sunrise [until dawn]

viii: making up

possible trigger warning - self harm & suicide mentions

The first thing I did was find my way into Hannah's room. The room was splashed with pink and purple, just like I had remembered it. It was like a unicorn threw up on her bedroom walls, but she made it work. Posters decorated cork boards, and miscellaneous clutter was scattered across the desks. As if she was still alive.

"Fuck," I swipe tears from my face, fingering over Hannah's jewelry box.

I make my way into the closet, taking in Hannah's wardrobe. A year since she had worn any of the clothing, and yet the articles of fabric still smelt like her. That aroma of rosewater and vanilla fabric softener.

"I miss you, Han," I slip one of her blouses off of the hanger, hugging it to my cheeks, "I miss you so much."

I set the blouse on a storage container and seat myself in Hannah's bed. The comforter warms up my legs as I dig through the bedside table. I pull out two things: a Polaroid photo of her, Mike, Emily, anf I as well as a birthday card to her signed from all of us. I remember when we signed it; Josh was drunk off his rocker at eleven in the morning, so his signature was all scribbled across the bottom left corner, in the smallest font you could imagine. And the Polaroid? It was from some school dance. I had been invited to go, and Josh insisted he take a photo before we left.

Something glimmers out of the corner of my eye, and I reach into the side table for it. To my amazement, it's another Polaroid photo. Josh is in this one, and I'm on his back. The both of us have cake smeared on our face, and we're both laughing. We look...happy.

It had been at my birthday last year. The Washingtons had decided to treat me and Chris to a movie night at the lodge, in honor of me being the big 1-6. During cake, Josh got the hilarious idea to grab a chunk of my birthday cake and smear it all over my face. So I reciprocated.

"I didn't realize Hannah had kept that photo."

I look up to see Josh curled up on the bed next to me, leaning over to take a peek at the picture.

"Yeah, me neither," I chuckle and hand it to him, "I thought she lost it or something.

Neither of us move for a while, just reminiscing the memory of that day.

"I didn't think that anyone would come up here," Josh says, "I was surprised, to say the least, to see you sitting on the bed."

"I started to forget what she smells like, and looks like, and how her room looked," I gesture my hand outwards towards the walls, "I-I wanted to remember again."

"Me too."

The two of us sit in silence before Josh breaks it.

"I, um, can we talk? About what happened?"

I nod, "That's probably a good idea."

Josh and I scoot to face each other, and he takes my hands in his. The rough calluses on his palms rub up against the smooth skin on mine, and while it's a bit bothersome, I decide to revel in this moment.

"I'm so sorry Maggie, okay? I'm so so sorry that I neglected all of your calls and messages and what have you. You are one of my best friends, and I don't want you to be hurt by my actions."

"Why did you do it then?" I rub the pad of my thumb on his palm, "Why did you ice me out? Fucking hell, Josh. I was terrified something had happened to you."

The bitterness in my voice had caught him off guard, but I frankly did not give a shit. I had been holding this all in for a year, and I felt if I had to bottle it up any longer I would fucking explode.

"I know, Maggie," he says, "I absolutely get it. The thing is, I knew you would worry if you had known what had happened. I just...couldn't bring myself to call you up on the phone. It was horrible of my to do that. I'm really sorry."

What had happened. Those words made my blood go cold. What could have happened that made him want to cut off all connections with me?

"Josh," I breathe, "what happened?"

With a look of pure shame, he rolled the sleeves of his flannel up past his elbows, and flipped his arms so his palms were facing up. There, painted across his arms, was a series of long, red scratches. Some short, some long. It wasn't until I had fully absorbed the sight into my mind that I realized what they were.

They were from a razor blade.

"J-Josh?" I choke out, running the tips of my fingers across his skin. "W-What? Why?"

"Things were rough," he rolls his sleeves back down, "and I, um-"

"You don't have to tell me," I shake my head.

Had I known that things were that bad, I wouldn't have blown up on him earlier.

"The point is, I'm really sorry and I hope we can start over."

He pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, but I've already made up my mind.

"Of course, Josh," I wrap my arms around his torso, burying my face into the crook of his neck.

He reciprocates, placing his hands on the small of my back as he tightens his grip.

"Now," he says, "Let's go downstairs before Ashley and Chris get too cozy."

———

Josh: 7/10 (you're moving up in the world, Joshua)
Chris: 10/10
Ashley: 7/10
Sam: 10/10
Jess: 5/10
Mike: 5/10
Matt: 5/10
Emily: 0/10

Honest: 10/10
Charitable: 7/10
Funny: 6/10
Brave: 7/10
Romantic: 7/10
Curious: 8/10