(#1) Roommates by Day, Enemies by Night

Chapter 19

Dylan shuffled in, looking like he's been hit by a truck. There are bags under his eyes, his hair is ruffled and askew, and his face looks pale and sickly.

His eyes widened when he sees me, and he rushed at me. I startled, nearly dropping the glass, saving shards of clear glass and water spraying over the wooden floor. He wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug, nearly squeezing the life out of me.

"Siena, are you ok?" He said, gripping me even tighter. "Where the hell were you? Why didn't you call me if you had your phone on you?"

I patted his back. "I'm fine. I sleep walked again. I'm fine, but I don't know where the hell my phone is. I couldn't find it when I woke up."

Dylan untangled himself from me and stepped back, running a hair through his chocolate hair and making it more askew.

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. "It's here. I found it in Central Park." He handed it to me, and I examined it. A bit dirty, but fully functional.

I slid a finger underneath the case and popped it off, making sure the back's not cracked. He shrugged. "I woke up after we had finished watching The 100 and you weren't in your room, and you weren't picking up your phone. Jake tracked down your cell phone signal and we found the phone in Central Park, but no you. What's going on?"

I stepped away from him and wandered around the kitchen. I don't want to look him right in the eye, for I am too ashamed. I set the phone down and sat on the couch, staring into nothing. He sat down next to me.

"Ok, not feeling like talking today, I get it." He said softly. I glanced over and give him a smile.

"Thanks for the phone." He patted my back and got up, shutting the door to his room.

I sat on the couch, but the obvious question is swirling around in my head. What is going on with me? How do I change this? Can I change this?

That night, instead of going to my room, I fell asleep on the couch.

I woke up in the morning to the sound of Dylan shuffling around the kitchen. Silently, he gives me a nod and I offer him a soft smile back.

He held out a cup of coffee to me which I took, muttering my thanks. "Hey Dylan?" I asked him.

"Yes Siena?" He said stiffly, reluctantly turning around to meet me. "I'm sorry." I apologized. "I can't control it."

His face softened. "I know. I was just very worried." He glanced down and spotted the bandages on my arms. He grabs my wrist and pulls me closer.

I stumbled forward, bumping into his body as he takes an arm in his hands. "What happened to you?" He said, but not with anger. More like sadness.

I cast my eyes downward. "I don't know." I admitted. He fixated on me with a piercing look, and I gulped. Sometimes I feel as if he's the only person who can read me better than I can read myself. He can look right through me.

He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face into my neck. "Please tell me what's going on. You're my best friend. I want to help."

He stopped hugging me and separates himself from me, but still kept his hand at my shoulders. "You are taking your meds, right?"

I nodded. "And you just reminded me." I said, taking a look at the clock. "I've got to take them now."

I pulled away from him and stepped into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Opening the mirror, I take out the little orange container of pills with my name next to it.

I tipped out the entire container of pills into my hand, the white capsules staring up at me. Slowly, I tipped all but two back into the container and screwed the lid back on, setting the container behind the mirror and shutting it.