01/24/27

I clutched my pillow and turned my head to look at the clock. It was 3:33am. I itched the scars on my arms and shifted to lay on my back. It was getting bad again, but was it ever good in the first place? I knew I shouldn’t hurt myself like this, but I go and do it anyway because it makes me feel okay. But goddamn, it’s so itchy. 

After taking what was probably too much melatonin, staring at the ceiling and praying for my body to shut down worked eventually, and I drifted off into sleep. 

I slowly reopened my eyes, I was dreaming. I was in an apartment I didn’t recognize, in a city just as unfamiliar. The sun was just barely rising over the horizon, allowing light to fill the room. I rarely dreamed, so I always knew if I was dreaming. I looked at my arms and sighed. I would probably have to wash blood out of my sheets the next morning. Or maybe I wouldn’t. God knows if I'd actually care enough. I rubbed my hand through my hair. It was long and knotted but I didn’t really care. Tears stung at my eyes from the slight pain from pulling on my scalp. “Uh, hello stranger in my house,” a voice behind me said. I flinched, and turned around to look, and low and behold, a girl stood by the doorway. “You can borrow a hairbrush if you’d like,” She looked around my age, was maybe 5 '5 with medium brown hair, and big, brown, curious eyes. I stepped back. She waved her hands in front of her chest passively, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to…” she slowly said, backing up. “N-no it's… it's fine. Yeah whatever, I'll take it.” I took the hairbrush from her hand and started on my knots. I winced as the bristles tugged at my roots. She quietly laughed behind me. “Sit down, you’re a mess,” she said, pulling out a stool in front of a vanity, “You seem exhausted.” I was slightly embarrassed but sat down anyway. It was a dream after all, it’s not like my hair was actually going to be brushed when I woke up. She sat down behind me and started brushing. She was very gentle with it, slowly combing through my hair.  “So, what’s your name?” She asked after a minute of silence. I scratched at my arms, weighing the pros and cons of telling her. Cons were she’s not real, and that also happened to be the pros. “It’s Aidan. What about you?” I looked up at her in the mirror. “Lydia” she said, a small smile on her face. It got quiet again after that. As she moved on to another patch of my hair, words fell out of my mouth like a pocket with a hole, “Lydia.” I saw her smile in the mirror. “Yes?” She asked. I looked down at the floor. “It’s just… pretty I guess.” I saw her smile again, slightly sadly. “Thanks,” 

We talked a lot that night. Well, night in the real world. The sun rose high into the sky, and was setting now. I had no idea how quickly time passed in this space.  She cleaned me up. Got me to take a shower, shave, bandage my arms, and my hair was brushed. I sat down on the bed in the small apartment. She sat down next to me. “Do you feel at least a little better?” she said quietly, resting her head on my shoulder. “Mhm” I said, resting my head on hers. Light from the sunset trickled into the room. She looked outside, then stood up. I didn’t move, but followed her with my eyes. She went over to the window, pushing the curtains aside. “Ah, a shame really…” she said, turning back to me. “I hope you slept well!” This surprised me. “Wait-” I started to say, but everything vanished.

01/25/27

I felt pretty sh*tty when I woke up. My arms hurt and I smelled like a greasy 21 year old who hasn't showered in a week. Which to be fair, was accurate, but still. I looked at the clock. 9:00 am exactly. I opened my mouth to say something, but then closed it upon remembering that nobody would hear. I sat there for a bit, pondering what I should do. After a bit, I remembered something she said while bandaging my arms. “One step at a time, you’ll feel better eventually. No need to go fast, it’ll happen one day.” I looked over to my window. The curtains had never been opened since I had moved in, and I had considered boarding it up because I never wanted it open. I sighed, stood up, and slowly made my way over to the window. The curtains were heavy duty, meant to keep all outside light out. I narrowed my eyes. What if people saw me? It’d be embarrassing for sure. Some disgusting dude who can’t even take care of himself. He looks like a corpse. Why isn’t he a corpse? If he’s so useless maybe he should just die. He should just die. He should just die.

