Fix You

Chapter Four

   Darcy walked into the room she had been sharing with Abby Dawson for the past couple of days now and as she did, she closed the door shut behind her without so much as the slightest sound. Her footsteps led the way for her intended direction, across the carpeted ground she so languidly paced over.

   Her feet left non-visible imprints against the ground, for they could never. Countless footprints found themselves lost within the fine wooly hairs of the gray carpet, otherwise serving as trappings for the memories of those who have inhabited this space in the past.

   Darcy had all the time in the world and that was precisely why she hadn't bothered to walk, move or live, for that matter, a second faster than she should have to. She grew exhausted of having to live in the fast lane. Her once quiet self was lost in the speed of light and the lack of it, as most of her nights were spent late, and having no recollection of it the next day, Darcy decided enough was enough.

   She was young but that was no valid excuse why she should have to live life where a big chunk of it was never even registered in her subconscious, let alone memory. Being with Jack was like a whirlwind, and not a good one either. They were caught up in an impending storm, a hurricane moving rapidly a lot of the time, that she was left tired and listless.

   He used to be a fun guy who made her smile with every word that left his lips, until his idea of fun diverged into a whole other arena that left the part she loved most about him alive but dead, present but no longer the forefront of their relationship. She left him not because the fun was over. She would never leave him in such a despicable way.

   Rather she left him because they weren't on the same wavelength anymore. It wasn't bad. What he did was by no means wrong in their book. It was just, she changed and her perspectives did too. He loved the high of parties and late nights, her high was found in closing her eyes and breathing. Breathing, that was what she wanted. That was what she needed.

   And so, that was what she did. Darcy inhaled air and walked over to the 20 x 24 mirror framed in white and hung up upon the wall in front of her. Exhaled, and she picked up the hairbrush lying on the table right in front of it.

   Several strands of her brown hair lay intertwined between the bristles but she neglected to pick them out, leaving them nestled on the bed, until further notice. Darcy pulled the hairbrush through the length of her brunette locks and for the most part they flowed down the long strands with ease, but that was only until the hairbrush momentarily found itself stuck upon a kink which she promptly brushed out. Leaving her hair to air-dry, the sweet scent of raspberries and summer days left her head and permeated through the atmosphere once again.

   Darcy looked up and someone who looked every bit like her, greeted her with a small smile that never left her eyes. Darcy stared at her own reflection for the longest second, transfixed in the moment. She wasn't vain but she could hardly say that about her past, coming from where she did.

   She looked intently at the girl in the mirror and tears pricked her eyes like sharp daggers gouging them. Pain was ever present and it flowed through her bloodstream, leaving her eyes as a waterfall of tears. This time though, Darcy neglected to wipe them away with the back of her hand.

   She allowed the tears to wash down her cheeks as a soothing feeling overwhelmed her in its entirety. Darcy wasn't weeping but in her silence and the eight long minutes of it, she felt a whole lot better than before. Allowing herself to tear up every long while in between a long while, gave Darcy a sense of calmness and she loved that feeling to no end. She wasn't upset, she was just a little tired is all. Tired of how she used to be.