Three Is A Crowd

Chapter 27: Yin Yang

She's been sprawled in her bed for hours; so long she's lost track of time, the only indication that time has passed by considerably is the dark orange tint of the sunset filtered by her dark curtains and casting beautiful shadows in her room - scattered darkness mixed with rays of light, ironically reflective of Lauren's current state of mind.

Her stomach rumbles angrily, letting her know that it's been terribly neglected for the entire day, probably even the night before, and yet Lauren doesn't care. She remains unmoving on her bed, her arms and legs thrown as far apart from her body as she could, her only way of feeling free and uncaring, when her mind keeps her prisoner, shackled to every little doubts and insecurities she could ever possibly think and feel.

It's just one of those days; she always has them, when all she could do is lie in bed and do nothing but question why she's still alive -- or more specifically, why she's still breathing, even when she feels dead already. There's a certain disconnect to her being; it's like her body hasn't been informed that her heart and soul are already decaying somewhere she couldn't reach, and so she just needs to wait until her body gets the memo, and finally get all of her disjointed parts to be in sync, and just die altogether.

She's still lying on her bed, the sheets feeling warm and rumpled, and her room is entirely covered in darkness, save for a little hint of moonlight peeking through her curtains.

There's something gnawing inside her belly. Yes, she's still hungry, as she couldn't muster the energy to get out of bed to get something to eat, but no, it's not hunger that's currently making her feel nauseous or nervous or anxious or whatever it is you feel in your stomach that makes you instinctively want to wrap your hands around your tummy as if trying to keep something from flowing out of your body. Like when you're experiencing emotional pain and you feel this pinch in your heart and your hand grabs your chest as if it's gonna break anytime and you're trying to keep yourself intact. It's highly unnecessary, but oddly comforting. To have your arms wrapped around your belly, as if you could trick yourself into believing that someone else is giving you the comfort you needed, your hands acting like band-aid and cover all your festering wounds inside you, ones that you couldn't see, but ones you feel the most.

There's something icy cold inside her, just below her chest, and it sends her a constant crippling feeling of fear and uncertainty which she couldn't shake off. Not even if she sits in front of a fireplace for hours, it couldn't melt the icy pit of pure horror and despair she feels inside.

Lauren stops staring at her ceiling and closes her eyes. She hasn't experienced this for a while, at least nothing this heavy, ever since she has Camren and Camila as her more effective distractions. So, now that it's back, when she senses that there's a dark cloud about to loom in her once again, she decides to drive to her sanctuary and just let her mind do her thing.

It's not like she's entirely surprised. She's not. It comes and goes. She's used to it. This feeling of hopelessness. Of loneliness. Of darkness. Her sad acceptance of the reality that she couldn't be entirely happy.

Why couldn't she be happy? How could she have everything she needs -- or people think a person needs -- and still feel unhappy?  She couldn't even muster half a smile right now, or keep it on for a full second. She couldn't fool anyone with that half-hearted mask she usually puts on -- to convince people she's invulnerable, that she's not someone people could touch -- much more trick herself into thinking she's fine.

She's not.

When this happens, she needs to escape to the one place she could call her own.