Say You Won't Let Go

09

Alexa

THE next day I was awoken by the sound of my phone dinging at what had to be about one hundred dings per second. It was Alison and Madison wanting to know what exactly happened at their party and if I was okay. When my phone finally stopped emitting that harrowing dinging sound, I close my eyes and attempt to fall asleep again.

Ding.

I shoot up, groaning. All I ask is for one uninterrupted day where I can just sleep my problems away and not sit around while wallowing in my own grief. Is that too much to ask for?

Ding.

I hastily grab my phone from off the nightstand, unlocking it so I can read the latest message.

Alison: are you ignoring us?

Me: trying to sleep actually which is kind of hard to do when I'm being harassed with messages

Alison: why are you still sleeping? It's 2 p.m.

My eyes widen as I look at the time on my phone. Did I seriously sleep that long? Why didn't anyone wake me up? I look back down at my phone as it dings again.

Alison: it's time for you to get up, Mads and I are picking you up in one hour, no excuses :)

Me: where are we going?

Alison: that's for us to know and you to find out

Putting my phone on the charger I debate whether or not I should just make up some excuse and stay in all day, then I realize that maybe I should go out with them today. It would be a distraction from the mess my life has become and a distraction is exactly what I needed.

After brushing my teeth and showering and doing all of the things I would usually do in the morning, I find myself staring in the mirror, not at all liking the girl I see. Her eyes were bloodshot and were carrying more bags than a porter. Her hair was a mess and was losing its shine. But what stood out the most, literally, were the bones protruding from her skin.

I shake my head and grab my concealer, smearing it onto the dark circles under my eyes. When I don't get full coverage I eventually give up, accepting that concealer could only cover so much and this was as good as it was gonna get.

As I make my way back to my bedroom I tug on some black denim jeans and a maroon-colored shirt along with a denim jacket, mostly to hide how thin my arms looked. It was almost enough to make me text the twins, telling them that I couldn't go out today.

But I needed this. I needed a way to mend the broken pieces of my life and locking myself in my room all day wouldn't help me do that.

When I made my way downstairs I didn't see my parents at their usual spot on the couch in the living room. But I could hear them in the kitchen, heatedly discussing something.

Discussing me.

"I just don't know what to do."

"Well has she been seeing the therapist?" My father questions.

"She refuses to go again, Katherine told me the last time she was there she didn't say a word and just sat there the whole session."

"Maybe we need a new therapist that-"

"No. Michael, nothing's working. I just don't understand. She doesn't talk to us about it and when I try to bring up the topic she immediately dismisses herself." She pauses before talking again.

"And do you see how much weight she's lost? What am I supposed to do when my daughter is suffering right before my eyes?" My mothers' voice sounds wobbly for a moment as if she's about to break down and cry.