Louie.

Everyone has those shitty days.

Sometimes you don't realize it is one until the days halfway over, or it's done. However, when I woke up I knew it was going to be a shitty day after a mere few minutes.

The first thing I noticed when the blanket of sleep was pulled from my mind, was the abnormally warm body I was leaning against. When my eyes opened I saw a few stray strands of hair dangerously close.

The situation so far seemed partly okay, I could calmly get up and go to my room, but when I looked up from my lap I saw Beth sitting on the floor with Louie. Her eyes met mine momentarily, an unreadable expression flashing before my pupils. I also then realized that Lorraine, Lizbeth and Beatrice were in the room, eyes glued to the television.

That's when the pit in my stomach began to grow. There was too much pressure, as soon as I moved their eyes would be on me, judging me, watching. What would they say? What would Rockwell say?

What would I say?

Fuck.

This amount of stress and thought was too much for my barely coming-to mind. I decided to just do what I always did.

I only had one option, to let my body move on it's own accord and ignore everyone. My ears barely noticed Rockwell's protests when I stood up. My eyes stayed glue to the floor and my feet felt heavy as I walked up the stairs. I wish my steps hadn't been so loud, but they were.

I thought it was over when I reached the safe haven of my room, but as soon as I closed the door behind me, everything seemed to rush me at once.

The were looking at me, they were watching, they were judging. My mind began to buzz, static filling my ears. I felt my throat begin to constrict and the moisture escape from my mouth, all the water seemed be stolen by my tear ducts. Waiting for the dam to burst. My stomach churned uneasily and began to squeeze itself. My lungs tightened, a cool breeze seemed to go down my spine.

That's when I knew the day was going to be bad.

Because the feeling wouldn't go away, not even with the hour long hot shower, or cup of tea with honey.

All those feelings were holding me prisoner for the day.

All those feelings were holding me under, pushing and pulling like ocean waves. Even when the sensations seemed to cease, they came back stronger, teasing me, torturing me.

I stayed in my room, curled up under my blankets, head on my pillow. But in my mind I was hiding in the closets, in the dark with all my covers over my head.

A mantra kept echoing in my head:

Today is a bad day.
Today is a bad day.
Today is a bad day.

It was.
It really was.

I didn't like any of it, but it wouldn't go away, it wouldn't let me be. I couldn't ignore it, I couldn't hide from it. I was drowning in it for hours. I was drowning in it alone.

How do I make it go away?
How do I handle it?

I wasn't sure exactly, but I grew desperate, so fucking desperate.

I was so tired of it, so I let the floodgates go.

I let my tears free, I was on the cusp of swallowing my pride and just letting them all go.

But then Beth knocked on the door to let me know dinner was ready.

And fear, fear of being seen caused me to shove everything into a box in my brain. I let myself go numb.

I ate quickly, I washed my dishes and returned to my room, to my bed.

I prayed for hours for sleep, and that tomorrow would be a better day.