Purpose ❆ Benny Rodriguez

08 | gray

09/14/2015

chapter eight ;
GRAY

♡

E L I Z A B E T H
point of view.

　

SCHOOL WAS SIMPLY not an option. The moment the alarm clock blared, signaling six o'clock, whatever wisp of sleep I had managed to catch hold of fled. At most, I had gotten two minutes of actual sleep – the previous hour had consisted of attempting to sleep, and the hours before . . . a much more complicated story to tell.

　Tears burned at my tired eyes. Every bone and muscle in my body was sore; every nerve had been shot. Not only was I utterly fatigued, but I was also collapsing under the weight of stress. And the worst part of it all: I had to get up in a few hours to work. To restart the endless cycle.

　After turning off my phone completely, I allowed myself to return to my previous state. My eyes fluttered shut effortlessly. Curling my body around the long pillow beside me, I released a sigh. The tire alone made me want to burst into tears. To sleep forever. To give up.

　Of the time I was uncertain. All I knew was, before I could actually fall asleep, my bedroom door swung open.

　"Get up, Liz. It's time for school."

　"Ever heard of knocking?" I grumbled, adjusting myself so that my face was buried into my pillow.

　"Yeah, but you didn't answer."

　Eyes remaining closed, my eyebrows pulled together. "You knocked? I must be out of it. I didn't think I fell asleep."

　The bed dipped down beside me. "Yeah, well, we have ten minutes to get to school."

　"Go away, Benny, I'm obviously not going," I said, voice muffled by the pillow. Every simple thing seemed to anger me lately – the tired, grouchy side of me was now the actual me, it felt. Talking was an immense and annoying effort.

　"Why not?"

　The anger grew in my chest – but it was mixed with something else. Because when I opened my eyes to tell Benny off, I choked up, and a second later, the tears flowed from my burning eyes. And no matter how hard I tried to pull myself together, the tears only grew hotter and more consistent. I felt weak in every way – mentally and physically.

　Benny sat still for a moment, unsure of what to say. But he ended up not speaking at all, not asking for an explanation; he simply lay down beside me, wrapping me in his arms. Lying there in the arms of my little brother, I felt smaller than ever.

　"It's okay," Benny whispered, his cheek pressed against my head. My forehead pressed against his chest, and I gripped onto his shirt. "Just let it out."

　If only he knew.

　A minute later, though, I pushed Benny away from me lightly. "Go," I sighed, vigorously wiping at my puffy eyes, swallowing the painful lump in the back of my throat. "You don't need to be late for school."

　Benny nodded, reluctant to leave me. He placed a kiss on my forehead. "Okay. Get some sleep, okay? And call off work. You look like death. Love you."