𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐚✔

Chapter 6

"Honey, are you sick?"

Yes, Mom. I am sick. I'm the sickest I've ever been. There is an illness plaguing its way through my veins, leaving ugly graffiti on the calcium walls of my bones. It's writing things I don't want to read, don't want to know, and the longer I look away and keep my eyes closed, the worse it gets, the deeper it goes. I can feel its roots winding like snakes around my limbs, sinking its venom as far as it can into my system until I can't ignore it anymore, until I can't pretend. And taking the blankets and throwing them over my head does nothing but create darkness when I open my eyes, and like a lonely movie theater it's all projected on the screen of my comforter, playing over and over, the burning, soft roses that fell down snowy shoulders.

But I don't say any of that. I just grunt from my cocoon and Mom's hand pats my arm from the outside. She says something about calling the school but my eyes are focused on the pocket of sunlight that has managed to squeeze into a gap in the blanket and I'm not listening to her. Exhaustion builds up like concrete in my stomach. I hardly slept all night, and the reminder of that comes swimming back to me when I hear my bedroom door close and I yank the blankets back, searching blearily for the clock. Seven. In the morning. My body sags back to the mattress, unwilling to get up, to even try to move forward, but too scared to go to sleep.

I don't want to dream about her again.

One arm falls across my eyes, the other itching at my stomach through my tank-top. Around midnight, I had drifted into some level of dreamland, but it was all tinted red. I could smell her, what with her fruity perfumes and cotton candy lipgloss, and she was sitting on my lap with her fingers tangled in the depths of my hair. She was laughing. I was laughing. I was holding her waist and kissing her neck and it's making my body light up just at the memory of it all, the hazy frames that are what remain of dreams. Her hand had touched me like it had yesterday, curious and gentle but adventurous. I had woken up with a jolt to find my hand pinched between my knees, like my body was revolting against my mind, and the other way around.

I've never been all that good with conflicts of any sort. Man versus man, man versus nature, man versus self. When it comes to other people, I can be a kind of a push over, and if I even see a dark cloud swimming in the distance, I get all paranoid about there being a tornado and start heading toward the basement. And as for myself, fighting internally, battling my reflection - I didn't know it was something that could really be done, that it actually existed, but it is, and I'm at war, and I don't even know where the line is drawn or what I'm fighting for.

My hand falls across my chest, eyes still screwed shut. I hate this. I hate the way I feel like I'm torn in half - one pulsing where Chaeyoung had touched me, and the other aching for the normalcy that used to be. It seems ages ago when I was able to look at Chaeyoung like I did anyone else; a friend, someone to laugh with and talk to, a person that registered no higher than anyone else that I knew. Was prom just a few days ago? Is it only Tuesday for God's sake? How could everything I have ever known have possibly twisted itself inside out like this in such a short amount of time?

My bedroom door slams open, making me jump. I squint through my fog of fatigue to see Taylor standing with her hands on her hips, all bright yellows and pinks. Her hair is up, held together by a collection of fake flowers. Her eyebrows are arched, dark eyes flicking over me like she's expecting me to crawl out of bed and dance.

"Uhm, hello? Are you getting up?"

"I'm not going to school today." My voice is thick and growly. I give a quick cough into my fist before lowering it again. "Didn't Mom tell you?"

"Yeah, on her way out to some important meeting, and Dad's already gone. I have no ride."

I grab my comforter and tug it to my chin, falling back against the pillows. "Call one of your friends."