181 Days of Madeline Jesty

Chapter 4: Cornelia's Café

I didn't attend class the next day because of my bad hangover, which I got from drinking three more bottles of beer from the nearest convenient store after I got out of the taxicab, hoping it was all a terrible dream. I could only remember how I gulped continuously, wanting to vomit but trying not to, and how I mindlessly threw a bottle onto the tiles of my bathroom when the hourglass was still there.

That was my last memory before waking up, still on the bathroom floor, after hearing Suzie scream, "Maddie! Maddie! What on Earth happened? Oh my god!" Then I felt her struggle while carrying me onto my bed; I tried to help her, but the muscles on my body would not even budge. When I checked for the time before I passed out, it was quarter to eight. However, what seemed to be minutes was already hours because when I awoke again, the sun was high up.

I bathed in cold water, making me scream in shock the moment I rotated the shower valve. Suzie might have turned the heater off to help me get rid of the hangover. But that wasn't the worst part. When I looked at the mirror after showering, the hourglass was still there, even though I wasn't even drunk anymore. Suzie had none a while ago, so why was I still seeing one and, worse, over my own head?

Hoping I was hallucinating, I washed my face several times to the point of almost scratching my skin, but it was still there, the golden sand from the upper bulb descending. I was stupid to try to touch it, knowing fully well that there was none. In panic, I searched for other mirrors, no matter the size, but the results were all the same. Fucking hourglass. Fucking curse.

"Maddie?" I heard Suzie knocking. "You all right? I already informed your adviser you wouldn't be attending school today."

"A hundred and eighty-one, now a hundred and eighty . . ." I whispered to myself, crying, the numbers now tattooed on my mind. The realization that I was going to pass away in less than half a year made me puke. I had several questions at the back of the head—starting from the day Dad left up to this day that I learned of my end—which, I believe, were neither answerable or researchable.

"Maddie? Did you vomit? I'm going to open the door right now," Suzie said before barging in. She saw me leaning on the side of my bed like a limp dishrag, my vomit beside me. "Oh my god, Maddie! What happened?"

What do usually say during these times? I thought and replied with the most usual answer I could think of, "Heartbreak."

"Aww, Maddie. And you didn't tell your poor guardian over here?" she asked worriedly while getting a mop to clean my mess. "But I thought you were at Steph's?"

"I met her at the bar. We had a nice time . . . but I left her."

"And you were the heartbroken one? Shouldn't be the other way around, young girl?"

I smiled when Suzie had no violent reactions on the fact I was pertaining to a girl. "I just know Mom wouldn't approve."

"You haven't even told your mom about the girl. How'd you know she'd disapprove?"

"I just know, Suzie. As if Mom ever cared about what I liked."

"Your mom cares about you. The fact she's busy making all the money just so you could live your life like this meant she cares about what you liked and is letting you do these stuff."

"And what if I tell her I like her to be a caring mother? She couldn't even spare me a minute to eat with me during dinner! I barely see her, Suzie. Did Mom know about how messed up I am right now?"

She sighed. "I told her."

"And where's she? In the office? Not worried about her only daughter?"

"Oh, so are you doing this so you could get your mom's attention?"