desertion

122

LYDIA

The past two weeks have been a blur-a slow, agonizing blur. Days bleeding into nights, nights into mornings, and me stuck somewhere in between, trying to remember what it's supposed to feel like to be normal.

I don't remember the last time I had a full night's sleep. I close my eyes, and it's like my brain won't shut off. Every creak of the house, every rustle of wind against the windows feels like someone creeping closer. I can't sleep. I can't let my guard down. I don't trust the quiet, and I don't trust the light.

The mornings are the hardest. I wake up feeling worse than when I went to bed, my body heavy and my head pounding. I drag myself through a shower, the water too cold or too hot, because I don't have the energy to care. By the time I get dressed, it's like I've already used up the small reserve of strength I had for the day.

Work is a welcome distraction, but it's not the same anymore. The pizzeria, usually warm and lively, feels muted. Like someone turned down the volume on the world. Miles is always there, standing next to me at the register, cracking jokes and trying to make me laugh. Sometimes I smile because I know he's trying, and I love him for it. But most of the time, I can't muster the energy to even pretend.

And he notices.

They all notice.

My friends hover again. Isabelle brings me coffee before every shift, her smile a little too forced, her eyes darting toward me every few seconds like she's checking to see if I'm still breathing. Delilah and Tyler offer to find someone to take over my shifts, saying I need to rest, but I can't stand the thought of being alone in my room, so I refuse. Nathaniel texts me constantly, asking if I want to hang out or go for a drive, but I always make up an excuse.

I don't want to be alone, but being around people feels suffocating.

I'm not the same Lydia they're used to, and I think that scares them.

It scares me too.

********

Day One

Work is slow today. Only a handful of customers come in, and most of them are regulars who don't notice or don't care that I'm not my usual self. Miles is beside me, his arm brushing against mine every so often. I know he's doing it on purpose, trying to ground me, but it doesn't work.

"You okay?" he asks for what feels like the hundredth time.

I nod, even though I'm not. "Yeah. Just tired."

He doesn't believe me-I can see it in the way his eyes narrow slightly-but he doesn't push.

By the time my shift ends, my body feels like it's been through a war. I head home, collapsing onto my bed without bothering to change out of my work clothes. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't eaten since breakfast, but the thought of food makes me nauseous.

I close my eyes and wait for sleep to come, but it doesn't. It never does.

********

Day Four

The paranoia is getting worse.

I'm standing in line at the grocery store with Isabelle when I feel someone staring at me. My skin prickles, and my heart starts racing. I turn around quickly, scanning the small crowd of shoppers, but no one is looking at me.

"Lydia?" Isabelle's voice pulls me back to reality. She's holding a carton of eggs, her brows furrowed in concern. "You okay?"

I nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just thought I saw someone I knew."

She doesn't look convinced, but she doesn't press.

By the time we leave the store, my hands are shaking so badly that I have to let Isabelle carry the bags.

I feel like I'm losing my mind.

********

Day Seven

I finally talked to Dad about how I've been feeling, more than I did the other night.

It's late-almost midnight-when I find him in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee. He looks up when I walk in, his eyes softening.

"Can't sleep?" he asks.

I shake my head, sitting down across from him. For a moment, I just sit there, staring at the table, trying to find the right words.

"I feel... off," I say finally. "Like I'm not really here. Like I'm just going through the motions."

He sets his cup down, leaning forward. "That's understandable, Lydia. After everything you've been through-"

"I don't know how to fix it," I interrupt, my voice cracking. "I don't know how to stop feeling like this."

He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. "You're not alone in this. We're all here for you-for whatever you need. You just have to let us help."

I nod, but his words feel hollow. How can they help when I don't even know what I need?

********

Day Ten

I spend the day with Miles.

He convinces me to go for a walk in the park, saying the fresh air will do me good. I'm skeptical, but I agree, mostly because I can see how much he wants me to say yes.

We walk in silence for the most part, the sound of leaves crunching under our feet the only noise. Miles tries to fill the silence with small talk, but I can tell he's struggling to keep the conversation going.

"You've been really quiet lately," he says after a while.

I shrug. "Just tired."

"You always say that," he mutters, his voice laced with frustration.

I stop walking, turning to face him. "Because it's true."

His eyes search mine, and for a moment, I think he's going to argue, but he doesn't. Instead, he takes my hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm here, you know. For whatever you need."

I nod, forcing a smile. "I know."

But even as I say it, I can't help but feel like I'm lying.

********

Day Fourteen

I'm back at work, standing behind the register with Miles. The pizzeria is quiet, the only sounds coming from the kitchen where Delilah and Tyler are joking around.

Miles is trying to make me laugh again, telling some ridiculous story about his neighbor's cat, but I'm barely listening. My eyes keep darting toward the windows, my ears straining to catch any unusual noises.

"Lydia," Miles says, his voice pulling me back.

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

I nod, even though I know he doesn't believe me.

When my shift finally ends, I feel like I can barely stand. My head is pounding, my stomach is churning, and all I want to do is collapse into bed. But I know sleep won't come, and the thought of lying in the dark with my thoughts is enough to make me want to scream.

I'm a ghost on earth.

I don't even really exist to myself anymore.

I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.