CECE, DISRESPECTFULLY | ✓

41: ANIMAL PART OF ME

            Maybe I should go to that group home. I should. I should go. I should go today.

I've been selfish for my whole life—my whole life.

Nicolás took care of me since I was born, since he was six years old. And what have I ever given back?

I can't even hug him. That's not asking for a lot. He dropped out of his postgraduate just to be able to support me—or "deferred", whatever, same thing. He had to put his whole life on hold. He'll never have time for his friends when I'm around. He'll never have time for a partner when I'm around. He'll never have time to take care of himself when I'm around.

Nicolás gives and gives and gives and I take and I take and I take and I'm never sated. Never sated. I keep hurting him. It's all I do, even when I'm trying not to, I always hurt him. Eventually, I'll take his bones too.

I should go. I'm selfish staying—evil.

I must be, must always have been. Has an evil creature ever considered itself evil? Monstrosity can't perceive itself.

Evil evil evil evil evil evil evil evil–

'Cece, hello.'

Diwa's irritation always has a unique ability to slice into my mind. I blink and turn from the window to look at the frown souring her face. I see it less frequently these days and somehow the barbs in her stare pierce deeper now.

'Are you high?'

I needed to (my heart is beating–) calm down. I just needed to turn my brain off a little. And it were only a little and (–really fast) it were hours ago—it won't be impacting me anymore.

I lost the fight with Char yesterday; the last anyone saw were me taking the hit. And having to grovel to Apostolou didn't help. I'm weak. Everyone sees me as weak.

They'll kill me.

I just needed to turn my brain off for a little.

Diwa sighs. 'Let's just end practice early today.'

Her voice is austere. But (hurt) it cuts. It cuts.

Diwa gathers (pain) the maths worksheets Apostolou printed at her request into a pile. 'We'll pick up from here on Monday.'

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Chairs scarpe. Footsteps. Not hers. Not mine. Meira and Noah's.

'Bye, Diwa!' Noah's chipper voice says from my left. 'Thanks for today. Have a good weekend. Bye, Cece!'

'See you Monday,' I respond. 'Enjoy your weekend.'

Noah leaves the classroom with a wide wave and Meira exits after him.

Diwa rakes her fingers across her skull to collect her waves into a ponytail. The scrape of her nails against strands of hair makes me gag.

'Honestly, Cece,' she starts, keeping her focus on packing up her things, 'I don't feel like I'm asking for that much. We're friends. And you know this is important to me. Can you not get high after school? And what if a teacher noticed? Have you forgotten about how you're tryna not get expelled?'

Now you've made her miserable too. Like everyone around you.

Responses stream to the tip of my tongue only to trip up after a syllable or two. Words refuse to emerge from the smog steadily pumping into my mind until all I'm left with is a red and cobalt colour scheme and the sting of a wasp, neither of which is remotely helpful to communicate with Diwa.