…

One step at a time.

I grabbed the curtains, their velvety material felt nice on my hands. I opened them just a little bit, and closed my eyes immediately. The light was blinding, it was like a flashbang. When my eyes adjusted, I peeked outside. The view really wasn't bad, I had a great view of downtown and could see the gardens if I looked hard enough. I smiled slightly. It felt weird on my face, but nice at the same time. 

I spent a lot of time by the window that day. I looked outside, admiring all the little things I hadn’t gotten to enjoy. I hadn’t even gone outside in around a year. Working online and only eating grubhub will do that. I had pulled up a chair, grabbed my blanket and laid my head on the windowsill. Counting the cars as they passed, people watching, seeing the new restaurants that had opened… The view wasn’t moving, but everything else was. It was honestly a little shocking when I saw the sun start to set. I grabbed my blanket and laid back down on my floor. I was drowsy from sitting in the sun all day. I closed my eyes and fell asleep with the warm sunlight on my face.

1/26/27

I woke up to bright light on my face. I didn’t dream that night. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away from the light. I blinked a few times and opened them. My dirty room was glowing from the sunlight from the window, illuminating the dust floating around. I turned over again to see my clock. 2:32pm. My eyes drifted over to my bathroom door, slightly ajar. Like the rest of my apartment, it was disgusting. If I wasn't going to clean my room, how was I supposed to be expected to keep my bathroom clean? Maybe I should have. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. What is so wrong with me that I can’t even clean a tiny bathroom? Why was it so hot? Was it from the sun? It was uncomfortable. I should close the window. I should close it and board it up. I should open it and jump right out. Maybe that would make everything better. Maybe I should just kill myself already. There’s nothing for me here. I should just die. 

…Or maybe I didn’t have to clean the bathroom, and I could just take a shower. I live in filth, I don’t really mind it anymore. One step at a time. I gave the window another glance, and decided to keep it open. I groaned as I sat up, stretching my back. I shakily stood up and walked over to the bathroom, opening the door.

As expected it was dirty. It smelled of mildew and old wet towels were everywhere. I stripped, stepped over the dirty laundry and made it into the shower. I turned on the knob and immediately shrunk back to a dry part of the shower. The water was scalding! It flowed into my cuts and throughout my body. I turned down the faucet and put my hand into the shower. It was warm now, less hot. I stepped in and sucked in air through my teeth. It didn’t feel great. The water was a comfortable temperature, but my legs and arms were suffering. The water felt nice running over my scalp, flowing through my hair and down my body. My eyes drifted to the shelf. It had a bar of soap, and two small bottles of shampoo and conditioner. They looked like hotel provided appliances. Maybe the apartment provided them? I wasn’t sure, it had been so long. It wasn’t ideal, but not bad. I pumped out some shampoo and started to work it into my hair. My scalp was coated with dandruff and random parts on my head were bleeding from the scrubbing. It didn’t feel good at all, the water was burning my scalp but I kept scratching at it. When I could consistently feel the skin on my head again, I washed out all the shampoo. My head was throbbing, but I had to condition. I read the instructions on the conditioner, which told me I had to leave it in for a few minutes before washing it out. I pumped some onto my hand and ran it through my hair. After working it in, I pulled back. My hands were covered with dark brown strands of my hair, like a pair of hairy gloves. I rinsed it down the drain and grabbed the bar of soap. It admittedly took more strength than I expected. The soap had fused with the shelf. Eventually I managed to pry it off, and washed my body. Layers of grime and oil covered every part of my body. I don’t even know how long it took to wash it all off. Much longer than the instructions on the conditioner said. After I felt sufficiently clean, I washed out my conditioner. My hair felt silky with the soap running through it. Once I felt like my hair had no soap left, I stepped out of the shower. I looked at my floor, trying to decide what the best option for a towel was. I eventually settled on the one sitting atop the pile. It was crusty and smelled bad but it worked. 

