don't speak.

chapter eight

I woke up in a heavy sweat, and I couldn't breathe – a feeling I was becoming all too familiar with. Shit shit shit shit shit, I thought as I crawled over to my duffle. I thought I was getting better, I held Riley's hand, I thought I could make it without the pills. I grimaced as I felt his hands run across my body. I shuffled through my bag with no luck of finding the sleeping pills. I finally retrieved the bottle but when I tried to remove the cap it recoiled and sent the remaining medication in fifty different directions around the room. A small head popped up from behind the couch, please don't be Riley, please don't be Riley I mentally pleaded.

"Maya?" A voice chirped. Smackle. I leaned myself against the arm of the couch and tried counting. I'd seen people do it in movies and it always seemed to help them. "Maya what's wrong?" Smackle stirred from her sleeping position.

"13...14...15..." I continued to count, I squeezed my eyes shut as I rocked myself back and forth – why wasn't the feeling going away? I could feel myself slipping out of my own grasp, and it was as though I was numb to every other feeling but that. Smackle looped her arms through mine and dragged me off into Riley's bedroom, somehow managing to prop me up against the edge of her bed.

"Maya I can't help you if you don't help me." She said in a whisper that had the passion of a scream. My head was held up only by her hands as she forced me to look at her, Smackle's face only inches from mine.

"I'm okay." I croaked, trying to focus on the sensation of her breath sweeping across my face. "I'm fine." I said more confidently as I pushed her off of me.

"You are not fine!" Smackle insisted, pointing her finger accusingly. "You've been wearing baggy clothes, running off to the bathroom every thirty seconds. Maya what's happened to you? Are you-"

"Smackle stop!" I threw my hands up defensively, "Just stop! Stop it – would you stop?" My head dropped into my hands.

"It's just –" My voice cracked, "Could you please not be a genius this one time? Could you not figure this one out? Because I can't even figure it out." I looked up and I could've sworn I saw her face soften.

"Every time I think I've pieced it together someone shakes the etch-a-sketch and I'm back to square one. So if you want to help me please just – don't help me." Smackle stood stiffly, and I felt too exposed. I looked around the familiar room and it felt like a stranger to me. Like I was seeing these purple walls for the very first time and the butterflies on them laughed at me. These walls knew too much. They knew my secrets. My past. I watched as the ceiling spun around, warping the room around me.

"Maya are you alright?" Smackle's voice was muffled and distant, I forced myself up – gravity fighting against me.

"I have to go." I mumbled as I tumbled out of the room. I grabbed my bag and my jacket – not bothering to clean up the mess of medication I'd left sprawled across the floor. I think someone called after me, maybe Riley, maybe Smackle, it didn't matter. I just kept going. Letting my feet carry me away.

When I came to I was shaking right outside of my apartment. My hands were covered in blood; I'd been clenching my fist so hard my nails penetrated my skin – something I never thought to be possible. I'd always thought your brain would stop you – like it does when you try to bite through your own finger. Sad isn't it? My own brain wasn't even protecting me anymore.

I fumbled around for my key. When I finally went to open the door a small yelp escaped my lips as my hand slipped off the door handle. Apparently my nails were longer than I thought they were. Finally I managed to open the door and slid into the apartment. My hands trembled as I pulled hydrogen peroxide out from under the kitchen sink and I'm not sure what hurt more – pouring it over my hands or opening the bottle.

When I was finished I propped myself the counter, "Mom!" I cried out, the tears rolling out of my eyes stinging into my cheeks. "Mom?" I sobbed again.

"What? What is it sweetheart what's the matter?" My mom said rushing into the kitchen. She was trying to put the back onto her earring. She looked great and I immediately felt horrible – she was getting ready to go on a date with Shawn. I couldn't bother her with my little issues, not now.

"I just-" I tried to force out a laugh as I held up my hands, "I tripped up the fire escape." I lied.

"Oh baby-girl, come here." She pulled me into a hug and I didn't fight it. She reached underneath the cupboards and pulled out some athletic tape which she wrapped around my palms. I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and sent her off, holding onto my arm as she smiled out the door.

I walked into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I was home alone but there was something so exposing about keeping it open – free for anyone to look into. I unearthed my phone from the depths of my duffle, sliding to unlock it. I only had one new message – from Riley.

Riles: Smackle said you got sick and had to leave! I hope you feel better!

I frowned, it was a Saturday morning. Before my phone would have been blowing up with notifications. Party invitations, tagged photos of my corralling my friends around the party area – holding my breath to keep from breathing in the mug of alcohol. There was nothing that could stop me on a Saturday morning, the world was my oyster and I was its... whatever. Now all I wanted to do was disconnect from the world – no be a part of it. So that's what I did. I plugged my headphones in and leaned back in my bed – ignoring the rest of the universe.