I don´t like the person staring back at me in the bathroom mirror. The dark circles to witness another sleepless night, the ravished and bland brown hair, a couple spots and an overall dry skin, almost transparent. But there´s nothing I can do about it. Every time I close my eyes, the nightmare start, almost as if I hit the play button everytime my lids close.
The same scene, over and over. Going up the stairs anxious, rushing, knocking on the door without any response.Pushing the door only to find it open. I slide inside and call her name, but the silence creeps up on me already. Only that lately, I manage to wake up before going into her room. I realize that I´m in a dream so I shut my eyes tightly. Then, I wake up with my heart pounding and very cold, my extremities feeling as if they were dipped in ice water all along. Before, when the dream went on and I would enter the room, I would wake up with my stomach all twisted and rush to the toilet to throw up. So I guess it´s getting better now.
It´s 3 am and I got nothing better to do than pack the rest of my luggage. Sick of everyone trying to fix me, I decided to go to college as planned. Elie also insisted that I go, surprisingly.
So here I am, surrounded by clothes and tech gadgets, shoes, and cosmetics, sorting for over a day now. And on a top shelf, the pink and glitter hello kitty notebook. Elie´s diary. Her mother came over, a week ago, and handed me that collection of Elie´s memories and feelings because she ¨felt in her heart that her daughter would have wanted me to have it¨. I did not tell her that Elie, who was standing in the room with us was quite embarrassed and would have rather burnt that notebook.
Nothing will ever be the same, will it? Everything seems so meaningless now. Going to college, getting a good job, falling in love, being successful. I see no point in it. It feels like running around for a purpose that changes constantly, a purpose that serves no meaning when it all ends. And it all ends, at one point. It all goes back inside the box. So why the struggle?
But because I can see the pain on my parent´s face, because even my dog, Bailie, seems sad whenever she comes near me, because everyone watches me with sad watery eyes I decided to pretend that life goes on.
¨I´m so tired, can´t we just sleep now?¨ Elie asks from across the room, her blonde her falling in beachy waves over her shoulders and running to the middle of her back. Her blue eyes are small now and her eyelids are red, tired.
¨I guess we can try.¨
So I give up trying to zip the luggage and turn the lights off. I slid under the blanket and Elie does the same thing. It would be lovely if we could keep each other warm, but since Elie is just a ghost that´s out of the question.
¨Nighty night. ¨she whispers.
¨Sleep tight.¨
I close my eyes and presses the button…I´m running up the stairs and knocking on the door. No answer…
Lily in Writersland 