Metanoia

Chapter 4: The Draw

• Ivory •

It is Seven O'clock at night, and instead of eating the celebratory "First Day of Uni!" Pizza that I made myself is in the oven being kept warm. I don't have an appetite, my tears are enough to keep my thirst at bay at least. I feel like I can't breathe, but this happens all the time, so why am I still panicking? I can't do this, I can't do this. My face is sore still, I am surprised that it didn't bruise. I know I bumped him slightly but did I really... well, I suppose I did deserve it. No one in their right mind would do that to someone who doesn't deserve it, right? I can't help but hyperventilate and wallow in my low thoughts. I don't know how I kept it together throughout all my classes. I don't know how I feel even in this moment. Just dread. My first day of independent adult life, and I don't know if it can get worse than this. I really should get the brakes fixed. I can't sit here forever sobbing, I was told my roommate would be arriving earlier than expected.

They told me his name is Kian. He sounds sweet, he must have had trouble getting here. I throw out the pizza I made. He should be getting here around nine-ish I believe. I love to cook, and so I thought I might as well cook dinner for him and I to meet and talk over. Being in a mixed-sex dorm is a bit daunting when I think of it too much, but it really isn't the worst thing ever. I begin preparing steaks and potatoes. It's nothing really fancy, but it should taste alright I hope. I hope they don't have any dietary restrictions, but I made sure to stock up the fridge and pantry with foods for different dietary requirements, a lot of which are for myself as well. I have a lot of food sensitivities, so it's a struggle, but I manage I guess. After I am done cooking, I lean on my cane to help myself up out of my chair. I have to cook sitting down so I don't faint while the flames are running. I place the steaks in the oven on 'keep warm' and then wheel myself to my room where I get dressed casually, but nice enough not to look like a total slob. I match my black turtleneck under my deep red sweater, struggle to pull on some comfortable black compression leggings and socks.

Finally, I am cleaning up and setting the table with food and utensils when I hear the doorbell rings and three sharp knocks. I jolt a bit, it's startles a small attack of muscle spasms and tics for a moment. I am quickly able to calm myself a bit and suppress it just enough. I take a deep breath and try to smile. I hope I don't look like I was crying before all of this. The rooms are all clean and tidy, dinner is on the table, and I tried decorating the kitchen, living room, and guest bathrooms as nicely and neutrally as possible so that it doesn't feel sterile or empty. I can't waste anymore time pondering and worrying, it's time to greet Kian.

I wheel myself to the door and struggle to unlock the door. I finally get the lock unstuck and turn the knob. My heart pounds anxiously as I swiftly open the door, as if I was ripping off a bandaid. My heart drops into my stomach, and then my stomach drops into my ass. My only thought is . . .