Hush.

17::Fizzle

Something happened to me over the course of the next few days.

I wasn't sure what, exactly. It was this cruel, suffocating weight that fell onto me, robbing me of breath and purpose. I didn't know if it was depression, or what. It seemed too severe even for that.

Ezra let me stay. He had no reason to believe me, or trust me, or house me, but he did. Even more he insisted I take his bed while he camped out on the couch. That didn't last very long, as I refused to rob him of his own bed.

The first couple of days were weird. We shuffled around each other, trying to get used to the fact of being around somebody else. I got the sense both of us were accustomed to loneliness.

And then one day I just . . . gave up.

I didn't talk.

I didn't eat.

I didn't do anything.

For the rest of the winter break I was a zombie. A statue. Merely taking up space, serving no greater purpose. Ezra managed to shove a few crackers down my throat, and some water. I couldn't do anything on my own. I couldn't muster the energy to force words out of my mouth.

I felt like the most useless piece of anything. I felt like I shouldn't belong. Not here, not there, not anywhere.

Eventually Ezra gave up trying to get a response out of me, leaving me to lie on the couch for endless periods at a time, staring at nothing. He would leave, and come back a little more bruised than before. He would try to force feed me, grow frustrated and give up. Even if I was in some horrid state of catatonia, I recognized his routine. Being able to guess his actions grew to be a familiar comfort. He would rise, take a shower, eat some breakfast, and brush his teeth. He would leave and go places I didn't care to ask, come back. Sometimes with groceries, sometimes with nothing. One time he returned with a bag of clothes for me. Just one outfit, general jeans and a sweater. They were a little big, but I didn't fault him on it.

I didn't deserve his kindness at all.

I knew something was happening to me, rendering my body useless to come to this big epiphany or realization that I just hadn't reached yet. I was waiting for that moment, and was content to wait until it happened.

When we returned to school, everybody could tell there was something wrong.

Annie Davis wasn't Annie Davis.

She wasn't spectacular, she didn't look beautiful, she didn't have that bright shiny smile. The new veneer had shattered and broken and was parts and pieces, scattered all over the ground.

My picture had splintered, cracked. I'd thoroughly seen through its demolition myself.

I felt like a ghost of the former me. No make-up, bland clothes, hair hanging loose around my shoulders. I could almost feel the bags beneath my eyes, the black hole in my soul sucking everything out of me.

Was this Annie Davis?

Everyone wanted to know.

When lunch rolled in I sat at a table by myself, seeking solitude. Refuge from anybody and anything. Ezra packed me a meal; apple, chips, and a sandwich. Already more than I'd had to eat in days.

I had popped a handful of chips into my mouth when they surrounded me. Like vultures preying on my weakness, they flew in. Carly, Amy, Lena, the lot. A couple others I didn't recognize. They glared, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what I had done wrong.

You're living. Isn't that what your mother said? Simply living is an iniquity.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to think about that. I knew I couldn't, because every time her words invaded like the evil toxin they were, they didn't leave. Ezra had found me plenty of times a crying mess on his couch because I let her words win. Because I let my situation take control of my life, and I didn't know how to get it back.