Roxanne stared at her phone, lying on her back, on a bed, in a bedroom, debating on whether or not she should send a text message.

It was almost a silly sight. Like a young girl, debating on whether or not she'd send this confession of love to her crush, biting her lip, wondering if the confession was heartfelt enough, if it was too heartfelt, if it was a relationship worth pursuing, if it was going to change things forever between them, if that person loved her the way she loved that person, if they loved her at all. Wondering, wondering.

Things would've been much less shittier if it were.

But this wasn't her bed, nor her room, nor was it a reasonable time for her to be up, for anyone to be up.

Claire, I'm sorry. I was being too harsh. Can you please forgive me?

And it wasn't a confession of love she was scared of sending, it was something much more severe, heartbreaking. Much more pathetic.

It was Claire who'd broken things off. She hadn't been there, for the last few months. She'd been drifting, flaking out, doing God knew what. It was Claire who made her feel as though their friendship wasn't worth it, wasn't anything important, and could easily be replaced by something else, could be sacrificed for something far more significant.

Roxanne deleted the message.

The lights were on, despite how late it was. She should probably turn it off, but... the prospect of it scared her, for some reason. It reminded her of being in the dark, being alone, helpless. She didn't bother turning it off. I'll do it when I want to go to sleep, she reasoned, despite knowing how much of a shitty reason it was.

She didn't realise what was happening when her vision blurred. She blinked, and blinked again, confused as to why her throat was heavy, like there was something clogging it up.

She opened her glasses, scrubbed at it to remove any stains, dust, or grime or anything, anything at all, when the first tear fell, right into the lens.

For a pausing moment, Roxanne stared, unblinking, and more and more droplets of unknown liquid substance fell. Her chest became heavier and heavier, and it was so, so hard to breathe. She twitched. She hiccuped and sniffled and it didn't hit her, not yet, not until she was choking on air, rushing as she texted, relying on muscle memory and autocorrect rather than vision to type each words, forming them into sentences, pouring whatever it was that made everything ache so bad into this small box of technology.

Roxanne stopped.

Roxanne, through squinted, aching eyes, read.

If only you know, Claire, how much it hurts to feel like your best friend doesn't even want you. How much it hurts knowing that you can't rely on your best friend. Wondering if that person even is your friend.

And that was when it hit her.

Roxanne was crying.

And everything became a blur.

She was crying, and smiling, because wow, everything was so hilarious, wasn't it? She might be in mortal danger. She might disappear. Supernatural creatures fucking existed. There were people who weren't really people hiding in disguise amongst the civilians, and nobody could tell which one it was. People were disappearing. Teenagers, kids, even.

And yet- yet she was a complete mess because- because of a shitty friend being shitty.

She typed, hysteric.

Wow, Claire. People adore you, you know. You're cute, shy, polite. Everyone loves you, you know. How can I ever compare?! Why do you even hang out with me if you have better things to do, huh?! You're so busy, now! You clearly don't need me!

"Anne? Anne, I heard something. Are you alright?"

Roxanne started, and put her hand to her mouth and let her teeth sunk into it, digging deep. She couldn't let out a sound. Especially not a sound like whimpering or sniffling or sobbing. Not to Katrina. No. Not when she'd burdened them enough.

"C'mon, Soniya. It's probably nothing."

"No, no, Adit. I heard... It sounded like-"

"Give the kid her space, dear."

"But... but Adit..."

Roxanne gulped, took deep breaths, composed her voice, miraculously managing to sound cheerful when she said, "It's fine, guys! I just tripped!"

There were more noises. Whispers. Hushed arguments of a husband and a wife. Roxanne held her breath, wanting them to leave her alone. She didn't want anyone to see her like this. She didn't like it when people see her cry. It made her feel small, weak, like a helpless child. No one had ever seen her cry, not when she was old enough to understand the meaning of having a childhood.

Only Claire had seen her cry. In closed doors. Locked doors. In shut, curtained, blocked windows. In a dark room. In the dark. Where they couldn't see much of anything, only blurs of blocky objects. Where Roxanne couldn't see Claire. Where Roxanne pretended Claire couldn't see her cry, pretended the world didn't exist, pretended none of her problems existed, pretended it was just them who existed.

And Claire- Claire had never judged. She'd just sat or lay- she was just there for her, by her side. Never judging. Always supporting. Never trying to lift the mood, knowing that sometimes you just need to bawl your eyes out until you pass the fuck out.

They left her alone. Roxanne, much more composed on the outside and much more scattered on the inside, stared. She drifted her eyes, at her phone, and typed again.

You've been so good to me, Claire. Always taking care of me. Always being good.

Fuck.

Why wouldn't the tears just stop falling for one damn second?!

I'm scared for you, you know. And I'm scared for me. I don't know what's going on, anymore. I don't want tomorrow to come. Why are we even fighting, Claire? Why are we so difficult?

Things were weird. Complicated. Roxanne just wanted to sleep. But this wasn't her bed. This wasn't her home. Aditya and Katrina, no matter how good they were... They...

They weren't Claire.

Roxanne needed Claire. Claire's presence. Claire's quietness. Claire's observant eyes, always watching, full of compassion, understanding, and maybe a bit of confusion at times, but acceptance. Acceptance, towards her.

Roxanne laid her head on the pillow, at her side, facing the blank, bland white wall, lacking sleep, wanting sleep, and not getting what she wanted.

Hours passed, or maybe it was only minutes. Roxanne's headspace was too muddled to comprehend time. She, in her delirious, yet most honest state, pulled out her phone one more time and typed in one last message to Claire.

Unlike her many other messages, she sent it.

Are you one of them, Claire? Are you one of the people who want to hurt me? Is that why you hate me so much?

For a moment, Roxanne imagined Claire meeting Angel, Claire trying to hurt Roxanne, only for Angel to protect her. She imagined the opposite, too. Angel trying to hurt Roxanne, only for Claire to protect her.

Both of those scenarios was... wrong, somehow. Roxanne couldn't comprehend why.

Roxanne waited until she couldn't anymore, and there was no response, so Roxanne chuckled the kind of chuckle that said, 'Look at how much of an idiot I am! My life is a joke!'

Roxanne didn't sleep, despite wanting to. 

...

Hey, guys! I guess I should apologise for going AWOL, but hey! Not my fault both my mental and psychical health decided to drop so hard I'm surprised there are no cool bass riffs and sick beats (get it? Sick beats? Heh, aren't I clever?)

But yeah. I've also taken a break from writing "Suffocating" in general, at least until school have started. I have 2 other projects - one, a fan fiction, and the other, dedicated to a dear friend of mine - and I'd like to finish them both before school starts. Once school starts, I can get on writing "Suffocating" because I tend to avoid listening to class so badly I actually write the most descriptively during it. 

So, I'll still upload once a week, perhaps. Or maybe once every 3-4 days. Whatevs. I still have 7-8 chapters stored up. So it's not like I'm in a hurry. Byeeeeee~

(BTW, sorry if I sound kind of dismissive in a rude way, it's just that I've been dealing with ~a lot~)