Woebegone
Sixteen
I don’t see him for three days. I don’t leave the house. I hardly leave the bed. I search for the pills, out of curiosity. I want to know where they are, but I don’t find them. I don’t find anything. I don’t find any sort of drugs or alcohol either, nothing to take the sadness away. I find myself too broken to eat. I swallow some food for breakfast one morning only to throw it back up. I wonder if my body wants me to die. How long would it take to die of starvation?
When he comes back, I’m lying on the couch, staring at the wall. He is talking but I cannot hear it.
“Angel?” he is kneeling in front of me. He looks tired, he looks as if he is dying too.
I mumble something, a yes maybe, or a what.
“We’re going away. Tomorrow morning, we’re leaving at six”
And then he’s in the kitchen and the microwave is beeping and there is a warm bowl of food in front of me. I eat but I don’t taste it, in fact I don’t actually remember eating it. I am in his arms and he carries me to bed and suddenly I am not sure if I am dreaming or still wake.
When he comes back, I’m lying on the couch, staring at the wall. He is talking but I cannot hear it.
“Angel?” he is kneeling in front of me. He looks tired, he looks as if he is dying too.
I mumble something, a yes maybe, or a what.
“We’re going away. Tomorrow morning, we’re leaving at six”
And then he’s in the kitchen and the microwave is beeping and there is a warm bowl of food in front of me. I eat but I don’t taste it, in fact I don’t actually remember eating it. I am in his arms and he carries me to bed and suddenly I am not sure if I am dreaming or still wake.