PHANTOMS OF TRUTH

It feels as if a percussion band is playing inside my head. I grunt and try to force my eyes open. I can make out a faint silhouette looming over me, but can't do much more than squint. The light is too bright. I groan again.

"That's it. I'm never drinking again" I grouse, rubbing my eyes wearily.

"That's what you said last time" Maya tells me in an amused voice. "Here, I got you some aspirin."

I try to sit up, but a fresh wave of nausea stops me. "Nope. Not happening" I growl, dropping back into my pillow.

Maya huffs out a laugh. Her face is still blurred. I give up trying to focus and close my eyes again.

"Right. Sleep some more. I am going to leave the glass here. I need to get back home, see you later." I feel Maya give me a light peck on the forehead and hear my bedroom door shut softly.

"Mmph" I grunt in a delayed response, sleep tugging at my eyelids.

***

I wince as the extra-bitter coffee zaps my brain-cells awake. I feel weary to the bones, even after sleeping for ten hours straight. I think of going around to Maya's house, but something tugs painfully at the back of my mind at the thought. Of course, pursuing a secret homosexual relationship with my best friend can't be easy; I hate having to lie to my parents. I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. Something flashes. The silhouette, Maya's voice this morning, Maya in my bedroom?

I sit up abruptly in my couch and scrounge frantically inside my head. Something happened last night didn't it? I'm not prone to bouts of unrestrained drinking, I've had enough experiences with crippling hangovers for that. I suck in a breath as I remember.

Maya and I had broken up.

I shiver as the previous day's argument comes back to me.

"I can't lie to them anymore Kavya, I'm scared..."

"Well, I'M lying to MY parents, aren't I?"

"Yes, yes, but it's easier for you isn't it? Your parents aren't around much, you don't know what mine are like, always inquiring..."

"What the HELL is that supposed to mean!"

"Kavya please, listen.."

"DON'T. I refuse to be tossed aside because of a bunch of homophobic people. If you do love me, you'll either tell them or stop giving a rat's ass about what they think."

"Don't, don't talk like that..."

"LIKE WHAT? God Maya, look at you! Since when did you become so weak? We knew what we were getting into when we started this, right?"

"I know, I'm just so scared ..."

"Maya, leave my bedroom. Please."

"C-Can't we stay friends, I..."

"We bloody well cannot! It's this or nothing. Go home, sort this out and call me when and if you make up your mind."

Right. That pretty much explained the drinking. Gosh, I need to learn to control my temper don't I? Of course the call never came. Of course I had driven Maya away with my unreasonable anger.

Unreasonable?

I am not prone to admitting being wrong either. Why wasn't I angry anymore? This, whatever it is I am feeling, is much deeper than anger. Guilt? Depression? Is this really how people feel after break-ups? If only I can stop feeling so exhausted.

I hiss as a sharp pain splices my head again. There is something else that happened, something that is hiding behind this intense pain that keeps rattling my skull. Did we reconcile? Had Maya really been in my bedroom this morning? It is probable that it was an illusion though; I couldn't even see her face properly. But the glass and the aspirin were there when I had woken up later. I lightly touch my temple where the ghost of Maya's kiss still lingers. Her touch had seemed so real, even if everything else had had a dreamlike quality to it.