Beautiful, beautiful world

Non-apologising idiots

IV

IT'S DARK BUT not under dark, just dark. As in my dark. I'm exactly where I was before, on my bed, in a very uncomfortable position. ( I suppose everything about this situation is uncomfortable) I shift, my muscles screaming in protest, my body aching, And I also notice that I'm very hot (Not appearance wise obviously) my sweat making my clothes cling to my skin. Another moment passes and then I feel it: another presence. Just as I'm about to ask, the voice reveals itself,

        "Hey" She's speaking incredibly soft, just like she always does after the under. She's only this gentle with me, in situations like this. She always remains collected, no matter what happens and that's one of the things that are both annoying and good about her.

        "Hey" My voice comes out hoarse and weak. There's a long silence, before she speaks again. Her voice is still soft and careful, like I'm going to break if she says the wrong word. (The doctor advised her not to be so stern with me, I listened to them talk)

        "I sent her home, Jasmine, if that's what you're thinking about."

        "How is she?" She hasn't ever witnessed it happening to me. She knows of them, knows what they do to me and how often I get them. But she's never seen one happen.

        "She's fine, you shouldn't be worrying about her. How are you feeling?" She switches to mother-mode in an instant, the gentle tone gone. Her worrying tone remains. I almost can't tell the difference between her normal tone and the worrying tone anymore.

        "I'm.." How am I feeling? I don't even know anymore. It's like I'm sad about not being under, but I am sad about the fact that I went under. I know I shouldn't. I know it's unhealthy, it's wrong. But it's so addictive, like a drug. I can do whatever I want, when I'm under, because it's my imagination that's controlling what I see. My subconsciousness.

I don't do it on purpose -according to my doctor- but sometimes it feels like I'm choosing it. Like I'm accepting the offer, ruining it for myself. Like someone's saying "Hey you! Would you like to feel like you're in a dream?"

        "I'm fine" That's one of the things I've become really good at: lying. I can do it effortlessly and it's not even like I have to try. But of course, I can't know if she actually believes me. The one good thing about it, is that I won't, can't, look anyone in the eyes. That's usually what would give me up before, because it's harder to lie when looking into other people's eyes. At least I think so.

        "What, what was it about this time?"

        "I was at the beach, the one in the Maldives, with the glowing water."

        "The beach again?"

        "Yeah..." I've always had something with beaches. We only live two miles from the beach and I practically grew up on one. I learned to swim when I was just three and I remember going home that day, my parents beaming with pride and happiness.

        "We're so proud of you, Ally" They would say, and kiss me on the forehead and cheeks. I feel like it happened in another world. I snap back to reality, noticing that my mom's still holding my hand.

Her hands are warm, just like always. She's holding tightly onto mine, with both hands, like she thinks I'm about to disappear. I desperately want to see her face in that moment, see how she's looking at me. Is it with concern? Or is she disappointed? Angry? Will she ever look at me with pride, like when I learned to swim?

        "I'm sorry, I--- Jasmine just started speaking about-"

        "Don't be sorry, Al. It's not your fault. Remember what Ms.Rosario said" I can feel the tears well up in my eyes, the reality hitting me once again. I'll never be able to do anything I love. I won't ever travel the world. The only thing I have left is my memory and the agonizing fact, that I won't be able to make new ones. I fight so hard against the tears. I won't allow them to fall, I simply can't. Crying won't do good for anything. But eventually - against my will - They fall. And I just let them roll down my cheeks, wetting them. I feel the tears dripping from my chin, onto my legs, like a warm liquid.