Little Bird

Lucy Garth

Lucy lay in bed, her eyes focussed on the ceiling. She knew that she had no choice but to move today, lest she face the terrifying consequences of staying still. She figured that she had enough money to keep her at her current living standards for three months. Her options were not pleasant, either she had to overcome her anxiety and fight her way to a job, or she would have to drastically change her living standards and get by with the little financial aid that her mental illness would provide. She knew that in order to make strides either way, she would have to start small by just getting on with her day.

Lucy hadn't done much with her week other than lie in bed until her human needs requested a temporary change. She'd barely left her small flat for the last month, only leaving to get the supplies she needed to satisfy her needs. In her head she made a list of what she needed to do, the items on the list boiled down to: clean herself up and feed herself. She went about doing these tasks almost robotically; focused only on what she was currently doing and planning the next immediate steps.

In an attempt to be comfortable, Lucy had opted for a plush jumper, a loose skirt, and comfortable shoes. Her unruly brown curly hair was forced back into a pony tail, and no makeup sat on her olive skin or near her hazel eyes. She tugged at her skirt uncomfortably, her inactivity and reliance on comfort foods had caused her wardrobe to become too small for her. If she kept her poor habits up, she would probably need to do some clothes shopping soon, something she did not have the financial means to undertake.

After she had completed her list, Lucy proceeded to find the copies of her dismally short CV that she had printed in a short lived burst of determination once upon a time. They had fallen upon the floor, and she had to brush off a small layer of dust that sat upon it.

She hesitated to move any more, doubting the fruitfulness on the rest of the day. Could she bare waste her day outside, using up precious energy, when she could waste her day covered in blankets? A small part of her brain, which often lay silent, encouraged her to try anyway, if only to absorb some sunlight. With a small sigh, Lucy left, hope following her for the first time in a very long time. Sadly, she was potentially better off hiding under the blankets, blissfully unaware of the many eyes hunting for her that day.