Shadows of Yesterday

Chapter 6: Between a Rock and Rock Bottom

There was a part of me that had been convinced I couldn't feel worse waking up than I had yesterday. The larger, more logical part of my brain knew that it could, in fact, get much worse, but I still hadn't anticipated how truly awful this morning would be. If I had been run over by a semi-truck on Thursday, today it was the meteor that killed the dinosaurs. My whole body felt so heavy I could practically sense it sinking through the old mattress below me and into the floor. My brain was full of bees and sand and melancholy.

I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling, as blank and empty inside as the surface above me. Six years today...

People always told me that scars fade and that time heals all wounds. I knew better. Especially on days like today, there was always a dull ache with every heartbeat, a feeling of absence and lingering sadness that would never go away. I could still recall every detail of that day with perfect clarity, every haunting moment down to the second. People were full of crap.

The thought of trying to get out of bed seemed like an insurmountable task akin to climbing Mount Everest, but I forced myself to peel my body away from the bed and get ready. Even if I had wanted to, my parents would never let me skip school. They had already chewed me out for skipping a class on my first day back; I didn't want to find out what punishment I would receive for skipping an entire day.

My room was colder than usual, and the morning light felt harsh enough coming through the basement window that I had to squint. I pulled a shirt and pair of pants out of the box I had fallen on yesterday. Black on black--fitting. As I slowly heaved my clothes on, my eyes caught the light reflecting on a familiar band of silver. It fit on my wrist perfectly as I slipped it on for the sixth year in a row, then stared at it somberly, feeling its weight more like a shackle than a comfort. The Latin inscription on the inner side was ingrained in my memory: "ad astra per aspera." I blinked back tears for a moment. What a load of bull.

When I went upstairs, Declan was lying on the living room couch face-up. His hands were clasped over his stomach as he stared blankly at the ceiling, and I could hear the faint sounds of loud music coming from his earbuds. The scruff on his face had grown out more than he usually let it, and there were bags under his eyes. He didn't seem up to talking. Truth be told, neither was I. 

I trudged past him to the kitchen without so much as a "hello" and emotionlessly slotted two pieces of bread into the toaster before plopping down on a stool next to the equally silent Ben, who was scrolling on his phone and devouring a jar of peanut butter like there was a treasure at the bottom. For the second morning in a row, I couldn't help but notice that his coffee was black.

I also couldn't help but notice what he was wearing. "Did you go to the gym for once?"

He looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion. Then, he looked down at himself and seemed to realize what I was talking about. "Yeah," he sighed, "I've been up since 4, figured I might as well."

"Wow." I didn't have the energy to say more than that.

The rest of breakfast was spent in tense silence. None of us seemed to know what to say to make today any better. With the way we all expertly avoided eye contact, it seemed like we also didn't even want to try. Ben was generous enough to give me a ride to school, but the silence persisted. He didn't even turn on the radio to make things less heavy. 

Just as I was about to tiredly slump my way out of the door to his truck with my backpack in hand, he quietly said, "I'm here if you need me. You know that, right?"

I turned back to look at him. "Thanks... you, too."

He smiled sadly, and suddenly, he seemed a lot older than 21. "Thanks, Jackrabbit."