Firsts

First Mental Breakdown

I get home to find a letter waiting for me on the kitchen table. From the John Hopkins Hospital. I tear it open. 

Dear Ms. Lark, 
We regret to inform you of the passing of your mother. We did everything we could, but when we got to your residence, it was already too late. Her passing was the result of a heart attack that we think was from stress. The Baltimore Courthouse has her will and would like you to come down sometime this weekend to sort it. 
Sorry for your loss,
John Hopkins Hospital

I already knew she was dead, but this makes it all too real. Mrs. Barnes, Annabelle's mom, stands in the kitchen with tears in her eyes. 

"I'm so sorry, Annabelle."

I just stand there. Then, slowly, I rip the letter into shreds. A flash of anger passes through me. They did the best they could? Well, their best wasn't enough! I smack the torn letter down on the table, throw my backpack to the ground, kick it away, and run up the stairs, throwing myself onto my air mattress in Annabelle's room, already in tears. A few minutes later, I hear footsteps on the stairs. I lie facedown and pretend I'm asleep.

"Skylar?" Annabelle whispers. "Listen, I'm here if you need me. We can talk, or do homework, or maybe just watch a movie. I'm cool with whatever. My mom says you can have somebody over if you want. I'll just leave a school directory in here. Well, bye."

She closes the door and leaves me alone. She doesn't pry, she doesn't try to make me talk. I'm really grateful for that. I just want to be left alone for a little while. Eventually, I really do fall asleep. I don't wake up until about eleven at night. Annabelle hasn't come to bed yet, so I walk quietly down the stairs. Mrs. Barnes almost doesn't notice me enter. Almost. She looks up. 

"You want some supper?"

I nod.

"What do you feel like? A sandwich? Soup? Fast food?"

"Chick-fil-a sounds good, if that's not too much trouble," I manage to say, my voice scratchy. 

Chick-fil-a's my comfort food. My mom used to go out to the drive through when I was sick and come back exactly twelve minutes later with a steaming box of nuggets, some waffle fries, and a lemonade. I sit down on the couch. Somebody covers me in a blanket. I'm not sure who. I'm seriously considering calling Julia at this point. From the other side of the room, Annabelle pulls up Netflix on the TV.

"What d'you wanna watch?" she asks softly. 

I shrug and pull the blanket up around my shoulders. 

"Have you seen Doctor Who?"

I shake my head.

"It's really good," she says, smiling sadly.

And with that, she pulls up the first episode and presses play. I'm introduced to the Ninth Doctor and Rose Tyler as they try to stop living plastic. It's one of the most fascinating and strange things I've ever seen. About half way through, a bag of Chick-fil-a is placed in my lap. There's ten piece nuggets, waffle fries, and lemonade. I eat the warm food, my limbs numb, barely thinking. It's like I'm in a different world, floating around, like this isn't real, this isn't happening. I don't know if this is true grief, aftershock, or how I'll feel from now on. I just know it kind of sucks. 

Annabelle's right. The show is pretty good, and I'm thankful that I'll have something to keep my mind off of recent events. There are around seven seasons, so I think that'll be time consuming enough. Eventually, I fall asleep, only to be reluctantly awoken by Mrs. Barne at 10:00. She holds out a phone to me. 

"Hello," I answer groggily. 

"Hey Skylar. You don't sound too good. What's wrong?" Julia's perky voice quickly takes on a concerned tone.