Lily

I don't want to wake up today.

Not today.

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2. II

I don’t want to wake up today.

 

Not today.

 

But I have to, so I’m going to paint a smile on my face along with the concealer I wear to hide my scars, and hope that nobody notices that my eyes don’t want to play along.

 

The walk to school is long, and cold, and I am tortured by my own thoughts.  

 

Issie doesn’t say anything to me when I meet her by the gate. Her irises are shimmering pools of stardust and when she throws herself at me, I hold her as she sobs inky tears into my hair.

 

When she finally speaks, I hate her for it.

 

“Do you miss her?”

 

“I despise you.” those three words stab an ice-cold dagger between my ribs, it’s worse than when she was shouting.

“Lily, please!” desperate, so desperate.

“Stay away from me!”

 

No, no, no, no. I distract myself with sorrowful melodies, repeating lyrics as my mantra, willing to forget. Issie has mascara trails, falling like ribbons down her flushed cheeks, and her eyes are swollen. Why is she so sad? She didn’t-she wasn’t-I can’t do this. I can’t go to school, and have dull, monotonous lessons, and pretend that EVERYTHING IS NORMAL WHEN IT ISN’T AND WILL NEVER BE.

 

I flee.

Sprint down the street, worn boots skidding on the concrete and Issie wailing after me like a spoilt toddler.

 

I can’t believe I was ever your friend.” Lily spits the words out like they were something distasteful.

“Lily, please, I’m begging you. Please.”

“Don’t ever speak to me again.”

 

The houses fly by and there’s an ache in my side but I enjoy the pain. It keeps my mind away from the darkness.

 

Tendrils of memories curl around me and fasten tight, forcing me to remember, to summon that night again in my mind.

 

Where is she?

“Lily!” I yell.

And I can hear her call back.

But it’s a call that chills me.

“ROSE! HELP ME!”

 

“Lily!” she can’t hear me, I know, but I’m too lost and I don’t know what’s real anymore. I hasten, running and running and I think people are staring but I don’t care-

 

And I can see her now, on the floor, and she’s screaming and screaming and screaming because they’re kicking her, kicking her with torn up Nikes and laughing. One of them’s got her bag and is chucking her books on the floor, ripping her purse open and he’s smiling so wide at Lily because he knows she can’t do anything, but I can, and I launch myself at him, biting and scratching because they’re hurting Lily, hurting Lily, and I can’t let them do that.

 

Now I’ve been chucked onto the ground, I’m screaming a torrent of expletives at them and they’re cackling, punching me, and I see nothing but darkness.

 

I’ve reached the park now and I collapse onto a bench.

The voices from the past are attacking me again and I know precisely why.

 

It’s been one year exactly.

 

One year since Lily died.

 

I open my heavy lids and the world rushes in at once.

“Lily?” I ask hesitantly.

There’s no answer so I stand up shakily and look around.

And oh god, I wish I didn’t. Lily is lying on the tarmac like a rag doll; her side is blooming red flowers of blood, crimson rivulets streaming into a puddle by her hip. Her neck is at a terrible angle and her usually tan skin has paled to an alabaster white.

 

They killed her. She put up a fight and they killed her.

 

I can cry now.

 

but i wake up in a white room that i dont recognise. 

there is a man sitting next to me.

"had a good sleep, Lily?"he says.

i swallow the pill he gives me and there is black.

 

I don’t want to wake up today.


Not today...

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