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✯ E V E L Y N ✯
I feel as if I'm dying.
It's pretty ironic, though. All this time I've wanted to kill myself to put myself out of my misery. I've been feeling like I'm dying for the past couple of years, I've been feeling like someone has a chokehold on me and I can't breathe as I struggle to drag oxygen into my lungs. And yet, the one time that I do feel happy enough to push poisonous thoughts out of my head, is the one time that my life almost ends. I hope that driver rots in prison.
It feels like my body is collapsing on the inside. My throat is killing me, and it even hurts to move my neck from its stiff position. I feel paralyzed and despite the fact that I can wiggle my toes and fingers, I can't feel a single thing. I'm numb inside and out, but I can feel the tears prickling at the back of my eyes. My stomach is hollow and grumbling, my head heavy and light at the same time.
I can hear everything, though. It's believed that something in my throat - my voicebox or windpipe or something else - caved in because the bumper made impact with my body from the torso up. The car didn't even try to swerve. I'm not entirely sure about the rest of the details, I only know what I caught from the hushed whispers of the doctors, but what I do know is:
I possibly won't be able to speak ever again.
The idea should evoke more panic inside of me. When I first heard, I tried to scream. It felt like there was a massive ball of sandpaper stuck in my throat as I opened and closed my mouth, trying to speak. I couldn't even manage a syllable. Not one fucking syllable, not even a vowel, not even a sigh.
Eva sits by my bedside, her hand squeezing mine and fingers shaking as she tries to comfort both of us. I know this hurts her more than it hurts me - even though I'm the one in physical pain despite the many painkilling drugs they've given me. She's whispering about her day, laughing softly and then whimpering hysterically as I drift in and out of consciousness. I can feel a pair of hands in my hair, a mouth kissing my cold forehead and the faint whiff of cologne.
One last time.
I pry my eyes open to catch sight of Eva and a brunette boy with gray eyes before I fall into darkness.
∞
☾A L I Q U I S☽
She's crying.
I can't see the tears rolling down her pale cheeks. I can't see the wetness shining under her eyes. I can't see her mouth turned upside in a crying frown.
And yet I still know.
There's a girl sitting by her side. Blonde hair and pink extensions done up in a French braid. Calliope looks at Evelyn, a pained expression on her face as she tries to come up with something that'll relieve the gloomy silence. Anything. I watch on.