I stepped back out into my room to get some clothes. I scanned the room, pile after pile of dirty worn outfits. Eventually my eyes settled on my dresser. I hadn’t used it in a while, I had just been surviving off of the clothes scattered across my floor. I opened one of the drawers on the top and started looking through what was inside. It was lots of stylish clothes I hadn’t worn in years. Sweatpants and an occasional hoodie had been my outfit for a while now. Most days I didn’t even bother putting on a shirt. I looked through my dresser some more before finding an outfit. Big, baggy jeans and an old band tee. It was adequately clean and not too uncomfortable.  

I looked at my clock. 4:07pm. If I went to sleep now, I’d wake up at 3am and not be able to fall back asleep. I exhaled and looked around my room, taking in the sight. My mattress lay alone on the floor, with a sheet haphazardly draped on it, with my blanket in a wad on the floor. My alarm clock sat next to my bed, its red numbers had probably burnt holes into my retinas a long time ago. In the corner of my room sat my laptop with a pillow serving as a chair. Years of reused clothes littered across my floor, a coating of dust and grime covering my floor. Soda cans and plastic utensils surrounded my workspace like a fortress. It was all just overwhelming to look at. I found myself looking at my bathroom door again. It was much smaller than my room, the bathroom was 6 by 3 feet if I remembered correctly, the floorspace being less to leave room for the appliances.

 I walked back into the bathroom. The steam from the shower had calmed down, so it wasn’t as humid. I looked at the floor. It wasn’t pretty, but it was less overwhelming then the mainroom was. I slowly bent down to pick up the towels off the floor. I hung them back up on hooks they had abandoned long ago. The towels were white once,  I imagine. They were now dingy off white, on their way to becoming grey. The bath mat was balled up in the corner by the toilet. I unwrapped it and laid it down on the floor in front of my shower. I looked at the sink. Bottles of product I hadn’t touched in years lay askew all over the counter. I put some back in the mirror cabinet, and threw some in the trash. My hair was too long to gel and have it look good anyway. I stood back into the doorway to admire the fruits of my labor. It looked nice. Everything was where it should be, for the first time in years.

Cleaning the bathroom took almost 3 hours. Scrubbing toothpaste and dust off the sink with my hands contributed greatly to the final time. I was exhausted. This was the most I had stood in one day for a while. My legs were tired. I changed out of the jeans into sweatpants that lay next to my bed, and took off the shirt I was wearing. Laying down felt incredible. Allowing my legs to rest, and going back to not doing anything was nice and comfortable. But I didn’t regret what I did that day. It was… nice.

1/27/27

I was incredibly sore from the day before. My legs were tired and I myself was worn out. Tears stung my eyes at the thought of having to do more today. I rolled over to look at my clock. 12:05. I was exhausted, my eyelids tugging closed. I had the rest of my life to get it together. So I got up, used the bathroom, and went back to bed.

1/28/27

My eyes snapped open. It was 8:30 exactly. I slept just about the whole day yesterday, not dreaming once. My body seemed eager to actually do something. I slid off my bed and stood up. Showering would probably be a good habit, so I started there. I was more familiar with how the handle in my shower worked now, so I managed to not burn myself this time. I decided to just condition my hair today, I didn’t want to fight through all my hair to get to my scalp. After I wrapped up my shower, I went to put on the same outfit I wore 2 days ago, but as I was getting dressed, I realized how foul my room smelled. Old dirty clothes. I felt somewhat opposed to putting on dirty clothes right after showering, so I grabbed a different, but similar outfit from my dresser. I was dressed and had showered, and it was only 9:00. Cleaning my room seemed to be the last step of fixing up myself and my apartment. There was so much to do though. The first thing I wanted to take care of was the smell, and that came with doing laundry. I didn’t own a washing machine nor a dryer so I would have to use the laundromat in the basement of the apartment building. 

I gathered all my clothes, using my sheet to hold it all, like a pouch. I tugged on some shoes, and went to open the door. I hovered over the handle. I never went outside, only opening for food deliveries. I swallowed, and slowly opened the door.

