Ashes // l.h.

6. voicemail

XYLØ-  Between the devil and the deep blue sea

6. voicemail

Five days. I'm here alone, in this dorm room, for five days.

I'm trying to convince myself that five days isn't too long, that I will be fine and go out and get drunk in order to handle the solitude. But I know time is going to drag on as slowly as it has been for me and in order to get through this, I'm going to need some distractions.

Grace has went home for Thanksgiving break as well as Mikey and the rest of my friends. I'm alone at a time where I hate being alone; but I'd rather be alone than in a place that is the definition of a broken home.

I can't keep drowning myself in alcohol whenever things get rough, so I'll use art as my distraction for the next five days; painting until my hands ache and cramp.

I'm sure Dr. McKinley would have disapproved of my decision, staying at campus, which is why I skipped my last two scheduled appointments with him. Now... I sit on my bed and watch as my new phone begins to vibrate intensely. Willow's caller I.D. pops up on the screen and I stare as it continues to vibrate; imagining what she would say if I were to pick up.

I called her last night and told her I wasn't coming home because I had too much work to complete and I was busy with my job...a job I don't even have. I guess she was disappointed and I could hear Tom in the background asking Willow to pass him the phone. I rushed to end the call before he had the chance to say even one word to me.

The vibrating eventually stops and I let go of a breath I hadn't realize I was holding. But then my phone flashes again and I look to see I have one voicemail...from Willow. Against my better judgment, I pick up the phone and play the voicemail.

"Hello Andrea." Willow's voice always had a smooth and angelic tone, but now I can't help but shiver at the sound of it. "Happy Thanksgiving. I was just wondering where you are, what you're doing, who you're with and if you're okay. You're probably busy, writing those papers you told me about. Me and your father miss you..." She trails off. "So much." After a pause, I hear a small sniffle and I know she is crying. "Please call me back as soon as you can. We want to hear from you. "

The message ends and I fall back onto the bed, feeling tears sting my eyes. I'm not sad, I'm not missing her or my father or that place they call home. But it's killing me inside... feeling this disconsolate. I'm having some trouble finding my place in this world, finding some trouble in who I am and who I want to be.

Some days, I think it'd so easy. Just forgive my parents and move on. And maybe it would be that easy if I could erase these memories that replay through my head daily. The trauma I was put through at a young age remains with me until this day and I'm not so sure if I will ever forgive my parents. But I am sure that I will never forget.

Minutes, maybe hours pass until I hear a knocking at the door.

Confused, I call out, "Who is it?"

"It's me, open up Bambi." Luke's voice comes from the other side of the door, but I am too exhausted to even have a reaction. I expected him to go home for Thanksgiving break as well, but here he is, at my door.

"I can't move, sorry." I tell him, an exasperated tone in my voice. "I'm in the midst of a mental breakdown."

"I'll wait." He falls silent and I stare at the door, wondering if he really is still standing on the other side or not. It's too quiet, but I can make out a shadow from underneath the small crack of the door.

I get up, unlock it and let him through. Immediately, he allows himself to plop down onto Grace's bed. He's still in his red and black plaid pajama pants, but he looks wide awake as ever with that small smile on his face he always has.