Status: in progress.
Temet Nosce
Three
“Hey, Hannah,” Mark said once his cousin picked up her phone. It did take a while for her to answer that he was beginning to doubt if she was there.
Then again, he knew she never left her apartment.
Agoraphobia, Mark’s Aunt Lena had called it. The fear of the outside world.
Mark refused to believe it at first. He and Hannah had always played together when they were younger, back when Hannah lived one block from where his house in California. Mark remembered those times when he’d ride his bike to Hannah’s house along with his little brother Garrett. They would play under the sun in their backyard for hours and hours into the day, having the time of their lives.
She was such a lively, happy girl. When Hannah walked in the room, she lit everything up, as if she was a portable firework. She was the type of girl that charmed and captivated everyone, even a heartless, bitter old man.
And then, ever so suddenly, their family had to move. Mark’s uncle had been offered a better, higher paid job in Boston. Hannah was twelve when they left, Mark was ten. They hadn’t spoken much since.
Until Mark went to college in Boston, thanks to his football scholarship. His university was in Fenway, a neighborhood close to where Hannah and her parents lived. And so, his uncle and aunt had offered Mark a place to stay during the weekends or when he didn’t feel like sleeping in his dormitory. Mark accepted the offer gratefully. He stayed in Hannah’s old bedroom, because she had already moved out into an apartment about twenty minutes away when she was eighteen.
Mark’s presence in Boston had been a slight relief to Hannah’s parents. They thought that, if her childhood friend was near, she would get better. She would go back to the way she was before.
But, after two years of talks and visits as much as Mark could fit into his schedule, nothing had changed. Hannah had not changed.
Her sanctuary was her apartment. Her safe house. She would not let anyone enter except Mark and occasionally her parents. When she needed something, she used her phone or the internet.
Mark had recalled one of the afternoons he spent in her apartment, sitting beside her on her shabby maroon leather couch, one of the few pieces of furniture that she owned.
“Why do you stay here?” he asked her. It was a Thursday, and his class had just ended. He was supposed to be on a date with some girl, but she decided to cancel on the last minute. Too tired to look for something else to do he spent the afternoon at Hannah’s.
“I’m happy here,” she whispered, clutching her cup of cocoa. Hannah had her usual loose shit and sweatpants on. At the moment, she had both her legs up the couch with her chin resting on her knees.
Mark turned his head to look at her. “That doesn’t answer my question, Han.”
For a few seconds, the two sat in complete and utter silence.
“I’m scared,” Hannah murmured. “I’m scared to go outside.”
It was the first and last time they ever talked about it.
Hannah’s parents had given up on her completely and had fairly gotten used to her nature. Sometimes, instead of visiting, they just gave her a call as Hannah requested. Aunt Lena would sometimes secretly cry to herself when puts down the down after a conversation with Hannah. She tries to hide it, but Mark could still hear her.
Now, Mark was in his dorm hallway, walking toward the parking lot. He was going to stay at Hannah’s for the weekend, because her parents, who were on a well deserved vacation in Maui, had asked him to. It was her birthday on Sunday, after all. They didn’t want her to spend it alone.
“Oh. Hi, Mark,” she said weakly. Her voice sounded hoarse and tired.
“Listen, Han. I’m staying over there for the weekend.” Mark made it sound like a statement, not a question. If he did, she could have easily said no. But that still wouldn’t have stopped Mark. He was merely saving time and energy.
“Wh-what?”
“I’m staying there.”
“Why?” she demanded, sounding stronger now.
“Because I want to.” Mark stopped right before the wooden double doors that led to the lot and leaned on the pale colored concrete wall.
“You can’t,” she argued.
Mark sighed. One thing that didn’t change about Hannah; she was still as stubborn as ever.
“I’m going, Han. I’m on my way now.” Before she could argue anymore, Mark ended the call. He sighed, and just when turned toward the doors, he heard someone call his name from down the hall.
Then again, he knew she never left her apartment.
Agoraphobia, Mark’s Aunt Lena had called it. The fear of the outside world.
Mark refused to believe it at first. He and Hannah had always played together when they were younger, back when Hannah lived one block from where his house in California. Mark remembered those times when he’d ride his bike to Hannah’s house along with his little brother Garrett. They would play under the sun in their backyard for hours and hours into the day, having the time of their lives.
She was such a lively, happy girl. When Hannah walked in the room, she lit everything up, as if she was a portable firework. She was the type of girl that charmed and captivated everyone, even a heartless, bitter old man.
And then, ever so suddenly, their family had to move. Mark’s uncle had been offered a better, higher paid job in Boston. Hannah was twelve when they left, Mark was ten. They hadn’t spoken much since.
Until Mark went to college in Boston, thanks to his football scholarship. His university was in Fenway, a neighborhood close to where Hannah and her parents lived. And so, his uncle and aunt had offered Mark a place to stay during the weekends or when he didn’t feel like sleeping in his dormitory. Mark accepted the offer gratefully. He stayed in Hannah’s old bedroom, because she had already moved out into an apartment about twenty minutes away when she was eighteen.
Mark’s presence in Boston had been a slight relief to Hannah’s parents. They thought that, if her childhood friend was near, she would get better. She would go back to the way she was before.
But, after two years of talks and visits as much as Mark could fit into his schedule, nothing had changed. Hannah had not changed.
Her sanctuary was her apartment. Her safe house. She would not let anyone enter except Mark and occasionally her parents. When she needed something, she used her phone or the internet.
Mark had recalled one of the afternoons he spent in her apartment, sitting beside her on her shabby maroon leather couch, one of the few pieces of furniture that she owned.
“Why do you stay here?” he asked her. It was a Thursday, and his class had just ended. He was supposed to be on a date with some girl, but she decided to cancel on the last minute. Too tired to look for something else to do he spent the afternoon at Hannah’s.
“I’m happy here,” she whispered, clutching her cup of cocoa. Hannah had her usual loose shit and sweatpants on. At the moment, she had both her legs up the couch with her chin resting on her knees.
Mark turned his head to look at her. “That doesn’t answer my question, Han.”
For a few seconds, the two sat in complete and utter silence.
“I’m scared,” Hannah murmured. “I’m scared to go outside.”
It was the first and last time they ever talked about it.
Hannah’s parents had given up on her completely and had fairly gotten used to her nature. Sometimes, instead of visiting, they just gave her a call as Hannah requested. Aunt Lena would sometimes secretly cry to herself when puts down the down after a conversation with Hannah. She tries to hide it, but Mark could still hear her.
Now, Mark was in his dorm hallway, walking toward the parking lot. He was going to stay at Hannah’s for the weekend, because her parents, who were on a well deserved vacation in Maui, had asked him to. It was her birthday on Sunday, after all. They didn’t want her to spend it alone.
“Oh. Hi, Mark,” she said weakly. Her voice sounded hoarse and tired.
“Listen, Han. I’m staying over there for the weekend.” Mark made it sound like a statement, not a question. If he did, she could have easily said no. But that still wouldn’t have stopped Mark. He was merely saving time and energy.
“Wh-what?”
“I’m staying there.”
“Why?” she demanded, sounding stronger now.
“Because I want to.” Mark stopped right before the wooden double doors that led to the lot and leaned on the pale colored concrete wall.
“You can’t,” she argued.
Mark sighed. One thing that didn’t change about Hannah; she was still as stubborn as ever.
“I’m going, Han. I’m on my way now.” Before she could argue anymore, Mark ended the call. He sighed, and just when turned toward the doors, he heard someone call his name from down the hall.