Noise flooded my ears. Birds chirping, people talking, cars driving down mainstreet, water from the fountain, and people. My apartment was pretty cheap but was surprisingly soundproof, the only noise really being the hum of the air conditioner. I was nervous, but calmed down. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time. I looked around my giant wad of clothes, and carefully made my way down the stairs. I turned at the door that led inside. More stairs. I exhaled. I was glad to be back inside. I walked down the last flight of stairs, and finally made it to the laundry room. Nobody was inside, (thank god). I walked to the far corner of the room to start putting in laundry. I needed to use multiple machines to get it all in. I laid down on a bench and closed my eyes, listening to the hum of the washing machines. 

I awoke to someone touching my shoulder. I jolted awake, breathing heavily. A woman around my age smiled warmly at me. “Your laundry is finished,” She said kindly. “O-oh” I said, my voice cracking. I squeezed my eyes shut and swore at myself quietly, looking at the floor. She had chin length blonde hair with bangs, and dressed very stylishly. Her ears had golden hoops, and she wore rings, bracelets and a necklace to match. I avoided eye contact with her while I unloaded everything, and moved them into the dryer. I sat back down where I was before, being very mindful of my space. A granola bar entered my view. I looked up, the lady was holding in front of me. “Oh I really don’t-” I started, but was interrupted by my stomach growling. We made eye contact for a split second, before I grabbed it and started to eat it. “Handsome young men like you should eat well.” She said smiling. I ate the granola bar quickly. It made me realize I hadn’t eaten in a few days, even though I usually do. “Um, thank you.” I said, bowing my head. “Someone was hungry!” She said with a laugh. I quietly laughed. “Hey, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” I looked at her in shock. “I really couldn’t-” I started, but she held her finger up to silence me. “I’ve lived here longer than you. I saw you move in, but this is the only other time I’ve seen you. I live 2 doors down from you. You should really come over! I insist.” She said, leaving no room for argument. I blinked a few times. “You’re too kind… but what if I was a serial killer? Isn’t it a little weird to invite someone you just met to dinner?” She looked at me, unimpressed. “You look like you’re 21, and you eat doordash every night. Also, it looks like you haven’t done laundry in a year. No way you kill people.” She extended her hand. “I’m Tessa. I’m 23 and enjoy having fun.” I shook it hesitantly. “Aiden. I secretly kill people when they invite me over to dinner.” She laughed, she had the kind of laugh that would make anyone smile. “Well Aiden, I will be expecting you at 6:15 tonight.” I heard a ding from what I presumed was a dryer. “That’s my laundry, so I’ll be going now. I’ll see you later.” She waved, and went to gather her laundry.

 I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I didn’t have a phone, so I just twiddled my thumbs until my laundry finished. 

It took a while to bundle up all those clothes again, but I managed. I waddled back up all the stairs, and got back into my room. It was 2:46pm. I slapped my cheeks a few times. I grabbed all my bedsheets and reconstructed my bed. I even straightened my mattress out. Then I started on the laundry. A mound stood before me, it was so many clothes, and so much of it was just sweatpants. I didn’t know I owned that many sweat pants! I swallowed a lump in my throat, and started. I decided to sort everything into piles. Pants go here, shirts here, socks and underwear here, and ect. After everything was sorted, I decided to fold laundry until it was time to go. Or until I got overwhelmed and stopped. The latter is what happened. I folded laundry until 5:50, and stopped before I felt like breaking something or jumping out of a window. I put on some newly clean clothes and started a dirty laundry pile in the corner of my room. Then, I sat on my bed, and waited for time to pass. 

At exactly 6:15pm, I knocked on her door. She opened it promptly and smiled brightly. “Aiden! Hi!” She stood to the side to let me in. “Make yourself at home, mi casa es tu casa!” She walked into the kitchen and called out to me, “Sit down at the table, dinner will be ready in 3 minutes!”

1/29/27

Dinner that night was amazing. We talked and laughed, and afterwards, she offered me a drink. She seemed to enjoy drinking, and even though I had never done so before, I had a great time. 

