Cloud 69

27:

Seven days.

It has been seven days and Carson still hasn't come out of his room. 

My mom didn't have much of a problem with it, as of right now. As long as he allowed her in his room at least once a day to check on his self-inflicted injuries, and ate some amount of the food she would bring to his door, she wouldn't fight him on it yet. 'There's nothing more we can do until he's ready to be helped,' she said when I pressed her on it.

I just- I thought this would only last for a day or two. But it's been seven. And with every day that goes by, I'm more and more frustrated about how little I know.

I didn't want to push him or anything, but I had just assumed that he would want to talk about whatever the hell had happened by now. 

I couldn't force him. I guess I understood what my mom said: it wouldn't mean anything unless he wanted it to. I could lock him in my room until he told me what was going on, but it wouldn't do any good.

At this point, I didn't even care if he wouldn't talk to me. I just wanted him to talk to someone about what was going on. As long as he let someone in, as long as he had someone he felt comfortable talking to, it didn't have to be me. I wish it would be him, but just as long as he no longer felt alone, or the need to isolate himself. 

Another bolt of lightning struck out across the sky, illuminating the world for a mere second. Then, the sky was back to the pitch black it had been for hours on end. 

The cool breeze felt good from my balcony. It was going to rain any time now. I always enjoyed the calm before the storm. However, it wasn't as comforting as it usually is. The more I tried to not think about Carson, the more I thought about Carson. It was like he dug a hole in my brain and now he was stuck in there forever. 

It was weird: I wanted to be angry at him. I wanted to yell at him for what he did to himself. And I wanted to kill him for being so stupid instead of asking any of us for help or to talk. In fact, I wanted to hate him. In fact, I did hate him. 

But I couldn't hate him, not really. Not anymore at least. 

Placing my head in my hands, I took a deep breath before heading back inside. I had a good feeling that the power would soon go out, so I pulled a bunch of candles out of my drawer and started placing them around my room, lighting each with a match along the way.

Just as I finished, thunder grumbled loudly from the distance, shaking everything in my room. The rain came next. It was poured down, hitting the ground with loud pitter-patters. 

Once I could smell the wet pavement, I closed the doors to my balcony, locking them and closing the curtains. The room glowed in a warm, yellow tint from the wavering light of the candles.

The ceiling light above me flickered after an especially bright crack of lightning. I decided to switch my light off now and rely on the candles. I was going to go to bed soon, anyway, so the dim lighting wouldn't be too much of a bother.

Another loud bout of thunder caught me by surprise. I could hear the rain splattering against the ground, even with all my windows closed. My thoughts returned to Carson again. It occurred to me that even though he would probably try to get rid of me again, I should check on him.

To be honest, I probably didn't need to. He's a grown man and it's a thunderstorm, not a tornado. Really, if I was being truthful, it was just a lame excuse to go to him and possibly get him to talk to me.

I wasn't even sure how to go about it. What could I say to make him not kick me out immediately? 

I debated it for a minute, whether it was even a good idea to try. I didn't want to say the wrong thing and accidentally make it worse, and make him even less inclined to come to me when he was ready.