Faded Blur

• Jasmine Harnden, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2019

The stone pavement was still warm from the day before as she lay there, staring blankly up at the stars. Her stomach churning, like it was full of giant moths. Her chest tightened, and every breath felt as if it wasn’t enough. Her phone was still warm, pressed up against her stomach, close, just in case. She wondered if it was even a good idea to bring it in the first place, she wasn’t supposed to be thinking right now. It was an unwelcome reminder of every thought she was trying to avoid.
She stared up at the sky, the stars were hardly there. Without her glasses they were a faded blur, too hard to see, but she knew they were there, somewhere. The light of passing cars were unwelcome and bright. She wondered if they saw her. She closed her eyes, realising how silly she must look. Her soft brown hair lay around her like a muddy halo, when she touched it, it felt warm. Her hair reflecting the feeling of the pavement underneath. She found herself with her hand draped protectively her phone, if she turned it on, would there be anything?
It’s healthy to worry she thought. But just how much was healthy? She wondered why she could hardly remember the day before, and all the months prior. It’s like they had been wiped clean from her memory. The dirt that covered them gone, left blank, probably for her own good. She laughed again, this time softer, and shorter than before. Everything had begun to feel painfully similar, like the cycle kept repeating no matter how hard she tried to break it. Her highs were exhilarating, and her lows were crushing. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The air was still warm and humid, it was still better than how suffocating it felt inside. She could feel the irrational, anxious thoughts getting louder in her mind, those thoughts telling her something she awful had happened; Alex wasn’t ok, he needed her. She thought about sending a message, letting him know she was worried. It had been four hours, that meant it was ok to be worried right? She shook her head knowing saying anything about her being worried would make him even more upset. Make him feel worse. She knew he didn’t want her to worry. Feel upset. Cry, because of him. She couldn’t help worrying, she just cared.