calum --
some days you just break down. you can't stop crying, and every little thing sets you off.
mom's at work when this happens to me. so, i am alone. i'm thankful for that, because i'm an ugly crier, but the loneliness is just icing on the 'happy mental breakdown day!' cake.
when i receive a text from luke, saying he's beyond bored and that we should hang out, i throw my phone against the wall. i am thankful that i can't hear it shatter and fall into pieces on the floor.
i hide my face in my pillow, pulling the huge black fleece throw over my head as another fit of sobs shakes me. i don't hear anything. i don't hear myself crying, or my bedroom door opening, or the soft whispers i can feel against my cheek.
i don't look up. my face is wet with tears and my eyes are most likely bloodshot. on top of that, my hair is total shit, and i'm not wearing a shirt.
the hands rubbing my back are not luke's, or my mom's. they're not michael's, as i wish they were, but they're familiar on my skin. i reluctantly bring my head up, smiling a bit when mali-koa's warm face greets me.
"hey, loser," i focus on her lips, and the thought brings another bout of crying onto me. i wish i could make eye-contact when i had conversations. i wave weakly before crawling back under the blanket, the black fibers shutting out light and leaving me in utter darkness. i'm afraid of the dark, but today it welcomes me like an old friend.
i feel mali's presence leave me, feel her light footsteps shaking the bed-frame, and then she's gone. or, i just can't feel her anymore. then the mattress dips where her body takes up space and i shudder with another sob. mali is confident in herself, she can take up space and breathe oxygen without feeling she's wasting what someone else could've used. i am not her.
her hand is on my back again, except this time it's on top of the cover instead of under it. then she taps my shoulder and i look up, biting hard on my lip when i see the shattered remains of my cellphone in the palm of her hand. "sorry," i mouth, barely readable as i would've mumbled it if i spoke.
"the whole screen is like," she pauses, racking her brain for words, "destroyed. what the heck, man?"
i turn my body so i'm facing her and take the phone from her hand. then, without warning, i throw it again and lay my head in her lap. her fingers run through my hair and for a minute i'm content. then her phone buzzes in her pocket and she struggles to pull it from her tight jeans. i sit up, looking away when she answers.
mali grabs my shoulder and forces me to look at her. i bring my eyes up and watch her lips as she speaks, "i have to leave, alright?" i nod. i don't want her to leave. "cool, see ya little bro."
she hugs me for a long moment, her hair falling on my chest, before pulling away and leaving my room without another word.
i wait until the front door is slammed shut before i cry again.
an hour after my sister has left, i go down to the kitchen and rummage through the cabinets for a while. nothing seems satisfactory, even the jar of nutella seems mediocre and pitiful.
i don't eat.
my stomach growls when i catch a glimpse of the landline ringing and see luke's name on the caller id. i don't remember anyone saving his number, but then again nobody tells me anything.
i let it ring, since i can't answer. i can't help but wonder why he'd want to call my mom, since usually when i don't answer my texts he just comes over. i shrug it off, heading into the living room. there's a cotton blanket on the sofa that i wrap myself in. i'm too weak to reach for the remote and turn on the tv, not that there's much of a point to that.
