Page 67
Story: Distorted Obsession
It can’t be her.
Doubt wraps around me. Could she?—
Farrah is dead, Eva.
I try to reason with myself.
But what if she’s not?
I have to know.
Delusional hope springs into my chest, and my brain finally releases me from my stupefied state.
She’s turning the corner when I take off after her, eager to see my best friend again.
My heart thumps, beating erratically as I follow her steps. But by the time I enter the hallway, there’s no one there.
No… no… no.
Spinning in circles, I search for any trace of her.
I dart to the stairwell, pushing the door with such fervent force that it bangs against the wall.
No one is here.
Refusing to give up, I spin and run upstairs.
Nothing—she’s gone.
Tears pool in my eyes as I feel the loss of her again. Pain grips me in its hold, forcing me to atone—to repent—to pay penance and restitution. Karma seeks justice to right the scales.
My thoughts swirl in rapid succession. Every moment flashes before my eyes from its beginning to its end.
A familiar foe wakes from its slumber, ready to feast on despondency.
I need to escape the overwhelming despair.
Frustrated, I wipe away all traces of my sour mood. If I enter my suite like this, the mother hens will swarm me, and I don’t have the energy to engage in their optimism or suggestions to forgive myself and move on.
Sometimes, you need to be okay with not beingokay.
Inhaling, I fortify my defenses, my mask perfectly in place. Fun, easygoing Eva is present, and she knows what needs to be done.
We just need to get to our room.
“Hey, girl, hey,” Jade exclaims as I walk through the door. “You’re home just in time.”
Glancing, I notice Camiel, Paisley, and Ayana are sitting on the barstools in the eat-in kitchen.
“In time for what?” I question.
“We’re heading to the mall for some retail therapy. You want in?” Ayana inquires.
Perfect.
If they leave, I won’t have to worry about one of them bursting into my room due to prolonged silence.
“Next time,” I promise.
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