02/4/27 - 3/15/27

I never ended up dreaming about Lydia again, but my life slowly became more and more busy. I finished my laundry, and Tessa came over to help me clean my apartment. I had a bedframe, a functioning kitchen, and real furniture! She told me I needed a hobby, so we went to the corner shop, where I bought art supplies. I would spend hours in my room looking up art tutorials in an attempt to get better. My ultimate goal was to create a faithful piece of Lydia. Even though she wasn’t real, she helped me get out of a depression slump that is usually deadly. Me and Tessa hung out way more, I liked her company. 

4/21/27-5/1/27

I quickly picked up art, trying every type of artistic expression. I tried drawing to start, then I tried to color them. After that it was painting, which was my favorite. My walls were covered in different sketches, paintings and drawings of Lydia. I hadn’t seen her since that night, and I didn’t want to forget her. Seeing her made me smile, half because I was proud of the drawings, and half because it was her face on them. Tessa seemed interested in me, like. More than friends. I wanted to give her a chance, because I felt really stupid for having a crush on a girl who wasn’t even real. 

5/20/27

Tessa asked me out today! I freaked out and said sure. My life was better with her, and dating seemed like a way to make that bond even closer. She gave me a hug and kissed me. We decided she could move in with me next month because she already lived so close.

6/7/27 

Tessa sold her apartment and moved in with me. She brought in a lot of her furniture, making my apartment more homey then it was before. She seemed a little iffy about all my drawings of Lydia, said she felt weird about my walls being covered in art of another woman. So, I took down all but 3 oil paintings I was very proud of. She thanked me with teary eyes, and apologized. “I know you’re proud of them, so thank you for doing that.” She kissed me again.

7/27/27

When Tessa said her hobby was ‘having fun’, I didn’t quite understand. But I quickly figured out that meant partying. Every weekend we went somewhere. Clubs, bars, parties, the works. She always drank, but I usually stayed sober in order to get us home. But, last night, I didn’t. 

7/26/27 

The music was loud, and I was talking to some other guys at the club. Tessa stumbled over to me, and grabbed my arm. “Aidennn… drink with meeee… It’s so lonely over there..” I smiled worriedly at her. “Tess, you know I have to drive home,” She tightened the grip on my arm, and readjusted her position to make herself seem sexier, “pleasee?” She stared into my eyes, batting her eyelashes. She wore a small, sparkly silver slip dress with matching heels. Or she was wearing heels. They were now sitting on her barstool.  I looked away, unsure of what to do. I could probably call an uber home, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving my car here. “Tess I really-” She cut me off, her face stone cold. “If you don’t I’ll break up with you.” Time stopped for me at that moment. I knew she was drunk, but the threat seemed real. “Fine, yeah sure I will.” I answered quickly. There was no point risking it, even if she probably didn’t mean it.

7/27/27 

When we woke up at home, we were both naked in my bed. I didn’t remember anything past the threat on the dance floor, but from the state of the apartment, I felt like I could put the pieces together. I scratched my head and swore a couple times, as I got out of bed to put some clothes on. 

I made coffee, and it woke up Tessa. “Oh crap, babe I’m sorry about last night. I don’t really remember much but I was probably out of line.” It’s fine, I said. I handed her a cup of coffee and kissed her. Her mouth tasted like alcohol. 

8/31/27 

I had become more social after getting my life together, but I still needed breaks. Tessa started just telling me when she was going out, and if I wanted to go, I’d get up and go, but if I didn’t I’d just send her off. I had been drinking a lot, and decided to stop to avoid an addiction. I could tell she was irritated with me, because I hadn’t gone out with her in almost a month. She tried not to show it, but I could tell she wasn’t happy.

10/19/27 

She stopped telling me when she was leaving. Sometimes I’d go to the bathroom and she’d be gone. It worried me. Today when she got home, I asked her about it. She was clearly drunk but still answered. “Well, I don’t TELL You because there's NO POINT if you will never go with me.” She started to cry, but then started to yell. “Don’t you love me?? Why do you never go out with me anymore?! I HATE YOU.” Then she locked herself in the bathroom. That was an hour ago. Now I’m laying in my bed alone, for the first time in almost a year. 

