Click here: http://w.tt/1MgFQgC to read Wren's perspective, which my friend is writing. Vote and comment! -Mable Faviago ©
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It was a sleepless night. I couldn't stop the thoughts buzzing around my undeserved mind. My eyes had adjusted to the pitch black surroundings. Distinctly, I could make out the shadow of my blinds cascading across my sky blue walls when cars drove by with their blinding headlights.
I slipped my phone from my bedside table, gripping my lips with my teeth, as my hand slid across the prickly spikes of my cactus, and dialed Wren's phone number.
"Hello, this is Wren and I can't make it to the phone right now, but-" Wren greeted playfully through the phones speaker.
To interrupt, I giggled in a hushed tone. "Come on Wren, I know you answered the phone."
"Alright baby girl, you got me," I heard a smirk form on her lips (it is possible, I promise you). "Are you alright? Is something wrong? I thought you'd be asleep by now."
"I couldn't sleep.. I have a lot of stuff on my mind right now, but I was wondering..." I paused.
My eyes darted across the seemingly monochrome room to check for any human life form on the landing; it seemed to concern my parents just how many hours after dark I spent on my phone. When it was clear, I continued, "What exactly are we?"
"I'm not exactly sure what you mean, Al." She spoke in a questioning tone. I heard a can crunch raucously. Therefore, I figured that she was wide awake via the bulky supply of Monster and video games.
I pulled out all my confidence, all my grace and capability to utter seven significant words. "I'm saying, will you be my girlfriend?"
"Of course I will." She stated. A humongous smile formed on my lips, my stomach bubbling joyfully. "One condition though," she added.
"What's that?" The minority of the smile faded gracefully into the midst of night.
"You let me take you to the school counsellor tomorrow, like you promised me a few weeks ago, please?"
"Would it make you happy?" I replied doubtfully.
"Extremely." She paused, dying in the game. She bellowed fiercely, like the roar of a tiger.
I pictured her mentally, with her back arched against her bedroom wall uncomfortably; her phone between her shoulder and her mop of raven hair. I imagined the control clutched tightly between her fingers and her eyebrows arched in complete game mode.
Eventually, she spoke again, "Sorry about that. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes, alright. Meet me outside of the art corridor at dinner time then?" I arranged. A sigh seeped from my dehydrated lips.
"Sure, goodnight Alana. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" She spoke tranquilly.
"Okay. Goodnight Wren." I whispered, and cut the line.
Back to the silence, back to the thoughts. I'd have to face hell again tomorrow, and every person in between the spectrum that I wanted to eradicate from my memories of tonight. I wanted to forget every single moment from tonight, except for one. That one was obvious.
I knew I wasn't going to the counsellor in aid of myself, but for Wren. I wanted that so much not to be true, but it was. Who knows, though? Perhaps this could be the first few miles on the road to my recovery. Perhaps.
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The monotonous room stood at the foot of the school, next to the nurses office. From the outside of the room, you wouldn't be able to seek the devastating secrets and confessions it held inside.
In front of Wren and I was a bland, grey door and two dark purple seats to the left. The door opened with a small click. I caught a glimpse of Rain's brown locks and flushed cheeks before our eyes met for merely even a second. She fled, brushing past my shoulder.
Wren and I exchanged discombobulated glances.
"Alana James?" A woman called through the door. She was a small, but stocky middle-aged lady with styled brown hair and a beautiful necklace roped around her neck.
I nodded, feeling Wren's fingers intertwine tightly with my own. We entered to the room together, nervous smiles all around. Even though two years had passed, it all looked far too familiar: from the crystal white walls, to the washed out grey carpet and the peculiarly shaped houseplant resting in the corner ("to add some colour to this place"). Even the smell was familiar, just thankfully not the same counsellor.
A range of questions later, it was my turn to speak. Fidgeting throughout my rant, I pulled my cardigan sleeves over my left hand. My fingers subconsciously picked at the cotton.
"I thought I could keep it under the wraps, yanoe what I mean? And then I could feel it creeping up on me, so I started taking antidepressants again, but they make me nauseous." I took a deep breathe, "It's like a time bomb, really. You know it's there, and the blow is inevitable. It's like you're slowly slipping away from yourself, but there's no one there to lift you higher then you were before. I keep telling myself it's okay, Alana, you got this... But do I really have this?" I thought out loud.
Wren drew slow circles on the back of my hand with her thumb, which soothed my soul. My eyes met hers, and tears left track marks down her cheeks to her chin. She was crying?
"I'm so sorry." She mouthed, sadness lining her eyes.
I tried to blink, however my eyes were desert dry. I mouthed back "it's okay" before my attention was drew back to the counsellor.
"We're gonna get you better. But I will need to get you some other tablets. And we will need to carry on these appointments, perhaps once every two weeks until you leave. Is that alright?" The short lady smiled warmly at me. Her brown eyes beckoned me to open up.
I simply nodded. "That's fine. Can Wren come with me, please?" A timer set on her laptop beeped deafeningly.
"Of course, if it makes you more comfortable. That's the session done for today. I do urge you to come back in two weeks." She finalised, getting to her feet.
Before stepping outside, she poddled over to me, enveloping me into a warm-hearted, fuzzy hug. In addition to this, she planted a meaningful peck on my cheek. I figured it wasn't part of the job to hug mentally ill students, so part of me felt extremely special. She did the same every session.
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When the door closed behind us, so did everything it left behind, which lifted a weight.
Wren obtained a thoughtful smile that danced across her lips. She slowly stepped towards me, allowing our foreheads to brush together affectionately.
"That was so brave." She spoke, placing a single, salty kiss on my lips.
I shrugged, "Was it? I don't think so. I just did it for us." And this time, it was true. I realised I wasn't just getting better for her, but for me too.
"Yes then," she agreed.
I was puzzled. "Yes...?"
"Yes, I'll be your girlfriend." She repeated, planting a second kiss on my lips. Girlfriend. I craved the sound of that. "So how about a date at the end of the month, when I get payed? I won't be offended if you say no to it, I just thought it would be nice to end to the week. To say fuck you to what happened to the party, and move on."
"Yes!" I squealed.
"Only if you promise me one more thing, Alana James." She said, a hint of playfulness in her eyes.
"What's that?" I enquired, my lips stretching into a grin.
"You don't have a say in where we go. I figured if we plan where we go together, you'll complain at literally everything I suggest. So instead, I'm just not telling you." She winked.
I slapped her playfully on her upper-arm. "Don't fucking push it." I joked.
A laugh flooded from her lips like a blinding melody. "Fine, but I'm still not telling you."