Darkness Ethereal | K.TH

The Days After

I haven't moved from my bed in forever.

I know I should eat— drink something, at least— but I can't find the strength to move from the bed that I feel like my body is carved into. Depression had never felt so close.

I blink, and it's the most exhausting thing to do in the world.

And then I close my eyes for what seems to be the millionth time and let my disorder carry my consciousness away, somewhere where I'm not sure it might be able to come back.

__________________________

My throat burns.

Fifteen hours had passed since I'd last closed my eyes, and my entire body feels like it's going to shatter as I roll off the hot mattress. My vision is blurry with the tears that I'd shed in my sleep.

Breaths come shallow as I put a cup to my chapped lips, no doubt looking like a skeleton that'd come back to life. The water douses the fire in my mouth, but I can't help but feel that it tastes more bitter than I'd remembered.

Melancholy fills my gaze as I glance at the fridge, knowing that he'd want me to eat something even though it'd taste nothing above ashes and dirt.

But I also know he doesn't care, not anymore.

I bite my tongue as I catch an empty look at the sunrise, dawning over the city that had taken my cherished from me. Some part of me wants to see it go up in an inferno of flames, drown in roaring waters.

Why should it be so peaceful when I was dying every second?

A sigh runs through my lips as I retreat to my cold, dreary room. Now I know how V had felt like while his eleven years of imprisonment, during his capture.

How did he live?

__________________________

A small ray of sunlight streaks through the absolute darkness of my room as I brush my finger over the cool screen of the camera, not strong enough to let go of the past.

I'd never be strong enough.

The girl that looks back up at me is foolish, unknowing. Her smile is enough to light up the skies and her cheeks are full and rosy, the definition of innocent beauty.

She doesn't know anything.

She's just happy with the person who'd taken these pictures, content with what the world had given her. Her eyes are alight with what I'd call love as she stares just right above the camera's gaze.

She's looking at the photographer instead of the camera.

Something chokes on my throat as I press the next button as fast as I can, watching picture after picture of the remnants of my past.

Then I finally arrive on the final picture.

I stare at V's soft smile for hours until the darkness comes back to take me away.

__________________________

Three days.