The Demon's Half

C̶̮͂̎h̸͖̫͊â̷̫̑p̸͔̍ţ̶͔̀̔e̴̞͑͜r̴̩̐ ̸̢̮̽7̵͉̈́͝

"Mia?" My throat felt on fire. "Mia."

She was lying next to me, pretending to be asleep so she wouldn't be the one to close the blinds. Like she always did. She never seemed to be bothered by the sun getting in.

"It's your turn," I whispered.

We had been sleeping on my bed for days now, even if things had gone a little back to normal.

"Mia, you need to close the blinds the sun is getting in."

I reached for her arm.

"Mia."

I didn't reach her arm.

I opened my eyes.

"Mia?"

Mia wasn't here.

Mia was not next to me.

MIA WAS NOT NEXT TO ME.

I WOULD NEVER SEE MIA AGAIN.

I WOULD NEVER SEE MIA AGAIN.

I WOULD NEVER SEE MIA AGAIN.

I WOULD NEVER SEE MIA AGAIN.

I WOULD NEVER SEE MIA AGAIN.

I WOULD NEVER SEE MIA AGAIN.

There were moments where I couldn't tell if I was sleeping or if I was awake...

Mia should be here.
She had been here.

The world kept turning.
And that was wrong.

I didn't think about it, just opened the closet.
The door creaked. Mia used to complain about it, how loud it was. She'd always say we needed to put oil in it.

She never would.

My fingers brushed against the fabric of the only hoodie she owned, and I pulled it out, not thinking. The hoodie was soft, the fabric worn thin in places where Mia had rubbed her hands against it. It smelled like her, sweet like strawberries. The smell of her soap. But it was already fading.

I put it on.
The sleeves hung a little tight.

I didn't take it off.

I pulled the hood up, and sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to ignore the empty space beside me.

Life kept happening.
But Mia wasn't here.

I pulled the sleeves down, wrapped my hands inside them, holding on to the fabric.

I just sat there.
Wearing Mia's hoodie.

Because not wearingit felt like something I couldn't do.

______________________________________________________

The world was wrong.
I didn't know who I was without her.
I had been there for her first cries, her first steps, her first laugh. I had watched her grow, bright and full of light, only to watch that light die in front of me.

It. Should've. Been. Me.

But I still woke up cada mañana.
And every morning, my mind tricked me into believing she was still here.
That I'd turn the corner and find her smiling, teasing me over something insignificant, like she always did. But then reality would sink in, gutting me from the inside out. There was no one else here.
I wasn't just drowning in grief.
I was grief.