"I'm happy."
My mother's eyes glared at me from the sofa, not a sympathetic glare but an all knowing glare.
"Mum, I'm doing okay." I repeated this for my benefit as much as hers.
"William, I won't be lied to."
Martin hled my mothers hand and squeezed it gently...whatever that means.
"Jules, he's doing very well consdiering. Comapred to some he's fantastic."
I rolled my eyes in my mind. Martin never wnated anything to be bad. In his world things had to go well and if something went badly then it had to be sorted out logically and rationally. This became a problem when my world ended.
"Exactly." I gave my mother one of my best smiles...I'd been practising it for weeks.
"William, I want you to know... you can talk to me. I am here for you, as is Martin, and we don't want you shutting youself away."
I walked over to my mother and kissed her on the forehead, "Thanks Jules."
"I'm heading over to Tom's."
The cold air woke me up pretty quickly. I undid my jacket, wanting to feel the cold air rushing through my body. It was a sense of life, a feeling that I can't describe other than being awake. And being awake was imperritve for me to feel. Sometimes I hate it. I pull myself into bed and lie there like a dead soul. Nothing living. Nothing alive. Nothing that wants to be. Just a whole pile of nothing.
And then comes the sudden urge to live. To try and keep the nothing away and to busy my mind with things. The feeling of actually being and of actually feeling anything, something that isn't heartbreak.
At the moment, I'm trying to stay awake.
I watch my breath glide through the air and I follow it with my eyes for as long as I can. My eyes just about can still see it when I see her. My heart stops, the silence rings so loudly in my ears. My mouth begins to get dry and I try to breathe in but it's impossible, my chest is too tight. Not only is she there but she's walking towards me, looking right at me.
"Hi Billy. How are you?"
I peered at my shaking hands, willing myself to go on.
"I'm sorry, I just...not yet."
I pulled away from her gaze and walked back the way I came. My bed was calling.
YOU ARE READING
Doubt That
General Fiction"I'm pretty sure there's something wrong with me. My imagination terrifies me and I always get lost in my own thoughts. I talk to myself. I'm always running 'what if' scenarios through my head. I'm incredibly lazy. I live in la-la-land. I'm always h...
