Sight

Two.

I walk into the warmth of my house and out of the snipping cold which felt like it was eating away at my soul.

As I throw my car keys into the bowl where most of the keys are stashed away, I take a look at the clock hung near the door way, the large hand stuck on twelve and the smaller fixed on six. The sun outside was setting, colouring the sky a shade of delicious cotton candy.

I walk into the kitchen and fling the fridge door open to prolong my death, and in order to do that I needed to keep my inner demons from eating away at my stomach, causing me to die from hunger.

The minute I'd driven away from school, I realized being alone, at home for my eighteenth birthday wasn't my ideal party, so I drove to the beach and sat on the warm sand and watched the sun dip and disappear into the horizon.

If the horizon was an optical illusion showing us the point at which the sky and the oceans met, showing us the distinction of the hallowing blues and the purest whites, why wasn't there an illusion to show us heaven and hell?

To show us the difference between light and dark, life and death, to teach us what was better than the rest.  Why wasn't there an illusion of a better world? Maybe that's what drugs give us.

Sighing and continuing to wrap myself around my thick blanket of self pity, I flipped through the mail. Magazines and pamphlets for salons.

I reach into my pocket when I feel my phone buzz out of control and when I look at the name that pops up, my heart sinks a little lower.

Avery has been trying to reach me ever since I bailed and I've been ignoring every one of her attempts, maybe I should take her call.

When I'm about to slide the option to pick up the call, I felt the searing pain on the back of my head again. Muttering profanities under my breath I rub the back of my head and when I do, I feel something slick and wet rub against my fingers. Pulling my hand away and bringing it my face, I see hand tainted scarlet as a smear of blood stains my skin.

I take in a shaky breath and my eyes go wide and I touch the back of my head again, and when I pull my hand back, it comes clean.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, but before I have time to process my thoughts, I feel a wave of heat creep up from my feet all the way to my shoulders.

"What is happening to me?" I whisper as I lean against the kitchen counter and press my hand against my forehead, feeling the beads of sweat accumulate along my brow.
Suddenly my breathing begins to pick up and I feel my heart beat's rhythm drum away, booming in my ears. 

Today in the nurse's office, who was that girl? Why was she on fire? Why were her eyes blacked out? Why am I feeling blood on the back of my head? I don't understand. I don't understand anything.

My internal bantering and confusion is cut short when I heard a bashing on the front door. Being pulled out of my sudden panic, with jittery legs and a sheet of cold sweat covering my body, I walk over to the front door, and taking a deep breath to regain my composure, I swing open the door and am met with a very stressed out Avery, pacing on my front porch.

"Ava...?" I say as I pull out onto the porch a little.

"Ria! Ria, I am so sorry. I didn't mean what I said, I should've comforted you, not snapped at you, I'm sorry. I really am and... Hey are you okay?" Avery asks as she slows down her frantic rambling and looks at me.
I look up at her when I realize I'd been staring at the old wood that made the porch, "Huh? Yeah, I'm alright." I say, waving her off.

Avery looks intently at me, looking as though she was studying my every move (I wasn't moving), "You have the same look you had today before we had our fight, Ria, you look really pale, you look like you've seen a ghost." I think I had.