Intertwined

Chapter One

The day started like it did any other, with the sun rising.

It was a Friday morning, and I had nothing to get up for. Well, there was college, but I don’t think that counts for much.

Clenching my fists, I prepared to sit up. As I slowly curved myself into an upright position my world began to spin. I waited a few minutes; eyes squeezed tightly shut and hands digging into my thighs. When they open, the ringing begins.

I dragged myself out of bed, rubbing my temples to ease the sound. My therapist advised painting my room a shade of sky blue in order to ‘create a relaxed space’ for myself. I don’t think it works. I hate the colour blue.

I shuffled towards my bedroom door, grabbing a chunky knitted cardigan off of my headboard and wrapping it around my torso. My new therapist says that being comfortably warm is one of the first steps to unlocking a quiet mind. I don’t think my new therapist will last long.

I try to avoid looking in the mirror that is positioned on my desk, as I know what I would see. A girl whose face is too thin, her cheeks sallow and gaunt. If you looked closely you could see the faint brushstrokes of bruises on my temples, the tender imprints of hours spent massaging my forehead. Shadows converged under my swollen lids, where my brown eyes lacked the appeal they once had. My hair used to be thick, falling to my shoulders in a feathery curtain of blonde curls. Now, if I were to look carefully, I would just be able to make out several clumps of blonde hair lying loose on my pillow in the background of the reflection.

I try to avoid it, even though I know exactly what I will see.

My sister Lydia is sat at the kitchen table, spooning cereal from a bowl. She looks up when she hears me coming, brown hair swishing around her shoulders from the movement.

“Hey,” She says softly, setting her bowl on the kitchen table. “How are you?” I know what she really means by the question, even though I wish I didn’t. I look at her face; the slight smile resting on her lips that doesn’t quite distract you from the tension in her forehead.

“It’s not so bad today,” I shrug, heading over to the breakfast table and settling into one of the hard backed seats.

“Liar,” Lydia offers me a small smile, and I let out a laugh. “Have you taken your meds?”

“I only just got up!” I protest playfully, scraping back the chair and trying to cover up my wince at the sound.

“Caro, you need to take them every day!” Lydia frowns. The pinches across her brow become more pronounced, and I hold up my hands in a gesture of defeat.

“Alright, mum,” I say, stretching on my tiptoes to reach the cupboard door. I take out the familiar packet, turning it over in my hands and shaking a foil strip into my palm. I pop a small, circular pill into my mouth before placing the tablets back where they belong. Lydia shudders.

“How can you do that?”

“Plenty of practise,” I smile ruefully in return. “Don’t you have a bus to catch?” Lydia glances at the clock, and then begins scrambling about trying to sling her bag over her shoulder whilst stuffing her phone into her blazer pocket. I gently pry the cereal bowl from her hands as she untangles herself from the headphones looped round her neck.

“Thanks, I’ll see you later,” She kisses me on the cheek before hurriedly making her way to the front door. Despite how mature she seems, I know she’ll be doing her homework on the bus whilst chatting to her friends, probably about who’s going to get booted off X Factor this weekend, or whichever Year Eleven boy they’ve decided is the greatest thing to walk the earth this time. I could remember I was like that myself at her age, but that was before the ringing started.