As I'm lying here

Tears pass down the warmth of my cheeks

I try to avoid thinking of you

And the times my eyes shone with tears

Of joy

-b.m

August 10th:

Elias has only ever witnessed death and grieving once before. He's only ever felt the chill of the light being lost from their eyes, watching as her body slumped in defeat. He watched as his aunt bleed out in front of his young eyes, Luella screams hysterics in his ear. Watched as his world shattered, his heartbeat arresting as her last, shallow breaths were murmured with one word.

Sorry.

Now, as Elias walks into the facility, that same feeling of death encaptures him. The sterile scent of hospital cleaner attacks his nose as the white walls enclose him. Everything is bare, as if the exhilaration of life is sucked out of the hollow people who sulk the halls, their eyes downcasted. Nobody looks him in the eye as nurses in conventional blue scrubs rush by. The light in their eyes faded as if they'd seen too much.

He feels miserable the more he walks these halls. The walls are growing tighter, closing in on him, and he can't escape. His pulse races as he advances down the hall the nurse pointed out to him, all different people staring at him through the glass windows on either side of him. Like prisoners, their palms flat on the glass, their eyes drained of any sort of pleasure.

Everyone in this corridor of the hospital is on suicide watch, people who have nothing left to give and no room to receive. The slow suffering of numbness washes the slate of who they once were.

Elias keeps his head down as his shoes scuff against the white tiled floors, the fluorescent lights overhead wavering. If possible, the hall grows more penetrating the deeper he stumbles, the farther he ventures into nothingness.

Elias has felt this worthless, this tired of fighting. All he can think of is how it could have been him in this hospital had he not had his parents. How some moments grow so dark, Elias thinks of ways to kill himself as comfort. The various ways he could end it, what hurts more, what hurts less. It is his solace. A toxic soothing but one that helps ease his dullness into pain.

He spots her room, the door to her room blank. Some people have designs on their doors, colorless pictures, but a sign of living. Mara's is empty, just a white slat door in the space between.

His hand rests against the exterior before he gets the courage to knock, the force knowing that she may just turn him away. It's been a week of restless nights and hellish nightmares, each ending in a different death. His voice horse with the restrained screams as he stirs awake, his mother rushing into his room to comfort him.

Every euphoria drains when Mara was lost from his life as if her presence had been erased. Elias went to work, he talked to nobody and came home to board up in his room. He had no other friends, no personalities to converse with.

"It's Elias," he whispered against the entrance, leaning all his weight into its friction. As if he believes he could feel her through it, her touch meeting his through the barrier.

"Go away," she responds back, her voice fractured. It is callous, so withdrawn it breaks another piece of Elias as he collapses further into the door. Like he can capture her words.

"Please, Mara," he begs, almost inaudible, squeezing his eyes shut, "I need to know that you're okay."

"I am as fine as I will ever be," she states with finality in her tone. Elias feels sharp again, tugging his sweatshirt tighter around himself, he realizes she's walked away. Retreating back into the room with white walls, white bed sheets, and the static of silence. Nothing to connect her to the outside world but a small window at the far end of her room.

Elias presses his back against the door, sliding down it until he's a slump on the floor. He brings his knees to his chest, his head falls between them, his fingers gripping the soft strands of his hair. He bites back tears as he has nothing left to contribute, blowing out a jagged breath between his lips.

"You think you can push me away, but I'm not leaving," he murmurs so quietly she wouldn't be able to hear. Not unless she is mimicking his position, with her back against the door, her head between her legs.

Taking the notebook she bought him long ago out of his coat pocket and the frilly pink pencil, he sets to work. Writing out everything he wants to tell her on notebook paper, the one way he is sure she will fully receive his words. Skipping past all their other words for a fresh piece of paper, it's crisp under his fingertips.

He watches the ink bleed into the document. His hands work faster, cramping. He doesn't stop, though, not until he's said everything he needs to.

Dear Mara,

I should start by saying, I've never written a note for a girl before, so you are considered special. I could be cheesy and say roses are red, violets are blue, no matter what, I'll stick by you- but I know you'd despise that. I'm a to-be English major. After all, I should have plenty of words to say to you. I can create something poetic, declare my undying love, but that isn't who we are.

So I guess I'll just tell you I'm sitting outside your door, with a pencil in hand, baffled at what to write. For some reason, words cannot describe our relationship, isn't that funny. I learned a lot from you, your satire, for one, but also your hard-headedness. Therefore you can say it's your fault that I will sit out here every day until you let me in, even if you don't.

My life has been consumed by you, so much so that I won't let you push me away, to cower me into fear. I've run all my life, but not from you. I don't know if you read this. Maybe you threw it away in the trash. But if you did, just know, I'll be here tomorrow. And the day after that. I'd said it before, time is everything we have and don't. I'd rather spend it with you.

Okay, um, bye.

Elias.

Mara watches as the piece of folded paper slides beneath the small space below the door, the sliver of light. Clutching the thin blanket in her fingers her heartbeat stutters as she stares at it with so much apprehension. As if it is a missile meant to slay her, she is utterly afraid of that piece of paper.

She can hear his depthless breaths, the movement of him leaning against her door. She is trying to push him away, to save him from her. That paper wis another weakness, another give-in to his words.

But curiosity got the better of her. Un-ostentatiously stalking to the door, she makes her footsteps volatile, in case Elias is still there. Daintily, she grabs the paper in her fingertips, holding it away from her as she is afraid. Fearful of the effect his words have on her, terrified that he's seen so much of her.

Elias is the one who was never supposed to know the depths of her bipolar. He was supposed to never see how dark it got, how wicked her mind could be without meds. Sure, she jokes about her visits to the mental facility, but that is the extent. It was charming banter. But this, whatever has stirred between them, is something so much more. And she is terrified to let him in, in fear that she will one day hurt him significantly more than this.

That is why she stares at the paper for minutes, just looking at it, her fingers shaking. Peeling back the folded sheet, the words blurred together as she sucked in a heavy breath.

And she is sobbing, silent tears because his words mean so much. His charm, bleeding through, is written between the lines. The hesitation of his statements, his understanding of her. More teardrops leaking out her vitreous blue eyes, staining her pale cheeks as she bites her trembling lip, reading over the words repeatedly. Her darkened eyelashes fluttering shut as a soft smile finds its way on her lips, her fingers tracing where he has kissed her. Where he seared his burning touch on her skin.

She really did love him, and she was scared.

- Elias Journal -

I love a girl, and I don't know what to do but wait for her to love me back.

She is slowly killing me. But I'm holding the blade to my heart if it is her twisting the knife. I will let her shred me to pieces if it is her who is to put my puzzle back together in the end. I will watch her drown me if she is my last breath, my final vision to live within eternity. She is in control of me, and I don't mind, as long as it is her who takes the reins.

I love a girl, and I don't know what to do but wait for her to love me back.

---

Authors Note:

A short, cute chapter to cut all the sadness. It gets fun from here so stay tuned.

Like, comment, follow.

- Nia

Edited 4/6/22