In the toilet bowl breakfast comes up again. It stings in my neck. The taste is sharp and nauseating, but at least The Yellow is gone.
I stay in the toilet for a long time. Then I rinse my mouth thoroughly with cold water, drink, drink, drink from the tap. Afterwards I washed my hands and the soap foamed white.
Kimberly's gaze is questioning as I enter the class.
-Sick, I mimic, and she smiles encouragingly. I dare not look at James the rest of the hour.
-Hey Bella, Mom says, as I put my bag in front of the mirror.
I can never put my bag in front of the mirror without thinking about that day.
Mom always says Hey Bella, when I get home now, I think she is trying to wipe the closed door away.
Hazel gets up and comes out to me. She has the same bright hair as me and blue eyes, but lately it has started to look so glassy see trough. Maybe it's just something I imagine.
I pick her up and cling to her. Much longer, not like I did before. It hurts. Like a piece of ice-cold metal that lays in my stomach. But I still clutch her to me, I need to.
-I have drawn something for you, Hazel says, and everything is just back to normal. It's like that every Friday. Hazel is no longer in kindergarten, Mother is took free from work to take care of her. And when she draws and I give her a hug, it's almost like before. Then i can almost forget that she is tired, constantly tired
- It's you, she says, pointing at a long-haired girl with fine blue pants and a white shirt on and a big crown on her head. -And it's me next to you, she continues and points at a little princess with a A-shaped dress and yellow hair.
- Why don't I wear a dress? I ask.
- That's because you're a prince. There can only be one princess, Hazel says, - and now I'm starting to draw a teddy bear. Isn't it cute?
I nod and mumbles something that she also has to go to artschool when she is seven, and no, how cute that is, but I can't get my eyes off the red dress. It etches itself into me, into my field of view, until I can't see anything but red.
-Did you have a good day? Mom asks.
She stands in the kitchen making food. Before I start to answer, she goes on: -Do you want food too? I'm making some to Hazel anyway.
- Yes, thank you, I say and sit down at the kitchen table.
- It's been a long time since you've had Kimberly home from school one day. Couldn't be nice.
I don't answer. There is nothing nice. Mother laughs and speaks when Hazel is awake. And then when Hazel is lying in bed, she sits down on the couch and tries to talk to me, but I don't want to talk, I don't want to remember that night when Wait started, I don't wanna wait, I just want to be normal and like always.
-And next week at artschool you must explain Cia why you haven't been there the last couple of times, right?
Maybe I mumble, but I know that i won't.
I'm not going to explain anything to Cia. And Kimberly also don't need to know anything. It's not her little sister.
