Indecorous

Chapter Eighteen: I'm Done

Everything within my being was completely numb, completely withdrawn from any contact, from any feelings, from any communication. My phone had died not too long ago on the Sunday afternoon, as I laid motionless in my comfortable bed, knowing it would be the only thing to provide such security.

I couldn't possibly go out today, or tomorrow, or the next day. It would be too draining-too much to handle. And I didn't.

My head was firmly planted on my pillow as the rain patted lightly against my thin glass window, knowing if it had been hail, the whole thing would burst. And if that had happened, I don't think I would have entirely reactioned. I would probably just get up and move into the spare room, without a sigh or any noise for that matter.

Aviary knocked on my door a couple times, but I didn't have any willpower to answer. Her soft voice would muffle through the door, asking if I would please open up or if I wanted to talk. She tried and tried, sliding me miscellaneous things under the measly crack like cookies or some notes with her prominent swirly handwriting.

I would only smile softly to myself then turn away.

It had been about four days in total, before I successfully functioned as a human again, remembering the first time I walked out of my room. Aviary had been sitting on the couch, watching one of her drama shows. She was bewildered to see me, as she was unexpecting me, but then she would provide a sympathetic smile, standing up and engulfing me in a big hug.

"I'm sorry, Amelia," She muttered into my hair, probably feeling the soft tears fall onto her pajamas.

I didn't say anything back, nor did I trust my voice to even mutter a word. So I only gave a half-assed smile and got some food, realizing that hiding from Aviary and getting the food when she wasn't looking wasnt cutting it anymore.

Aviary had informed me that James came by a couple times, though saying it as if she was walking on eggshells. She didn't mention his name, only referring to him as 'Mr. Asshole'. I laughed at this, sounding like a dying cat, but beginning to feel better.

She also told me that Ben somehow got ahold of her number and told her to tell me to call him when I got the chance. So, on Thursday night, I finally plugged my phone into the charger, nonchalantly walking away from it as I didn't have the burning desire to respond to anyone at that moment.

I washed my face and ran a bath, thinking of the last time I had used the thing. Obviously, it brought a frown to my face, recollecting the tenderness and comfort James had brought me that night, though I was ridiculously drunk.

I tried my absolute best to forget the memories, pushing them the farthest they could go from my cognisance.

The only thing I couldn't forget is the painful images of James with that woman, who I learned was named Charlotte. James had texted me saying, 'Charlotte and I aren't anything at the moment, Amelia. Please talk to me...' Blah blah blah, I didn't care to read the rest.