Remembering Delilah

Day 18:
I wake up with tear stained eyes. I had another dream about her, I imagine it's exactly what really happened. As if in slow motion, she starts to run, faster and faster, nearing the edge. She leaps off, anticipating the easy end, the release of her depression. Launching herself off the bride. Connecting with the ground. Splat. I shudder as another tear escapes my swollen eyelid.

"She's not dead. Not yet" I tell myself, "And she's not going to die. She can't." I whisper repeatedly. I pull my legs to my chest and curl into a ball under my soft blankets. Her tragic story is flooding all through social media, which is why I stay as far away from my phone as possible. People everywhere, some who she doesn't even know, some who absolutely hated her- they're all praying for her recovery. They carry on with their lives while I sit here in my crowded room, alone. This is what you have done to me Delilah, you tried to solve your own problems and left me to fend for myself.