Page 34 of Mortala
She’s right, I’ve been off the rails for days.Her and Dad won’t let anything happen to me, and yeah, maybe going to graduation and trying to act normal will help.Because hiding out in my apartment definitely isn’t doing me any good.
“Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Good.”Her response comes quickly.“Your cap and gown are in my SUV.Kace will meet us there, he has work.”Her eyes roll.
Great, I need their fighting to pressure me, too.
“Are you sure though?You stopped messaging a few days ago and I haven’t been able to get a hold of you.That’s why I came over.”
“Yeah, Mom.I’ll be okay.Can I have the bathroom to myself now?”
Tersely I dismiss her; she lingers for a beat too long then goes—the absence of her body alters how the humid bathroom air settles on me.For what feels like the first time in weeks, I draw in air that doesn’t choke me.
Once the water runs cold, I step out and change into something appropriate for a graduation ceremony and dinner—I think.It’s a sun dress that stops at my knees and hugs my upper body.The halter top reaches my neck and showcases my arms, chic and uncomplicated.Not stopping, ticking off each of my ‘get ready’ tasks until they’re complete, I finish up and look more like a co-ed than a schizophrenic.
Mom must have put my phone on the charger while I was showering too, because when I walk into my bedroom the damn thing lights up then goes dark—over and over again.As if it’s sitting on a gold mine of notifications that I’ll forever silence, there’s just too much noise in the world.Afraid it might bite me, I’m reluctant to approach.Within ten feet, I stop, watching it cycle a few more times before finally going dark.
“Sadie, you ready?”Mom calls from the kitchen.
Physically, yes.Mentally, no.Emotionally, what’s that?
“Yeah, putting on my shoes.”
Sure my phone isn’t going to launch across the room and attack me, I settle on the end of my bed and pull on a pair of school-appropriate sandals—occasionally looking over at the plastic brick to make sure it hasn’t sprouted legs to chase after me.
Finished, I reluctantly grab it and against my better judgment I look through it.There are forty-five messages, eight calls, and one billion notifications from socials.I check them, seeing one after the other of Mom panicking after not answering.Dad chimes in here and there to ask if I’m alright and what happened.There’s a few regarding my bank account transactions, utilities coming due, and fucking Elias.
I avoided all of them for nearly a week.They were worried about me.I want to smile, to feel joy for scaring people enough to check in, but it doesn’t come.I’m so numb; the Lithium’s doing its job and I find myself content with not caring.Let them worry, they’re doing it from the safety of their own lives where I’m routinely forgotten.
Gliding my thumb along the flat screen, I open the messages with Elias.Finally, I smile at his concern—he didn’t smother me, because he doesn’t see me as damaged.
Klingon
Found an attorney for your little stunt.I’ll see you when I get into town.
Ignoring me today?
I bet you’ve turned your damn phone off, these are all left ondelivered.
See you soon.Be good.
Good, yeah.In your fucking dreams.
Chapter thirteen
Sunshine
Theworstpartaboutsitting in the gymnasium, with a hundred other students, is how I have zero recollection if I took my exams.Graduation is technically only a ceremony, as grades haven’t been finalized, so if I didn’t go or failed, then I’ll be repeating my classes anyway.
Exciting.
Without any fallout—the demons are stashed away and taking a much-needed snooze—I made it onto the stage, shook hands with the Dean and collected my faux degree.After that was about a million camera flashes and official graduation photos at the end of a long ramp which felt more like a pirate’s plank.I’d willingly dive off the end if it meant there was a monster below the surface waiting to take me into oblivion.
According to the Internet, there’s a two-to-three-minute wait before I’d lose consciousness.Wouldn’t really matter because the atmospheric pressure would crush me before my leviathan finished dragging me deep into the blackness.Hell, I spend half of my time drowning in the void already, eyeball deep in a mental fog so thick it pours out of my orifices—the ocean would be a reprieve.
Wading the sludge, I made it through the remainder of the ceremony still struggling to piece together the past several days.What if I didn’t log in to take my finals?My tablet was dead, so was my phone.What if I hurt someone?There are men out there looking for me now, watching and waiting for me to fall off the wagon again; to assault someone else.They want to throw me away, melt down the key to my cage and use it to cast the bullets needed to put me down.
Weaving through the throng of students and their families, I gravitate to my parents.They’re standing away from the masses with their backs to the wall, with clear sight lines to the exits—some things never change.They’re dressed modestly but still edgy—Dad in a pair of dark washed jeans, black leather boots, gray button-up shirt, and a black suit jacket.Mom’s in a navy-blue jumper with flowy pant legs, a cropped leather jacket, and sandals.
