Enough | ✔️

+ 19 +

I press the ice to her forehead gently, pulling the duvet over the lower half of her fragile body. Her face is completely washed out and her body seem just as drained. She looks completely depleted of energy and life.

How many times has this happened now? This setting is becoming all too familiar and it's not a good thing.

Quorra winces at the cold sensation, stirring in her unconsciousness as I sigh.

I need to tell someone. What's been happening lately is not healthy and clearly nothing that I say is going to snap her out of it. Maybe finding her slumped over a stack of textbooks has been the final straw.

I glance over to the side table at Quorra's laptop, recalling the multiple times I've walked in on her and her sister's evening conversations over Skype.

Should I?

"What do I do with you, Quorra?" I murmur quietly into the room, removing the ice from her head and brushing away the bead of water that trickles down her temple.

After half an hour of mental debate, I find myself opening up her laptop and clicking on the Skype app.

She wasn't happy the last time you contacted her family, my conscience reminds me.

I block out my thoughts, reassuring myself that this is the right thing to do. This phase that she's caught up in is clearly causing her physical damage now; her cheeks are always sunken in and her skin pale, she looks eternally exhausted, and I'm almost certain that she hasn't eaten a grain of rice in the last week.

How long can the human body survive without food?

A little while.
But she's not drinking anything either.

That is enough to coax my finger into selecting 'Lara' from Quorra's contact list and tapping the call icon.

The thrum radiates from the laptop for half a minute as I let my gaze wander over to a sickly-looking Quorra. Her eyebrows are upturned with obliviousness and the peacefulness of sleep. For some odd reason, my heart thuds in my chest with anxiety. Will she be upset with me for this?

Never mind. It's for her own good.

I force myself to look back at the pixellated screen when Lara picks up.

"Hey, Q....uo... Damn, she wasn't lying. I swear, if I wasn't engaged..."

I turn my head at the odd greeting but return one nonetheless, "Hello, sorry to interrupt your day."

Lara laughs at my formality and smiles widely at the screen, "No problem, but I can't help but notice that you aren't my sister. Everything cool?"

I take in a breath, every muscle in my body tense, "Actually... Quorra hasn't been herself lately."

Lara stops ogling immediately and sits a little straighter, "What happened?"

"She hasn't been eating," already, I hear Lara shatter, "or taking care of herself in general. I found her unconscious at her desk."

I'm met with silence, and the guilt suffocates me as I flit my gaze over to a sound-asleep Quorra.

"I don't understand," Lara breathes, her overarching panic blatant, even through the poor resolution of the screen, "Why?"

She grows paler by the second as I look down at my hands, hearing the question I've been asking myself every day lately.

"I guess," I sigh, mood low, "the pressure got to her. She thinks your parents and I am against her. She pushed herself to study and locked herself away with her work. Her body couldn't take it anymore."