12.
March 21, 2015
9:02 PM
Lauren Jackson
To the God out there who is watching everything happen – please help us.
Olivia Coleman
I woke up randomly, my arms still wrapped around Matthew's neck and my face still dug into the crook of his neck. The sky seemed darker than before, and Matthew and I were in a completely different area – it was no longer a neighbourhood, but a city – not the city Lauren and I live in.
He's been carrying me for that long? I thought and was utterly impressed – though I also felt kind of bad because I was probably heavy on him, and he hasn't even rested yet. I wish we had a car – but of course, Lauren and I didn't have one, and Cameron's car is in the repair shop, apparently (rumours from Lauren herself).
I moved a tiny bit, to signal Matthew that I was now nourished with sleep and fully awake. He got the point because he stopped walking and turned his head to glance at me. "Oh, good, you're awake." he said when he realized that I was, and slowly, he let go of me and set me to the ground. He tugged on the backpack I was wearing and I removed it from my back, and he put it on himself.
"How long have I been sleeping?" I asked him and stretched.
"Just twenty-minutes, actually," he answered me and continued walking, and I did, too. I was genuinely surprised; I thought I slept longer – it felt like I did. "But are you awake now?" I nodded and he nodded, too.
I clicked on the home button of my phone: 9:02 pm. "Are you tired?" I asked him, concerned, and he shook his head – and I believed him, because he actually showed no fatigue in his eyes. "Was...was I too heavy?" I then question after and he creased his eyebrows, turning his head to look me in the eye.
"No, of course not. Not at all, actually." he responded grimly, frowning because I even asked that question. A small smile plastered on my face, and I was actually relieved and less tense.
"Once again, thank you...for carrying me."
He shrugged, facing the front again. "Don't mention it," he said. "But still, I wouldn't have to carry you if you were at home – and I would be better off without you here." He walked faster, so that he was only just a little bit ahead of me. I walked slower, trailing behind even more. Even if he couldn't see me, I nodded and looked to the ground, feeling unwanted – because I was unwanted.
Yes, I was sleep-deprived and the fatigue was taking over me, but I do remember what I said – and I do wish for it.
I would rather be lying on that bench, waiting for someone to kill me, than be with someone who doesn't care if I was killed.
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