Dead Inside

Chapter Ten I know it will never change

I slowly open my eyes, giving up on getting any more sleep. I've been drifting in and out for ages and I can't seem to take the step into real sleep. I look around the room. I don't know this room. The walls are deep blue with white furniture. I push back the blankets and stand up from the bed. I look down at myself. Good I'm dressed. I didn't hook up with some guy and accidentally fall asleep. It's happened before. That was an awkward morning conversation, one I never wish to repeat.

I stretch while staring out the window, looking at the grey skies and the trees being battered by what I can only imagine are strong winds. A throat is cleared behind me and I whirl around. Max is sitting in an armchair in the corner with something pressed up against his left cheek. Last night comes back to me. I must have fallen asleep on the couch and he put me to bed. I make my way around the bed towards him and as I get closer I realise that Max has a bag of frozen peas held against his face. He has dark bags under his eyes. It looks like he hasn't slept all night.

"Are you okay? I didn't keep you up by snoring or anything did I?" I don't think I snore, but then again I've never hung around long enough for someone to tell me if I do.

"You have one hell of a right hook." I look at him blankly and he removes the ice pack from his face. He has a graze across his cheek and a big purple bruise is forming. He's going to have a black eye before long. Did I do that? Surely I would remember hitting someone that hard. Reflexively I look down at my hand and see that the skin on my knuckles is split. There is dried blood smear across the back of my hand. Wide eyed I look at Max. What on earth happened?

Seeing the panicked look on my face he gets to his feet and leads me to the chair and pushes me into it. He holds onto my hand and presses the makeshift ice pack over my bruised knuckles. I hiss at the cold and he pulls away. I shake my head and push the ice pack onto my hand.

"What happened?"

"You were having a nightmare. Woke up screaming bloody murder. I tried to calm you down and got a punch to the face for my troubles. I'm pretty sure the neighbour thinks I killed someone."

"I don't remember any of that. I am so sorry. Sorry I hurt you." I quickly get up from the chair and try to make my escape from the room so he can't see the distress that I'm sure is written all over my face. If I hit him that hard it must have been that dream. I haven't had it in a while. I wonder what triggered it. Then I remember accidentally clicking on the song yesterday. The one that was playing while it was all happening. Max starts to follow me from the room but I stop him.

"You lay down and get some rest I'll make some breakfast for us both. To say sorry" I try to sound chipper. I hope it works.

"Ah good luck with that. Not much food around. How about we go out to a ca –" His protests are cut off by an enormous yawn. I shake my head and push him back onto the bed being careful to not catch his eye. I don't want him to ask questions at the moment.

I leave the room, pulling the door shut behind me. I wait for a moment to make sure he's not going to get up again. Within a minute his breaths have even out and slowed down. He must have been really tired. I quietly walk over and retrieve my bag and head for the door. I turn the knob and much to my annoyance realise that the deadbolt is still locked. I look around quickly for the key but can't find it anywhere. I briefly consider the fire escape but a look outside tells me it's not an option. We are twelve stories up and it has started to rain. Heavy droplets are splattering against the glass in the lounge room. I sigh and drop my bag before heading into the kitchen looking for food.

He wasn't lying when he said there wasn't much food. All I found was milk, coffee pods, two pieces of what used to be bread (they now resemble a green fur rug), and a half eaten Toblerone. I make myself a coffee, put the music onto random, and settle myself on the couch with the chocolate and my sketchpad.