Round II

So here's the follow-up to Alyssa's brief church session.

She's caught in an awkward situation. She can't ignore Kevin's e-mail, but she can't let herself get too involved in the response, either. She has to find a balancing act. Somehow, she must prevent her heart from breaking any more than it already has.

She's also got an annoying little habit of not sleeping at night. There's a lot I can't relate to concerning my main character, but when it comes to sleep disorders...well, we're totally on the same page, sister.

Love, Lisa



Kevin, thanks for the e-mail, I type. I hunch over in the metal chair, eyes to the ground as I consider how to say the things that need to be said.

There are no good words at a time like this. I hate that Uncle Chris is gone. And it’s frustrating being a million miles from home.

On a less depressing note, I love Trinidad. The girls in my dorm are nice. School starts tomorrow, which is exciting. But I feel guilty enjoying things when Uncle Chris is dead. It doesn’t make sense, you know? How can he hug me one day and disappear the next?

Maybe prayer will help.

As soon as I type those words, I delete them. Kevin’s e-mails are censored and I don’t want him getting in trouble. It’s better to be safe.

But death is part of life, right? I type. No way to avoid it. Oh well. I hope things aren’t too bad in Iraq. Take care and write back whenever.

I send the e-mail before I have a chance to edit it. I tend to drive myself crazy with revisions. It’s so silly, so obsessive. I shouldn’t spend extra time poring over a five-line e-mail.

Sighing, I rise from my seat. The computer lab is the only part of Trinity Hall that’s air-conditioned. My body rejects this artificial air; goosebumps cover my arms. I eagerly dash from the cold room.

I head back to the first-floor lounge. Throwing myself on the couch, I sink into cloth cushions and turn on the television. There’s nothing on. That’s fine, though. I’m not really watching anyway, just letting the noise and images soak over me.

An advertisement fills the screen. Skinny girls parade around in striped sweaters. I crack a smile, because it’s almost fall in certain parts of the world, but Trinidad has no autumn, winter, or spring. It’s always summertime here. Thankfully.

And soon I will look exactly like those girls, down to the last detail. Bones and angles and edges. I will be their twin sister.

Except, of course, for the sweaters; I’ll be wearing a tank top.

***

I wake up, gripping the sheets in one fist. A layer of sweat covers my forehead and nose. I want to wipe it away, but my hands are too shaky. My heart pounds so loudly I wonder if it’s going to explode.

The room is so dark, so desperately lonely.

At first I take short breaths, shallow ones. Then they’re deeper. I sit up, propping myself against the wall. As much as I tell myself I am fine, there’s still a lingering hollowness in my core. My stomach screams at me, but that pain is tolerable. It’s the aching in my chest that is unbearable.

Why are you doing this? I ask him, knowing I’ll never get an answer. Leave me alone.

Kevin’s face remains etched in my brain. I can see it so clearly, every fleck of green in his eyes. His shaggy hair has grown so long that it’s almost messy.

I lie back down. The tension in my chest decreases a little, but not enough. I stare out my slitted window. The silent world stares back at me, offering no condolences.

I’m sure there’s something that can take away this pain. There is a solution, a cure I’ve turned to in the past. There must be. But I can’t recall what it is.

So I face the window. I close my eyes and wait for morning to come. I tell myself that once the sun rises, this isolation will depart. But that’s like tossing confetti in the air and expecting it to never fall.

In Pieces

Alyssa is unraveling very quickly.

I've added some flashbacks to the story at various parts. The goal was to make this book as intense as possible.

So here goes nothing. It might be a mistake; I may snip these little flashbacks.

Not sure yet.

I'm placing the most dramatic ones in this post. All feedback is appreciated.

Love, Lisa



In spite of myself, I looked back.

Mom was crying in the passenger seat. Dad had his arm around her shoulder. He was trying to hold it together; Dad had always been the rational one. His emotions didn’t get in the way of his life.

But he was even upset this time.

I wanted to run back to the car, tell my parents I am sorry. Tell them I would change. We all knew that was a lie, though. There was no way I would go back to the body I used to have. I would’ve rather died. Literally. I’d actually been working fairly hard to achieve that.

I exhaled sharply and stepped through the airport’s entrance. My flight to Florida left in an hour, so I needed to rush. There was no time for regrets, for meaningless apologies. Mom knews I loved her; that wasn’t the issue. It was myself I couldn’t stand.

She begged me to get treatment. There was a good place in Schaumburg, just a few miles from our house. But that would’ve meant staying in Illinois. That place was crawling with memories. It was a cesspool of could-have-beens.

The world used to be such a bright place. I was not willing to live in the shadow of that brightness; that would be a torture beyond what I could bear.

Besides, I didn’t want treatment. I didn’t want to be healthy because this half-crazed, extreme method I’d discovered was much more intriguing. It was my sole source of relief these days.

I lost Kevin. I chased away my family and most of my friends. I had no plan for the future and only a painfully wonderful past to reflect on. A reminder of the perfection that had slipped through my bony fingers.

Everything that mattered had been stripped away.

But I had control. I floated above this heavy anchor that weighed others down. I was immune to temptation and desire. I could go days without eating, then live off crumbs. I was a champion of my own little game. I was a queen.

A tiny, narrow, hollowed-out queen.

***

If only it would come faster, I thought. I’d be abroad in a couple months. I’d be away from this nightmare of a life.

I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Mom was running errands, Dad was working from his home office, Johnny was hanging out with friends. Because, unlike me, he still had some. He hadn’t ignored their phone calls until they eventually stopped calling.

I closed my eyes. What I wanted to do was reach across the dresser and grab the novel I started reading. Or maybe even the Bible, although it had been hard to comb through that book lately.

I didn’t have the energy. Stretching my arm across the nightstand would’ve felt like running a marathon. The books would have to sit idle. Just like me.

My breathing was shallow, my muscles were tired even though they hadn’t moved today. It was tiring to breathe, even. My eyes flew open and I stared at the white ceiling.

Maybe the breaths would just stop. That would be nice; I could finally rest. I could drift off into nothingness. After all this time, the gaping hole that Kevin left would dissolve.

I would be free.

I chewed the inside of my lip, trying to remember the last time I ate anything. I had a tea yesterday, maybe at ten in the morning. But I’d only finished half the cup. It tasted too sweet; Mom might’ve slipped some sugar in there. That was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

I blinked. There was no water left in my eyes, so I couldn’t cry. Couldn’t sweat, either. No periods anymore. No emotions left. My body was shutting down.

I couldn’t work my face into smile. But there was a grin inside my head. My body was transforming into something stunning. I was so little now that I had to buy children’s clothes. Girls’ size 10 usually fit me. I was five feet and ten inches, yet wearing the same items that an eight-year-old typically wore. It was amazing.

Maybe I could be a child again, travel back to the time when the world made sense. It was my only chance at happiness. Adulthood had brought loss. And misery, too. So much misery. The kind that chipped away at me until I shattered.

I was in pieces. A teacup that someone had tossed to the ground. The fragments were really sharp; they could slice through flesh. Easily.