nefelibata (n.) | ✔️

eleven.

Present. September 19th, 2018.

My mother's outburst last night wouldn't leave my mind at all. I couldn't get an ounce of sleep, not one. It isn't like I wanted to think about her health, or her in general. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I couldn't.

The bags under my eyes could not be covered. The black makeup only seemed to draw more attention to them, so I skipped the eyeshadow and only applied my mascara and eyeliner. For some reason, I liked the less black look.
A knock sounded at my door as I pulled a black knit sweater over my head. "Come in," I said with a sigh.

My mother walks in with a shy smile on her face, her eyes just as dark as mine. "Hey, sweetie." She said softly. Sweetie? She hasn't called me that in a while.

"Hey Mom, I'm running a bit late so if we could make this quick?" I say as kind as possible.

"Yeah, no worries. I just wanted to apologize for last night. I didn't want to scare you; it just happens sometimes." Her hands are shaky as she brushes them through her hair. I felt terrible, I didn't want to leave her here but what could I do?

"You don't have to apologize, Mom. It's okay." I pull my mom into a hug, and she places her shaky hand on my head and rubs her hand down the length of my hair. I smile against her shoulder and relish in her warmth. I missed this. I missed her loving me for who I was and not hating me for how I expressed myself.

"I'll let you go now," She pulls away and looks at my face intently. "you look beautiful." She kisses my forehead and leaves my room. I wish every day could be like this, but I know it won't be.

After her episodes, her attitude takes a complete one-eighty for about a week, then she gets back to her usual attitude, bitchy and rude. I'm not sure what it is, I don't think I'll ever know. She'll be open to getting help for it after it happens, then she will be entirely against it the next couple days.

I button up my dark ripped jeans and sling my bag over my shoulder, rushing out to my car. I decide to skip my coffee this morning, realizing that I don't have enough time anymore.
My drive to school was peaceful, passing the waterfront always gave me peace of mind, letting my day start on a good note. The walk into school though, quite literally the opposite.

I fiddle with my locker lock, the combination seeming to disappear from my mind for a moment. I was so preoccupied with thoughts of my mother that I couldn't even remember a combination I've known since middle school.

"Why hello there Bright Eyes!" Carson greets me with a gigantic smile on his face. I would return the smile except for the fact that I simply don't want to.

"Hi, Carson." I sigh and rub my forehead and clench my eyes shut. Carson's gaze changes from gleeful to concerned, and he leans down to meet my eyes.

"What's wrong?" He frowns, questioning me kindly.

"Nothing just didn't get a lot of sleep last night." Since when was he visiting me at my locker? Since when was I letting him? I tried my combination again and pulled aggressively when it didn't work. "Ugh!" I grumbled lowly.

Carson put his hands over mine, and I flinched slightly. "Let me try. What is it?" I stepped away and nodded. I told him the three numbers quietly, and he pulled the lock open with ease. I mumbled a quick thank you and pulled out my textbooks. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'll be fine, just need to get some food in my system." I let out a long breath as I shove my books into my bag, pulling out some money after. "Thanks for asking."

My loose knit sweater falls down my shoulder, showing my skin, but I can't be bothered to fix it. I let the soft material run down my skin as Carson mumbles some complaint about the Art project we are working on. I grab a granola bar and a bottle of water from the vending machine and laugh at the last words I heard from Carson which were "making me feel like a headass."