Annie asked Calum for a sketchbook one day. When he got it for her, along with some mechanical pencils (he was worried about giving her a pencil sharpner), she scribbled away happily. Calum looked through it, one day. Pictures of the boys house, the couch, the walls, the kitchen. Pictures of the new house, the shower, the way Annie's room looked like from where she slept on the floor. Pages filled with pictures and scribbles of him, what Calum looked like in the morning, what he looked like sitting across from her at the coffee table the ate at, the way his face was illuminated by the tv.
Some pages were filled with words too, tiny tiny words Calum couldn't read. He could only make out question marks, a few distinguishable letters (Annie drew her t's bigger than other letters), and places were words and even sentences were scribbled out.
Annie set the sketchbook on the coffee table when it was filled. Calum looked at some of the pages before he had to leave that day, with the mental note to get another drawing book for her.
When he came home that night, he had a large reusable grocery bag filled with books. A coloring book, with intricate designs. A normal sized sketchbook, and an extremely large one. A lined notebook. And real books too, best selling novels and ones with bright covers or interesting novels. He topped it all off with a pack of fifty markers, some new mechanical pencils, and a box of chocolates.
Annie squealed when she saw what he had gotten her. They sat down on the floor, where they always ate at the coffee table, and he went through each of his purchases. Annie smiled wider than she had in monthes, and she hugged him. "Thank you" whispered across her lips.
Calum had closed his eyes, relishing in her touch, her voice.
Luke came over more often. Annie showed him a picture she had drawn of him. There were dozens of dozens of lines that you could see she had tried to erase, but Luke still complimented her on it, telling her it looked amazing. She had smiled a smile like she had used to, and shown him pictures she had drawn of Calum and Ashton too. All the boys but one, but they didn't ask about that.
Calum kept asking her if she wanted to leave for dinner one night, or get ice cream, or go for a walk. He'd tell her about this beach they could go to, or this park that she'd love, but she turned down every offer. Annie was stuck in her routine of timeless actions. She showered her pain away, and though it had been weeks she still scrubbed at her skin like there might still be a trace of Michael on her skin. She drew the curtains, and watched TV shows like they were about alien creatures. Calum assumed she slept during the day, because at night she wondered around her room, coloring and scribbling and reading. She showered at midnight, and it seemed ad though she slept for a few hours before getting up at five and showering again.
Ashton came over one day. Annie smiled, but didn't react as strongly to Ashton as she had Luke.
Calum would go to work and Michael would greet him with a smile. His leg had healed pretty well, despite him loosing a lot of blood. Michael dyed his hair purple. Life went on.
For everyone besides Annie, it seemed. She still refused to go outside, still seldom talked. Calum still had to get lots and lots of shampoo and conditioner for her.
