Author's note: uhm, well, i used this for my portfolio for high school. (i go to a performing arts school and... Show full author's note »
Her mother calls me to say she needs Odelia to eat, but Odelia doesn’t want to eat. She tells me, she’s been sleeping for what seems like days. She needs to eat. She asks, what do you think she’ll eat? I tell her to try oatmeal. I say, just give it to her.
She rings hours later. She tells me Odelia fell asleep. With a smile forming on her face she says, after she ate her oatmeal. She says thank you before she hangs up.
She sleeps with her eyes open, if she’s even sleeping. I shake her lightly, and she opens her eyes wider, her beautiful, blue eyes.
Except now they’re grey and glazed over. Glassy. At nineteen, she has the eyes of someone four times her age.
She doesn’t wake; in fact, her eyes go back to slits. I say it louder. Then even louder. I go louder.
She flips. CHARLES, CHARLES, CHARLES, GET OUT!
I need to get ready. I have to go.
I ask her, for what? She says, I need to get my clothes. I need to get them so I can go! Charles, can I have your hand? I give my hand to her and she pulls on it. She grips it until I think she’s going to take it. I ease her off and she grabs my shirt.
It catches me off guard, and suddenly my face is in her bed. I just stay like that for minutes until her grasp loosens. I look up and she’s sleeping.