Like a Puff of Smoke

Who: Leija
When: 7:36am
Where: her room

It was the insistent buzzing of the alarm clock that woke her up. Eyelids that felt like they were lined with sandpaper slid open and her exhausted pupils attempted to focus on the bright green numbers. Another day. Time to get up for school. Past time, really. How long had that thing been going off? In an almost identical movement to the one she'd made twenty-four hours ago, Leija reached over and shut the alarm off. Another day of not going to school. She tilted her phone up from where it was on the nightstand. No missed calls, no texts.

She rolled over to face the wall, resettling the blankets around her. No one had missed her yesterday, and it was likely that they wouldn't again today. She'd spent almost the whole time since Caleb had brought her home, sleeping. Only getting up to use the bathroom or when she'd been called out the window. Outside of some crackers at some undetermined point, she hadn't eaten anything, either. The hunger pains had mostly stopped -- or been slept through -- leaving just a feeling of yawning emptiness inside of her. Her body ached with all the stillness, but she didn't care.

Leija's eyes opened on the cream wall in front of her face. No calls, no texts. He hadn't checked on her. What if she'd just been placating him and had gone in the house, waited until he was gone, and slit her wrists? He'd have no idea.

Are you surprised? a part of her that had been vocal for quite some time asked. The only answer she had was 'no'.

You're suicidal, and the one person who knows let this much time go by without calling. Do you know why that is?

No.

Because you mean nothing. You are just as invisible as you were before Marquette, only now you know what it's like not to be. Only now you see that you can't handle anything but this. You ruin things. You aren't meant to have people. They either go or you drive them out. So much so that he will let you die and be grateful for it. No more crazy ex-girlfriend to deal with and piss him off. Can you blame him? Who would want someone like you around?

Porter ... Peyton ...?

Stupid little girl. Porter has talked to you what ... twice? Three times maybe? If you were only with Caleb for a week and he, the person you got the closest to in your whole miserable little life, hasn't called, you think Porter's going to? He's probably busy with his girlfriend. Same with Peyton, when was the last time she called you anyway?

Leija closed her eyes again.

You have no one, and it's your own fault. He asked you what your malfunction was, and the only answer is you. You know it. You can't pull yourself together alone, you're weak and you disgust everyone who gets to know you. You can't fault them, they have lives, personalities that other people can stomach. Be grateful that Nate left before he could find out what you're really like. You're broken and beyond reach. He won't call. No one will.

She started to drift again. She would just sleep. Get up when it was required, then crawl back into her sanctuary. She couldn't hurt anyone or fuck anything up from there, and maybe eventually there just wouldn't be anything left of her. She could fade into obscurity and disappear like a puff of smoke, leaving everyone breathing a little easier. Maybe her dad could even start over. He was young enough. Have a family that wasn't so fundamentally broken. That would be good for him.

Her breathing evened out, and she let everything slip away. Everything would go on fine without her. Better, even, and she sank down into the comforting softness of exhausted sleep.