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13

~Olivia’s POV~
“Hey babe, I think our call was disconnected. Perfect timing, I’m meeting Chris to work on a lighting assignment. Love you, bye.” Is what came out of my mouth. I regretted it the moment I said it.

I’ve spent hours creating a passable diagram for my ceramics project, if my hands aren’t covered in dried clay I’m refilling my bowl with warm water to shape muddy blobs into tea cups. If you want to drink tea from an unglazed, thin lipped and slightly warped cup, I’ll be your go-to girl.

By the end of the semester I plan to have a perfect tea set. My instructor says I’m making progress and she loves my dedication. She offered to let me in the lab this weekend to make as many cups as I want as long as I have a diagram of the finished product. I should be thankful for the drawing experience I’m gaining but I hate drawing. Andy’s the one that can sketch and draw, I have like 9 sketches from his art portfolio hanging on my wall. He’s so talented it makes me gag.

I was up all night figuring out what I wanted to create but the more I thought about it, the more I hated the idea of hot clay on my hands day after day until a Royal Tea Set is created. With a crumpled pile of stick figure like drawings of cups, saucers and teapots on my dorm room floor I found the perfect idea for my final project right on my wall in one of Andy’s pictures. An excited looking Chip from Beauty and the beast inspired my first set of sketches on the many faces of chip. After I texted the instructor a picture of my idea she agreed to give me lab access Sunday. Lucky me, that’s exactly what I wanted to do this weekend.

~Andy’s POV~
My eyes finally force open and I see my bedroom but my wall starts to skew and attempt to turn sideways. I can barely move and my voice isn’t working. My eyes shut and I feel my brain throbbing inside of my skull as my head drops onto my pillow.

I try to will my arm to rise off the bed but it doesn’t. My breathing is slow and labored. The only thing I don’t seem to have to try to control is my heart, maybe that’s the last thing to stop working.

I feel like I can’t wake up, like my eyes are open but I’m not asleep and I’m not awake either. I can’t control my body, and I’m very aware of everything going on in the present moment. I inhale and feel my chest rise, hear the sound of my breathing but the air slowly releases as I exhale and I feel my heart pound against the inside of my rib cage.

After about five minutes of trying with all my might I can press my cheek into the pillow and see the floor next to my bed, the pills on the floor scattered around the empty bottles. I can’t feel my fingers and toes and my arms and legs feel like they weigh too much to move.

After what feels like another hour I can’t press my cheek into the pillow anymore, there are long gaps between my exhales and inhales, and my eyes won’t close. I lay staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, attempting to wiggle my fingers or toes, trying to regain control of my body.

If I could get up I’d run home and never deal with anything again. I’d play guitar and sing until my lungs bled. I vow to myself that I’d never make a mistake like this again. When my wave of thoughts comes less and less often and my eyes stop blinking I realize I can’t fight this battle anymore.

Notes

Thanks for reading :3

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