DaySleeper

I walk the entire way to the shelter. I don’t know how far it is, but I left around two, and I don’t arrive until the sun was setting at five.

I put my things down at the reception area and hit the bell. The receptionist comes and sees me. Her mouth opens in what seems to be shock. I drop my eyes.

“Maggie! Your boy’s here!” the receptionist calls over her shoulder. I hear hurried footsteps and look up just in time for Maggie to grab me tightly around the shoulders. I reel back from the pain and whimper.

“I'm sorry!” she gasps, covering her mouth. I wave it off. After a moment of me bent over, to try to alleviate the throbbing pain, she touches my chin lightly and lifts my face so she can look at me. She kneels and our eyes meet. “Oh, baby,” she says, her eyes frowning. She pulls my face to her shoulder and hugs me gently.

“I—I'm s-so stupid! “ I sob, clutching at her cardigan.

“Shh,” she soothes, “You’re not stupid.”

“H-he said he’d ch-change for me! And I b-believed him! I am so stupid!” I sob. She clutches me tighter and the safety outweighs the hurt.

“No, you aren’t,” she says, “You just picked the wrong one to trust. Don’t cry, baby.”

I try to sniffle away some pain, but my nose wrinkling hurts. I hiss, and pull away, clutching it.

“Let me see,” she says. I let my fingers fall away and she gingerly touches it. “No real damage. Though that’s a spectacular bruise.” She jokes. I huff out a weak laugh. “Want to go to bed? Eat? We saved your bed.”

“Want to be alone,” I murmur into my hands as they cover my face again, “Ashamed.”

She strokes my shoulder gently.

“Is wing B empty?” Maggie asks.

“Yeah,” the receptionist says.

“Do you want to go sleep there tonight?” she asks me. I nod, and look up at her with watery eyes. I feel like I am 6 years old and crying to my mother over a scraped knee. She smiles and helps me up. “Is your cast coming off next week?” she asks. I nod. “Good,” she says, carrying my bags for me. I wander across the mostly deserted dining hall and into Wing B, where I take the farthest bed and lay down.

“Thank you, Maggie,” I say. She shrugs.

“Is it bad?” she asks. I nod, and move to lie down. “Do you want to take photos, in case you want to charge him?” she asks a moment later. I bite my lip. “You don’t have to use them,” she assures me, “But they’d be handy.”

I bite my lip.

“Do I have to be naked?” I ask.

“Course not,” she swears, “Just strip to them tidy-whities and I’ll grab the camera.”

I nod, and begin to pull my hoodie over my head. It rubs against my nose and my eyes well up. I throw it on the bed and lift my shirt as Maggie enters. I yank it over my head and stand to drop my sweats.

“Damn,” Maggie breathes, “He sure was thorough.”

I nod, and bite my lip, dropping them. I am sure there are bruises that even I didn’t find.

“Stand against the wall?” she asks. I move to stand against the closest wall, and stare up at her, right through the lens. The light flashes. “Turn,” she says. I obey and face the wall. I can imagine what she’s seeing as she suppresses a sound. Flash. “All done,” she says. I pull my pants back on and my hoodie back over my head, ignoring the shirt. I kick it off the bed as I climb in.

“Thanks,” I mumble, burying my face, “If Kane comes—”

“You called and told me to tell him you were moving back home,” she says.

“Living with James. He’s my cousin.”

“Living with James, back home,” she promises. I nod, and bury my broken face into the soft pillow. She turns the light off as she leaves, and I fall asleep.

~~
When I wake up the next day, Alice is sitting on the bed next to mine, reading.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey,” she says, looking up.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“Why?” she asks, “I went back a billion times. I don’t expect better of anyone else. That’s unfair.”

“Still,” I mumble. She sighs.

“You look devastatingly beautiful, all bruised up. Like a beaten cherub or some shit.”

“You’re sick.”

“In a poetic way,” she informs me, smiling widely.

“You should look normal in a few weeks,” Alice informs me, “Your face will probably look normal again in a week. Now, your back? That shit is dark. I am saying a month. I had one bruise for two months. It was ridiculous.”

“You saw?” I ask.

“I stole the camera.”

“Oh,” I say softly.

“No shame here, brother.”

I nod past the lump in my throat.

~~
We sit in the dining hall, eating lunch. I am having soup. I don’t want to eat. It makes me feel sick. Alice, on the other hand, eats everything in sight.

“There’s this one volunteer, Avid,” she says through a mouthful of bread, “He’s in India. Teaching kids to speak English. Stand up guy. You’ll like him.”

I nod, and stir my soup.

“He’s supposed to be back… soon? I don’t remember. When he gets back though, just watch. This place is alive,” she says, “this one time, me and him snuck out to go drinking—”

I stop listening to her. She talks a lot about things I don’t find interesting. Usually alcohol and drug use. Just nasty shit, really.

Maggie plops down next to us. She stares at my bowl of half eaten soup.

“Cadence,” she warns. I stare at her. Alice stops talking.

“I feel sick,” I mumble.

“Well, keep losing weight, and I’ll have you in the hospital before you can even think about saying you feel sick,” she says. I nod, but push my bowl away after two more bites anyways.

“Mags,” Alice says, “When’s Avid coming back?”

“What kind of a name is Avid anyways?” I mumble, putting my face into my arms.

“It’s David, without the D. Of course,” Alice scoffs. Maggie stares at me.

“He’s due back February second,” Maggie says.

“I miss him,” Alice says.

“We all do,” Maggie agrees.

“Maggie!” the receptionist calls.

“Ethel calls!” Maggie chirps before jogging across the room to Ethel and a young woman, a toddler in tow.

“Why won't you eat?” Alice asks.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I am tired, but food’s here and it makes me sick. I can’t do it.”

“Long as you aren’t manorexic, it’s okay. This, too, shall pass.”

I nod, and say I’ll be going back to sleep now. I want to sleep away the memories, and the pain. I want to dream forever and ever of Warner and I before anything ever happened when I had my best friend and I hadn't fucked that up too. I never want this to be my reality again.