Humor Me

Chapter 1: Drumstick and Amigos

Present Day

Knock! Knock! Knock!

I blinked my eyes not sure if I was asleep or awake.

"June?" He calls out, "Please open the door."
Who the hell? I think to myself. I'm barely able to register the knocking when he calls out again, "I only want to see you. See how you're doing. I won't even talk unless you tell me to."

I take a deep breath. His mere presence is freaking me out but his persistence is pushing me to the edge. I clutch the blanket tight around me and raise it up to my neck. Deep breath.
He can't even let a couple seconds of silence go by because he's at it again, "June. I know where you stash your emergency key. I'll grab it and let myself in. And in the off chance you've taken it away, Liv is on her way and she has a spare key."

I'm barely holding it together as the thought of them barging in is starting to send me into a tail spin.

Deep breathe, hold, release slowly.

I half grunt, half huff out a deep sigh as I attempt to get up from the floor. I roll over to one side and plant a hand on the floor and raise the upper half of my body. Why, I think to myself. I shift my legs under me so I'm sitting partly crossed legged on the floor. Can't they, I continue to myself. I push up with both my hands and feet to stand upright. Just leave me, whoa; I have to steady myself for a second as my legs struggle to adjust themselves to the sudden weight of my body. I take a small step forward to make sure my legs are stable. Leave me alone, I finish yelling in my head as I slowly walk around my couch to head to the door. My lower back and knees protesting with every movement I make. Geez, how old am I?

I swing the door open and he's standing there with a slightly surprised look on his face. I'm actually a bit surprised myself that I managed to make it this far. Our eyes meet and I can see the worry but happiness mixed in them. My best friend Danny, we've known each other since I can remember, been through thick and thin with him. "There," I say, extending my arms out, "you saw me," and I slam the door on his face. I make sure to turn the lock extra loud so he gets a clue.

"Damnit June," he calls out, "I'm not going to let you drown yourself in bed."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I can't take this anymore. "Just leave me alone!" I yell at the door.

"Screw this," I can barely hear him complain, "I'm not waiting around for Liv anymore. Where the hell is that key."

My heart starts pounding. Breathe, breathe, breathe. "Why can't you all just forget about me," I sob out. I'm crying? I hear shuffling on the other side of the door. "Why can't you all just pretend I died or something!" I choke out between sobs. I hear the key and door knob rattling and my body starts shaking. "I..." the room is starting to spin; "I'm better as..." my body is tensing up, "as a wild memory." 

Everything is coming through like static. I'm hearing things like an old radio that can't be tuned. I'm seeing things around me like an old tv set that is losing its signal. Am I floating or is the room still spinning. All I know for certain is that something is moving. Wasn't someone here, or trying to come in? Danny? Liv? Breathe. Who said that? Try to calm your breathing, something says to me through the static. I'm choking on air. Breathe slowly. She won't stop shaking. Its ok Juny. Just breathe in and out slowly. Breathe in deep. Breathe out slow.

I'm lying on the couch completely deflated. My head is resting on Danny's lap and he's running his hand through my hair. "I'm sorry sissy," he says quietly, "I didn't mean to push you so hard." I squeeze my eyes shut to hold back the tears but they start to stream down my face and I let out a small sob. "No, no, please don't cry," he tells me as he wipes the tears away from my face. If I had any strength in me I would wipe my own damn tears and push him away. But I'm weak, in every aspect. And with that thought the dam breaks and I feel it again. Failure, loneliness, worthlessness, uselessness, isolation, anger, fear, despair. I want to tell Danny to get lost but at the same time I want him to stop worrying about me and I don't have it in me to put on the act that I'm okay. No matter how well practiced I am at portraying that I'm fine I just don't have the stamina to keep up that façade anymore.