12/26/27 

She didn’t come home last night. I usually stay up until she gets home, and I was determined to. I stayed up all night on caffeine and my computer. When light started to show through my blinds my heart sank. What if something awful happened?? I texted her and called her again and again to no avail. Until, at 10:57am, she finally got home. I wrapped her in a hug, and kissed her head. “I’m so glad you’re ok,” I said. Looking back on it, I didn’t even question where she had been. I was just glad she was back. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t even hug me back. She just laid on the couch and poured herself some wine. After a minute she clutched her head, “Babe, can you close the blinds my head is killing me,” I hurriedly did so, and asked if she wanted anything else. She groaned and glared at me, “Just shut the hell up, please. My head is pounding and your jabbering isn’t helping.” I nodded and after standing around for a while decided to just grab some food at a cafe downtown.

12/30/27

Tessa came home about an hour ago. I didn’t even know she was gone. When I asked her where she was she screamed and threw the beer can in her hand at me. It missed and she slumped over on the wall crying. I helped her to bed and she's sound asleep now. I don’t know how to help her stop drinking.

2/1/28

I’ve learned to not talk to Tessa when she gets home. She’s always mad at me and she hits me when she’s mad. But if I just stay really quiet, she forgets I’m here, and she just goes to bed after a while. I’ve had to work really late because she’s spending all our money on alcohol. I’m happy to pick up the tab. This is my apartment after all, I should be taking care of everything. She told me that a few nights ago. And I agree, I should be able to take care of her.

2/19/28

Tessa hasn’t come home for almost a week now. I don’t know where she is. She sees my messages but doesn’t return my calls. I’ve gone to every bar I know of but none of them have seen her. She must be with other people, but I don’t really know any of her friends, so I don’t even know where to start. The apartment feels hollow and empty, like how it felt a year ago.

The door creaked open as I was wrapping up my shift. My head whipped around and I saw Tessa creeping into the apartment. I ran over to her with my arms out going for a hug. “Where have you been?? I was worried something happened to you!” But she shoved me away, and I landed on the floor. She reeked of alcohol, worse than usual. “Where have I been???” She yelled, “Where have YOU been?? You’ve probably been sneaking around with other WOMEN when I was with my friends. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU???” She sat on my legs, pinning me to the floor. “I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!!!” Every ‘hate’ came with a punch to my face. I closed my eyes and braced myself as much as possible. I just needed to let her get this all out, then it will be okay. But she didn’t stop. She kept punching me and hitting me for minutes. And it… hurt. It hurt a lot. I could feel blood on my face, the taste of iron spreading on my taste buds and running down my throat. I felt my body go limp. She finally backed off and stumbled to bed. “Don't you DARE, come in this bed AGAIN.” She screamed. I heard something fall off the wall. She paused before walking towards the noise. “I hate this f*cking painting, why do you have paintings of another woman in our F*CKING HOUSE?” I heard the canvas being torn apart. “You’re probably sleeping with her. That sl*t.” She walked over to me, shreds of canvas in her hands. “So what’s her name?” She said, shoving it in my face. I closed my eyes to think, search my memories, but I couldn’t remember. Maybe she was from a book? I haven’t read anything in so long, but it was a possibility. “She’s… she’s not real…” I managed, clutching at my sore ribs. Tessa hiccuped and took another look at the paintings remains, “Sooo is she likee… a character??” I felt relief flood through me, she was calming down. She tossed it on the floor and started walking to the bed. I could barely move, “Tess, could you… help me into bed?” I wheezed. I heard covers move. “F*cking do it yourself.”

3/9/28

I went to the store today and boarded up the windows. The light makes her mad, and I don’t like it when she’s mad.

