My hand shook as I lifted the cigarette to my numbed lips. The raised hair on my arms told me I was cold but I couldn't feel it. This is what the last couple of days had been like. Everything I did and acted upon was the consequence of someone or something's instruction or demand. She told me to stay at home, that I'd be alright because she'd soon join me and we'd get through it together so I patiently waited. They told me that her sudden deafening silence as updates and letters stopped altogether was nothing to worry about so I trusted them. So why should I believe that I was cold because the goosebumps on my arm told me so-nothing else had been true? I inhaled the cigarette smoke deeply and desperately although I had long ago stopped enjoying this pleasure along with most other things.
"El, it's fucking freezing out there. Get inside and put on a jumper or something". I stabbed my cigarette out hastily, flicking ash onto my bare legs and swore. I stood up, stretched, breathing in the fresh evening air and braced myself for Joel's pitying stares when he thought I wasn't looking which I'd fend off with my transparent vibrant smiles and witty humour. The way I saw it as long as I pretended everything was okay the easier it would be for everyone else and maybe, eventually, I'd believe it was to.
