IV

A Chapter by Jane

“Everyone knows.”

A girl whose name Laura had forgotten was standing in the doorway, looking at her through eyes of pity.

She’s got to be kidding me. But no, she isn’t. She’s squinting at me, still in her volleyball clothes, and I don’t even know her name. This is how far I’ve sunk. Consider that. Strangers come up to me to tell me they’re concerned, they don’t even know me.

Laura was scared if Alex would know. Had the news reached him yet? Fortunately he was busy and did not endeavour in gossip. Still it was possible that he heard people discussing matters about me lately… Laura wanted to cry, she wanted to be sad and curse everyone and sleep and dream of her future and the past. She would kiss Alex, perhaps, and tell him a million times she was dreaming of him. That it was real.

Sadly she was oddly smiling. Still looking pretty, still being still, heart beating evenly, breathing in, and out, she didn’t want this now. She needed to be mad, to release completely and have no energy left. Strangely she was savouring, though, and as each second stretched on she was having more schemes to abuse this absurdity.

She counted her blessings.

She was still a virgin. She was never drunk. She did no drugs. Her history teacher liked her. She could write songs when she’s emotional. She loved rain. Several guys had a crush on her. They even made a group chat about it ….

So what if everyone knew there were pictures of me half- naked?

… She was a fast runner. In literature she was a natural. She could prove and disprove things, math and physics weren’t a problem to her. The only thing that bothered her was Chemistry.

… Well that, and being healthy.

She never was that healthy, and when she was she was constantly baffled with how little she could digest, how prone she was to coldness and unease. Sometimes she could feel the mucus accumulating within - the thickness of it, grazing against the skin in her throat, beneath the tongue, high up in the ears…… it never stopped. Medicine had failed to cure her. Circumstances kept coming up, and she couldn’t get a second of honest rest. This sickness had continued for almost a year, consumed her confidence, isolated her from the world. This was her secret. She had to deal with the fact that something about her was wrong, and worst, there was no remedy. It was a shame, because spitting stuff whenever you’re alone is a disgusting thing. She didn’t feel safe doing it at school, where people could hear. She didn’t feel safe in her room, because her roommate could enter, any moment.

She couldn’t ignore it. Happiness was a distraction, but she would turn back to this reality.

Endurance was necessary, her mother had said, and failure to do so reveals a flaw in character. No matter what there was always hope. Light, at the end of the tunnel. But now she disagreed. Why couldn’t she walk above the ground, like other people did? Surely the tunnel wasn’t necessary. And what if you die before the end is reached? Then there would be no light, and ending sooner would be a blessing, to save her from such hideous darkness.

Finally, if life were nothing but a tunnel, she decided, there needs to be torches lighting her way. At every twist and turn, a companion, a hearty laugh or two.

That is what she lacked.

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