5/13/28

She doesn’t come home for weeks at a time now. But I didn't feel anything when she’s not here. I don’t feel sad or angry or… anything. I stared at my kitchen, the knife block glittered in a trickle of the moonlight. My mouth went dry. I slowly made my way over to the kitchen and pulled out our sharpest knife. The metal felt smooth in my hand. I pulled up my pant leg and started making marks up and down. And it felt… I’m not sure what I was feeling, but it was something. It wasn’t the cold, hard numbness that was my day to day life. There was a sensation running up through my nerves into my brain, and then blood dripping on the floor. 

Maybe the feeling was nostalgia, cutting felt like seeing an old best friend.

7/29/28

Aiden,

I’m sick of you. You are such an evil manipulative person, and you RUINED MY LIFE. I hope I never have to see you again. Goodbye and f*ck you.

-Tessa

8/3/28

9/20/28

10/16/28

11/30/28

12/1/28

I can’t do this anymore

Dear You,

I’m writing this letter for whoever may find me. I don’t have much. Give whatever is left of my money to the landlord of my apartment. You don’t need to have a funeral, nobody would come anyway. Sorry for dying in your apartment complex, I don’t want to go anywhere.

12/1/28

I folded the letter up and sighed. I looked at the bottle of benadryl on my floor. I lay down on my mattress, and glanced at my clock. 2:22am. I knew the amount of benadryl would be lethal. Almost an entire bottle, I had only taken one. I grabbed a glass of murky water from the sink. I put all the pills in my mouth, chugged the water, grabbed my pillow, and closed my eyes, allowing a tear or two to slip out and soak into my pillow. 

I expected nothing, but to my surprise I was dreaming. I was in an apartment that looked strangely familiar. I opened my eyes more, realizing it was golden hour. The golden light filled my room. I realized my head lay on a set of legs. I looked up more to see a girl. “You’re alive!” She exclaimed. I felt weak. As if I would collapse if I sneezed too hard. She gently played with my hair. I slowly sat up to face her. “I’m sorry, who are you…?” Her face fell, and I could see tears gathering in her eyes. She managed another smile. “Lydia,” she said, gently. I didn’t recognize the name. I racked my brain for a scenario, a face, of anyone I had seen at a club or some party, maybe one of Tess’s friends.... “I’m sorry, I don’t-” I started, but I stopped, seeing I was slowly breaking her heart. Was she a childhood friend? I didn’t know. “It’s okay,” she said. Her voice was barely a whisper. There were too many tears in her eyes at this point, and they started to flow out. “One step at a time, right?” This made me pause. Where had I heard that? She stood up and walked over to my window, then checked her watch. “Ah, a shame, really…” She wiped tears off of her face and turned to face me. “I hope you slept well!” It all flooded back into me. The dream, the conversation, self healing, and Lydia. Tears filled my eyes and spilled out as I weakly tried to crawl over to her. “Wait, wait! Lydia! Please don’t leave me, please don't-” The light from the window got brighter and she disappeared into specks of light. 

12/2/28

I woke up, but just barely. I felt terrible and couldn’t move at all. I was dying. Tears leaked out of my eyes and fell down my face. “Lydia…” I croaked. My throat was so dry. “Ly..dia..” the world was getting darker. I needed water, anything, I needed to move, I needed to find her. But I just couldn’t move. My muscles felt like they were rotting, and my vision was cloudy. Eventually sound stopped coming out of my mouth. I mouthed her name one last time as the world faded to darkness. 

?/??/??

“There you are!” Rachel called out to me. It was a sunny day, and the temperature was lovely. I walked over and waved. She looked at me, worried. “Your eyes are a little red, are you okay?” she said. I smiled solemnly. “Oh I’ll be fine. It’s been a rough couple of weeks, but it’ll be okay I think. You gotta take these losses one step at a time, so you can heal!” I said, grabbing her hand to reassure her. “I’m sorry about that, but I agree. If I can help you at all, I will!” I nodded, smiling. I turned to glance at the apartments looking onto mainstreet. As Rachel ordered her food. 

“Lydia? What are you looking at?” she asked. 

“Oh, nothing.” I said, looking back at her with a smile. “Can I just have water?”

The end