Fourteen Days

The next day I opened up my eyes to the unbearable noise of plates clacking against each other. Every sound I heard was like a rock hitting my head really hard. It was a bad day. All the steps my family made was intolerable, all the cars that passed by my house, every word they spoke, every door being opened and shut.
Trying to find some calm, I turned around and pulled the blanket over my head to at least dim the light I was seeing. I had a look at my phone to check the time. Bad idea, the display was brighter than Jesus. After the throbbing pain in my head had faded slightly, I could realize how it was 11 am already! I did actually sleep for 9 hours.
Was it the alcohol?

Catherine and I hadn't done much more the evening before. We were just chatting and I was bringing up the worst jokes ever and she laughed with her heart and soul. But now that I look back at it, all of these moments, they were precious, they were invaluable. And I didn't see it. I didn't notice. It's fucking me up, knowing that once I was in paradise, not knowing the truly priceless time we spent.
That's not the point...

A knocking on my door made me pull the blanket off of me to see who'd open up my door.
A face that looked familiar to mine was smiling at me.
"Hey, slowly get up and get something nice to wear on. Your grandmother is going to be there in half an hour!", my mom told me and directly shut the door again.
Asking myself why i should even get dressed for the people that don't give a flying fuck about me, I heard her footsteps fading as she walked into the living room. My family was making me sick. All the fake friendliness, the smiles, the stupid, same old annoying smalltalk. Disgusting.

I couldn't say no and got up. Click click. Two painkillers. I took them with the hope they would work soon. And that i would be able to get some wine. My family should be bearable after that.


"How's school, sweethear?", my grandmother asked me taking a little bit of food on her fork. Her hands were shaking a little. She's been getting old. It's a little wonder how she always said she wouldn't make it through another year since she was 70. This year she turned 93. She was a nice grandmom. Just weird... confused... old.
"It's okay," I said poking my food. It was only 12 pm - not a time for me to eat. So I sat there with no appetite, slowly swallowing the food I didn't even like. Luckily I could get something really small so the calories would only bother me little.
While the others were fiercely discussing uninteresting subjects with way too loud voices, my grandmom kept the "conversation" of us two up. "Do you know what you're gonna do after school already?"
I shrugged, "Maybe study languages, I'm not sure at all." With the words leaving my mouth I started to ask myself: How am I supposed to know what I will do within the next few years while I don't even know if I want to be alive the coming day?
But there was no way to end it. People need me, right? At least some. Or someone...
I couldn't do that to anyone. To make them grieve about me just because some stupid thought told me to do so. They wouldn't understand anyway. Cause no one did.

Everything around me went blurry and distanced. Everyone was so far away from me, just like myself. The words got lost within the room. I heard them, but I didn't seem to understand them.
I saw a strange face. It was all pale and looked empty. Who's that? It's a reflection on a glass, unfamiliar as the thousand faces I could see at a city.
I focused on that picture of a face. Brown eyes, brown hair, snub nose. A shock hit me hard as I started to realize that it was me. I moved my eyebrows just to see the reflection change with me. How could I forget myself?
And suddenly the blurr started to fade, all it left was the distance to everything, a cold me.
What a nice party it was.

Notes