bed cover. I rarely removed it from the drawer, but I just needed to see her. It hurt like hell, and my hand was throbbing and I think I broke a bone in my hand, but that was numb, too. I felt so heavy and so cold, even under the light casting over me. I didn’t know what to do.

My phone buzzed next to me. I looked over at it, Jay’s name running across the screen. I answered, placing the phone to ear.

“Hello?” I asked softly. I didn’t feel like speaking.

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jay, I’m fine,” I snapped.

There was silence on the other line.

I rubbed my face, releasing a breath. “What do you want?”

“I’m outside.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to give you a ride to school. I mean, if you wanted to go.”

“Give me a couple seconds, okay?”

“Okay.”

I hung up, throwing my legs over the bed and standing up. I clenched the side of the bed as I fell to the floor, holding my head and telling myself to calm down. I was weak, shaking. When the last time I had something to eat? I felt like being sick, but what was there to puke up? Maybe all of the shit that accumulated in my lungs.

I pulled myself up, resting my hands on the covers of my bed, my fingers stroking the picture frame. I looked at the photo, flipping the cold golden frame over. I didn’t want Mom to see me like this. She didn’t deserve it.

I went to the side of the room, my hand walking along the wall to support myself. I slid on a pair of jeans over my boxer briefs, which Jay bought me awkwardly for a Christmas present. They had skulls on them. She thought they represented me pretty accurately. I reached down, my head pounding, and pulled a sweater slowly over my head, grabbing my bag and helping myself out of my room. I dragged my bag behind me, too weak to even pull it over my shoulder.

I opened the front door, closing it behind me and shutting my eyes, trying to block out my dizziness. Jay came out of her car and ran over to me, steadying me and grabbing my bag. She walked me to the car, opening her truck door and helping me inside. Everything was blurry. It was hard to hear anything, or see anything. I couldn’t feel anything.

“Luke?” I heard her voice muffled next to me. “Luke?”