Strange [h.s.]

Twenty Six

This chapter may go a little bit into a heavier topic, so I'm going to put a little warning here. It talks about struggles within a relationship, such as trust issues and anxiety around that. To anyone who needs it- please move forward with caution and take care of yourself first, you are more important than reading this chapter 🤍

Ella Frazier

The room feels heavy.

The room feels heavy, which makes no sense because I'm sitting on the ground, so I couldn't possibly be holding anything right now. So how could I feel a weight on me?

Then again, none of what is happening makes sense.

I was sitting at the kitchen counter, working on whatever piece of writing my boss handed me at the beginning of the week. Everything was fine, and the next thing I remember. I'm on the floor, stuck in the corner of my living room.

My eyes stay stuck on the wall across the room, the white wall that I have decorated with orange, pink, and red posters that I printed off at the local store because I didn't have the money when I moved in to get some extravagant decorations from online. My eyes move all over the wall from the posters down to the clear table below them, home to a tray that keeps all my keys and other random items that I chuck on it.

My eyes move below the base of the table, noticing a spot of chipped paint on the wall.

"I need to fix that," I whisper to myself, and when I do, I notice how dry my voice sounds. I clear my throat, finding it a little harder to do than usual. I bring a hand up to touch my throat and am met with a damp feeling.

Confusion fills me as my hands move up to my face, the same wet feeling on my cheeks. I tuck my hand into the sleeve of my sweatshirt, wiping away the dampness on my cheeks with the fabric.

"Was I crying?" I say to myself again.

I hear my phone buzz across the room; I can only hear it because it's on the tile countertop of my kitchen. My phone buzzes a few times, but I leave it be. I stay seated on the ground, in the corner of my living room, because right now, I trust it.

I don't remember how I got here, but I put myself here, so I must trust it, right? The corner of the room won't hurt me, and I can trust it.

My eyes return to the spot on the wall where the paint is chipped. I squint my eyes a little more, trying to see if just the paint is chipped or if the whole wall is chipped. I moved my furniture around slightly a few months ago, just for some change from the old way the room used to look and feel, so I wouldn't doubt myself on knicking the wall and chipping it.

"That pink wall stuff and paint" I make a list of what I need to fix it in my head.

A knock sounds out from my front door, sending my eyes shooting over to the handle. My heart rate picks up again, wondering who could be at my door right now.

The knocks sound again, a voice trailing behind it, "Ella?"

My sister.

My eyes move to the handle, hoping she opens the door and I don't have to move or speak or do anything but sit in this corner.

"Ella, I know your home. I'm just a little worried. We all have been trying to get you on the phone, but you haven't answered," She starts, and I can tell she placed her hand on the handle by the way it moved slightly on my side, "I called you like six times before I got fed up and drove over here. Harry called you a few times, too, but I told him I was on my way to you, so he didn't need to worry."