The Winter Project

21. Cleo

As she sat in the Jacuzzi, Cleo felt nothing except for despondence. She had felt it all day, maybe even all week. Without the routine of work, the need to get up at 6am and the focus on something other than her own thoughts, she was starting to feel lost. Work stopped her from drinking on week nights, or at least limited her to half a bottle of wine a night. Work distracted her from her anger and her fears. Work made her so tired that in the evenings she would just fall asleep and before she knew it, it was 6am again and she hadn't had time to delve into her own thoughts.

She felt a total lack of focus, and it was starting to make her feel bad inside again. Really bad. The kind of bad that feels like howling and screaming and death right inside her stomach, the kind of bad she couldn't put into words so she wanted to write it in cuts in her skin, that kind of bad that she didn't know where it came from and she didn't know how to stop it. The kind of bad that made her want to have a drink. And another, and another until everything was completely black.

She found herself getting irritated with Isabel, something she had never experienced until very recently. Isabel was non-confrontational and never did anything aggressive towards Cleo that would warrant Cleo getting annoyed, and she would never ever betray Cleo or abandon her. Isabel was always there and always had been, sat at home eagerly waiting for Cleo to come and keep her company. Cleo was watching Isabel slowly come back out of her shell and become more independent, and it made her scared. She didn't know why. When she had woken up in the van and Isabel was gone, she went from a feeling of nervousness as to what had happened to her friend to anger. She knew her anger was being channeled at Isabel in the moment, but truthfully Cleo was angry with herself. She was angry that she was hungover and angry that she wanted a drink. She was angry at herself for being annoyed at her friend and angry with her friend for annoying her in the first place. Most of all, she was angry that she was burdened with such intense, unpredictable emotions and could only watch them spiral out of control with no way to contain them.

She drank every can of beer she had brought with her until she felt overexcited joy and finally, a feeling of intense tiredness that allowed her to sleep without dwelling on her feelings any further.

The next morning, Cleo woke up feeling groggy with a pounding headache only made worse by the morning light seeping in through the curtains. She sat upright and was met with the sight of Isabel, already showered and dressed and in the middle of applying a small amount of make-up. She was singing quietly to herself, Cleo assumed so as not to wake her. Cleo admired her friend; she was beautiful in the conventional sense. Symmetrical facial features, slim frame, long blonde hair and glistening bluish-green eyes. For those who knew the real Isabel, she was made ten times more beautiful due to her personality. She was empathetic, sensitive and passionate. She was loyal and proud of her beliefs and her strong set of morals. She knew what she felt about certain issues and wouldn't back down even in a fight she was losing. Isabel was highly imaginative and Cleo felt that she could create entertainment out of nothing. She was only sad that Isabel couldn't see all of these things for herself, that her self-esteem had become so broken somewhere along the way that she thought of herself as an empty shell of a person.

Throughout the day, Cleo thought more about the things she loved about Isabel. Isabel was organised, and when she had dragged Cleo out of bed at 8am it had initially irked her, but as they sat and filled their stomachs with complimentary hotel breakfast food, she was nothing but grateful. She half-listened as Isabel listed their itinerary for the day based on research she had done after Cleo fell asleep the night before. Cleo didn't particularly care what they did, so she agreed to follow Isabel and assumed it would be a fun experience no matter what they did.

Their first excursion of the day was an open-top double decker bus tour of Budapest. Cleo couldn't fully grasp how Isabel thought this was a good idea in the freezing November cold, but as the bus rolled up the hill and gave them panoramic views of the city as the morning fog dissipated, she was able to appreciate it. The lights glistened in the distance as the city woke up, and she felt herself wake up too. All of her emotions from the night before felt as if they were falling off the back of the bus and rolling away from her, and she wouldn't be able to get them back even if she tried. She and Isabel were laughing uncontrollably about the most trivial things; Isabel was on top form with her wit and humour on this particular day and Cleo could tell how liberated her friend felt. Even she felt it; the cold air stung her cheeks and her nose and even though it was unbearable to feel such cold as the bus sped back down the hill and threw wind in their faces, it was the most alive Cleo had felt in months. All she needed was to have fun and spend time with her closest and most important friend, and she could battle her demons.

They spent the afternoon in one of Budapest's famous public baths, admiring the art and architecture on the walls as they lounged in the calming waters. As the evening drew close, Cleo began to feel extremely tired and felt that the next logical thing to do was find a bar. Isabel agreed with her plan and they found themselves in a dark, grimy bar decorated with graffiti. The tables were sticky and the few men inside looked conspicuous at best. Isabel felt uncomfortable there, Cleo could tell, but she wanted a drink and they had looked for long enough for a suitable bar. Cleo washed down three drinks of rum and coke before Isabel had even drank half of hers. Isabel wasn't a big drinker; the loss of control didn't do her anxiety any wonders. Cleo wished silently that her friend would let loose for a change.

As they wandered back to the hotel, the sun had set and the streets were adorned with Christmas lights. In the distance they could hear music, and as they got closer they discovered a small but vibrant Christmas market. Isabel looked more uncomfortable yet again.

'I just don't enjoy Christmas,' she told Cleo as they walked past. Cleo could smell the mulled wine from a mile away and wanted just one cup, but Isabel was reluctant to even get close enough that Cleo would know where the smell was coming from. Cleo understood why; poor Isabel didn't exactly have a full family Christmas every year, but she wanted the mulled wine and was getting irate that something so simple was being made so difficult.

'Can we just stop for one drink?' Cleo snapped without intending to sound as angry as she felt. Isabel, looking taken aback, nodded sheepishly and allowed Cleo to push through crowds of people to find what she was looking for. She was satisfied to sit down and sip on her wine, but Isabel was now quiet and reserved, staring at the crowds around her with a concerned look on her face.

'It's so crowded,' she whispered. Cleo rolled her eyes. Of course it's crowded, why say something so blatantly obvious? 'Could we head back soon?'

'If you want to go back, go back,' Cleo shrugged. She didn't want to navigate through the crowds with an almost full cup of hot alcohol, so would go back on her own terms.

'I don't want to go without you.'

'Really? You were fine yesterday, having lunch by yourself. Big achievement for you, wasn't it?'

Cleo didn't know why she was talking to Isabel the way she was. She knew she was being sarcastic and she knew she was being horrifically mean about Isabel's mental health and her genuinely admirable achievements. She just couldn't stop herself. She felt as if she was under attack, like Isabel was trying to make her feel guilty for wanting one tiny little drink. It would take her ten minutes to finish it. All Isabel had to do was sit there for ten bloody minutes. Luckily for Cleo's growing headache, Isabel got up and walked away without another word.