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8:40
SATURDAY
SANTA CARLA
THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT LUCY.
I am stripped from my ability to perceive both my surroundings and time; with the little evidence that I have left of my existence, I let the breath that is trapped in my chest free and out of my throat. My body is light, as light as air itself, and I feel as if I am floating steadily in a room of golden light. When the back of my body hits a flat but soft surface, it bobs up and down with its impact. My head is spinning and my vision is not far off of complete dismissal, when I flutter my eyes repeatedly, I realize that the light I had felt enveloped in is sunlight. My stomach churns and I swallow down nausea that's threatening me; I feel as if I have been laying here for minutes, hours maybe. When I finally get the strength to turn my head, I study the honey rays of light piercing the tainted, oval glass to my left. I'm in my room, had I been sleeping all this time?
Was that all just a dream?
I gather the courage to push myself upwards and I groan when my skull throbs, my hand reaches for my forehead and I roll circles over my temples. My body curls over itself and my elbows rest on my knees and when I un-squeeze my eyes I notice that I am still dressed in the clothes from yesterday. Was it yesterday? What even is today?
I turn my head and glance around the attic room in hopes that somewhere in its emptiness I'll find answers, though when I realize that it has nothing to offer, I push myself up to my feet and steady myself using the edge of the bed. I feel a tickle against my bare skin and I realize that the window is tilted open, the breeze of the crisp morning air ghosts against my fleshy neck. Did I open that?
A click goes off in my brain and I twist down to the ground to reach for my bag; it is already unzipped though I'm almost certain that it was me who left it open in the midst of discovering my new home. My hand fumbles inside and I pull out all of the loose clothing that sits inside until I am able to find the two small containers that I need. The contents rattle, I twist it open and pour the dosage into my palm, and repeat with the other bottle. Without thinking, I throw them back into my mouth, they settle on my tongue for just a minute before I swallow them back and down my throat. I question whether they will make it to my stomach when I can still feel them like a lump in my throat, so I stand up and make my way to the kitchen.
The house is filled with a brightness that I wasn't prepared for, I squint my eyes and blink away the soreness before continuing onwards.
"We don't talk anymore." I hear Lucy's voice before I see her; she is sitting in the conservatory across the living room, though my line of vision ends when greeted with the stained glass, "If there is anything you ever wanted to talk about, trouble with girls? School? We could talk about anything you want to talk about!"
