Just The Girl

Chapter 22

D A H L I A

The rays of the sun had surprisingly made its way towards the open window of the white painted room. The curtains swaying back and forth as the morning breeze lightly cascaded through, the only sound that was audible were the chirps of the birds and the sound of sprinkles at the front yard.

Twisting and turning in my place, I then soon fluttered my eyes open the moment I had come to my senses. Last night's turn of events was what had led me towards the realization that I was alive and not dead, in contrast to what I had expected of me to become.

I took in a deep breath, taking note of the arm that was slumped around my waist, trailing my eyes from the person's chest then unto his face, pursing my lips into a thin line as soon as I saw who it was. And again, this wasn't my first time waking up to the sight of this.

We were childhood friends. Sleepovers to which resulted to waking up huddled in each other's arms were a normal event for the both of us. But not after last night's sudden confession, I doubt anything would be the same afterwards. Not when the fact that Ivan has been in love with me throughout all these years of being friends.

His nose began to wrinkle, earning a little chuckle from me. The moment his nose would do that little dance, I knew he was slowly waking up from his slumber.

I whispered his name, slowly reaching out to draw circles atop his right cheek. His words from last night began to push through my mind like sunlight coruscating through cracks on a wall.

I knew I had a hard time fathoming his confession, not when I was clouded with heightened emotions and drumming thoughts between life and death, but now that my mind is clear like the sky after a rainstorm, I took into consideration of his emotions thrumming against mine.

I saw him open his eyes, finally realizing that I had woken before him, giving him a light smile before he mirrored the gesture, immediately sitting up to a straighten composure.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. "Like shit." He chuckled at my response.

We both stared at each for a while, trying to mask the emotions written on my face as best as I could, I wouldn't want to make Ivan feel that I was very much confused of the situation. Not when his confession was still fresh, and not when I just came from a life and death situation.

Although his confession was what had saved me last night, it still wasn't enough to actually convince me that it was better to live than to become a memory.

I was still sad, still in my most vulnerable state, still in a trajectory of my life where death would be a mercy I would plead to be blessed with.

And even as my mother had barged into my room, Ivan still atop of my bed, my mother informing me that it was time to pay Dr. O'Brien another visit. I still continued to have my face void of emotions.

Arriving at the Dr. O'Brien's clinic had taken my mom 10 minutes to drive, my father sitting on the passenger's seat while I sat at the back alone. Ivan had class, as well as my other friends. They wanted to come with, but both my parents insisted that they shouldn't let whatever problem I had get in the way in their performance at the university, saying that they could always visit me after school hours.

To which my mom was right, I wouldn't want them sacrifice school hours just to be with me. The appreciation is duly noted, but as a friend—I wouldn't want to be more of a burden than I already am.

Arriving at his clinic made me feel sicker than I already am. Last time I was here, he diagnosed me with GAD. The illness had what consumed me whole and the entirety of my personality, bringing it towards the pits of the darkness of my soul.