.09
"Why won't you answer my calls?" Danny appears in front of my door, arms crossed. She looks like she's about to go out - her makeup is done nicely and she's wearing a floral crop top. Compared to me - which I was wearing sweats and a stained shirt - she looked like a million bucks.
Ever since my brother showed up last week, I've been ignoring everyone. Well, just Danny, and work. And occasionally a weird number would illuminate my phone's screen, which I would automatically send to voice mail. I was starting to burrow deep in my mind, a place untouched and safe. Away from people, away from feelings and worries. I wanted to stay in the calm place and never leave.
But here she was, my only friend upset in front of me. We were never even that close, just two people that get together every weekend and drink like our lives depend upon it.
Her presence was threatening. I didn't want to leave the quiet place. I wanted to stay here forever.
"Sorry," Is the only thing that escapes my lips. I wasn't sorry. I just wanted her to leave.
She rolls her brown eyes. "Well, get dressed. We're going out."
"No, thanks. I'm feeling ill," I lie, an aching spreading through my stomach just thinking about leaving. There was no way I'd leave my apartment.
"Come on, Chandler. Stop feeling bad for yourself and get your shit together." She demanded, crossing her arms.
I was so far gone, her words didn't effect me. "Sorry, Danny. But no. Maybe next week." I didn't let her say anything else before I shut the door in her face, twisting the lock.
-
I stared at the white wall. Thought nothing.
There is an art I have perfected to being able to be so uninterested in this world that, for minutes at a time, I could simply stare at an inanimate item and be able to turn off. I wouldn't have to think. Just stare unblinkingly into space.
I had been doing this for hours. It was around 10 pm when I kicked Danny out, and now it was well pass eight am. I had not slept at all, merely even blinked. I couldn't.
The dreams had started yesterday.
They weren't dreams, really, but memories. Of Annie.
I woke up crying, sobbing, and couldn't stop for well under an hour. There was no way I could do that again.
Instead, I popped pills.
They kept me awake, along with a few cans of Monster. I still never felt the pull for sleep, the usual expected exhaustion.
I felt blank. Bland. Done.
Done. Done with life. Done with people. Done with disappointing everyone. Done with feeling.
I guess that meant I was suicidal, although I didn't feel like it. I wasn't plotting ways to end my existence. I was just done with existing, and I wanted it to end.
A pounding on the door makes me almost jump, surprised at the noise. I wasn't expecting anyone - I had pissed off too many people, I figured no one would want to come back, to see me.
I drag myself off my bed. Put some pants on. I don't bother to change my shirt, the one I'd been wearing for a few days now. It had stains dotting it, but I didn't seem to mind. Not anymore.
I opened the door to see a boy with brown hair, brown scruff on his angular cheeks and a perfectly chiseled jaw. Zayn was wearing a leather jacket and black skinny jeans.
I was speechless.
I hadn't thought about Zayn since the last time I saw him, at his house the previous week. I was slipping into a coma like state, and guys weren't on my priorities. And I tried extra hard to keep Zayn off my mind, the way his touch felt against my skin rattled me too much and I couldn't be fooled into thinking things were ever going to be okay. It wasn't that easy.
"Danny had a strop last night." He said bluntly. I wondered what a strop was, but just stared at him blankly. "Get cleaned up," Zayn instructed, pushing past me, into my apartment.
I don't remember giving him an invite.
"Nice flat," He commented, his eyes scanning the interior of my apartment. I watched him, not incuriously. I could already feel the calmness I had holed up in this past week being slowly ripped away, leaving me tumbling into a frantic state of mind. I willed it to come back, to wash me in the tide, but to no prevail.
Why did seeing this british brunette cause so much drama in my mind?
"What are you doing here?" I finally spoke, annoyed at the fact he was here, disrupting my peace.
Zayn glanced at me. His eyes softened, trailing down my body - no doubt judging my appearance and clothing choices. "We're going to breakfast. And then I'm taking you out for the day." He seemed so sure, so full of himself that I felt that sick feeling again - the feeling I got when Danny tried to get me to go out clubbing with her the night before. There was no way I was going to spend the whole day with Zayn.
"I feel ill," I lie. "Sorry."
He gave me a look. "You're not fooling me. Get ready, unless you want me to drag you out of here looking like that."
I crossed my arms. "No."
Zayn mimicked my actions. He looked funny with his arms crossed, his expression amused. "Yes."
"Zayn, get out of my apartment. I don't want to go anywhere." I said, trying to sound demanding, authoritive. He didn't budge.
"Chandler, change. Now."
I debated on whether just going to my room and locking my door. Maybe then he'd get the memo.
But something tickled in the back of my mind. Maybe if I just got through a day with Zayn, I could wash my hands of him. Tonight, I would brainstorm ideas to end this.
This, as in my existence.