Dear Elise

Chapter 8

...the darkness has never felt so crushing. But here, lying in bed at midnight and staring at the ceiling, my tears long dried up, it feels like I'm being strangled.
I choke out another hoarse sob, feeling absolutely pathetic. How can things have changed so quickly? Just a day ago I was feeling happier than ever, finally making new friends and looking forward to every day. So why do I feel, suddenly, like I'm back at square one?
It was a bad comment after a long day, that's all, but I can tell that's not really it. After all, I'm still upset, even hours later. Why is it so difficult to just have fun with other people?
I clicked quickly with Sam, but even she didn't talk to me today- for a second as I ran off, I thought she called after me, but it's probably just wishful thinking. She probably thinks I'm strange. Will she ever talk to me again?

I sit up suddenly, fresh tears dripping down my face as a strong sob escapes from my mouth at the thought. Why does that make me so much more upset...?
I flop back down onto my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling again. It's all too much to handle right now, so I lie there, my mind blank, letting the tears pool on my face and drip down onto my pillow.
I couldn't even bring myself to cry like this in front of my maids, the women who have become so close to me these past few days. I sent them away the second they'd helped me out of my dress, because I knew that I'd break down soon afterwards.

The aching in my chest seems to be subsiding.

The room starts to go fuzzy. Am I finally falling asleep?

...I think the tears have stopped.

...what's that tapping noise...? Have I slipped into a dream...?

...it's so... irritating...

My eyes snap open.
I'm not dreaming- there really is a tapping noise. Someone is knocking at my door in the middle of the night, albeit quietly. At first I wonder if it could be one of my maids, but then, with a shiver of fear, I realise that, if it is... that would mean something was wrong. Very wrong.
Still, I breathe a tentative whisper into the darkness, praying that the person behind the door is just a curious maid or guard, that they got the wrong door, that they were just doing a routine check...
"come in..."
My voice sounds shaky and unsure, and for a second I think the person didn't even hear me. But then, the door opens silently, revealing the silhouette of a person against the dimmed lights of the corridor. I sit up, squinting, and as the person closes the door and my eyes readjust to the light, I can finally see the details of her face.

"Sam?"
I blink in surprise. Sam is standing at the foot of my bed at what I can only assume to be around one in the morning.
"What are you doing here?"
My voice is hoarse from my hours of sobbing, and I can only assume the state my face must be in- all tear tracks and puffy eyes. My disbelief quickly makes way for all too familiar embarrassment, and I turn away. She lets out a quiet sigh.
"Elise, are you alright?" Her words are quiet and gentle and not unwanted, yet I still can't bring myself to answer her question honestly.
"I'm fine."
My quiet sniffs make the lie uncomfortably obvious. There's a pause before Sam speaks again.
"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to be pushy or anything, but you didn't speak to me all night, and you rushed away really quickly after dinner, and-" ...she thought I was avoiding her?

"Wait, just... wait. Come and sit down."
I turn on the small, ornate lamp on my bedside table, walking over and sitting back down on the plush carpet, leaning back and crossing my legs. Something about sitting next to her on my bed feels a little too close, and thankfully she doesn't question it much.
Sam quickly walks over and sits next to me, and I find myself smiling slightly at the sight of her with messy hair, a robe thrown clumsily over her rose embroidered nightgown. She leaves a bit of space between us, and there's another awkward pause before she starts speaking again.
"Anyway, I saw you run off after dinner. And like I said, I don't want to pry, but I heard what those girls said, and you looked pretty upset."
I blink at her in surprise. "I didn't think you'd noticed."
She shakes her head at me. "I did, and I tried to get your attention, but I don't think you heard me."

I did hear her. So, someone did call my name after all. But I don't say that. Tired and a bit lost for words, I sit in silence, giving up on neatening my appearance. Sam leans a little closer, looking at me with a concerned expression.
"Hey, you've gone all quiet. Uh, you're not mad at me, are you..?"
I look at her quickly, my words getting jumbled in my haste to answer.
"No, of course no, I'm mad- I mean, I'm not mad!"

Her quiet laughs cause my face to flush again. As soon as she sees she stops, her whispers soft again, though she still has that telltale grin on her face.
"Sorry. But really, was it just... everything? The stress of the competition, and everything?" I pause, looking at her carefully before I mutter a reply.
"Yes. I'm not mad at all, I promise."
There's another pause, and then- an arm is around my shoulder. I'm being pulled into a warm embrace, and my head rests on Sam's shoulder.
It's warm in Angeles, even in the evenings, and I can feel my face heating up. But soon, I can't help but relax. I let out a shaky sight, realising that I have never felt more at ease than I do right now, in the arms of my new closest friend, a slight breeze coming from the open doors to the balcony. The lamp bathes Sam's face in a warm amber glow, and I look away quickly.
Then, for the first time in front of her, I start to cry.

It feels strangely amazing to finally let someone see that I'm struggling. I've never been this open with anyone before, but all my shame vanishes as she hugs me tightly and wordlessly.
The comfort she brings is almost indescribable.
"This isn't issues related to Maxon, right Elise? Because since we're all competing for the same guy, I think it would be difficult to help you with that."
Sam's unexpected words bring out a choked laugh through my tears.
"Don't worry, it's not boy trouble."
She smiles at me. "Good."
Then we go quiet for a while.

I thought crying to myself felt like a release, but this just makes it feel like everything will be okay. Like I can truly let go. I sniff quietly, just letting her hold me, my head on her shoulder.
The fabric of her nightgown is soft, absorbing my tears as they fall, as if the bad feelings that caused them never even existed in the first place.

"...Your sleeve is soaked."

"I couldn't care less."