Hearing Anna

ii.x

ZOLOFT PILLS ARE HUGE. perhaps that's an exaggeration, but it feels like swallowing a kumquat whole. i don't remember them feeling so impossible to choke down, but maybe i'm just going insane.

maybe it's because it isn't for me; it's for elliot. i wouldn't care less if i was so sick in the head if i was the only person affected by it, but elliot has a foot in the water, too.

maybe i'm doing it because i need his light to outshine the shadows i cast onto myself.

no matter elliot, the pills suck. it's hard to get back into a routine when all your body wants to do is sleep.

nonetheless, i've taken them.

lisa's noted a change in my energy, which she believes was already low and has now plummeted. she says i need to get out of our room for a while, just breathe and take in some fresh air.

"i keep the window open so often, mate, what more do you expect?" i grumble.

"i expect you to operate as a human on her way to being more typical, less depressed." her pig-like nose wrinkles. "staying cooped up in a room whenever you aren't in classes is only counteracting whatever good may come from those pills."

i don't listen to lisa very well. it's another two days of quiet hours in our dorm before a knock arrives at the door.

i don't care who it is; i can't find the drive to even get off of my bunk. i say, "come in," and miraculously the person hears me.

the knob of the door turns with a creak, and when it's far enough open for me to see the visitor, i curse myself for inviting him into the room.

elliot's mess of dark hair is the first thing i recognise. then the unsaturated look of his skin. then his eyes, sitting tired in sunken eye sockets. in his hands, he carries an oversaturated bouquet of pretty blue flowers. they glisten with droplets of rain.

"hello," i mumble, unsure how to react.

he says nothing in return, but gravitates toward my bunk. it isn't rain, but snow, i realise when i glance out our closed window.

though his eyes are tired, they remain filled with the essence of all that is elliot. they're a soft brown, and he looks down at me with a kindness unknown to any ire, at the least.

"may i sit?" his voice is soft, too.

i nod, and the box springs creak under our combined weight as he settles next to me. there's got to be at least thirty centimetres between us, so the air remains cold.

"i, uh, brought these for you." timidness fills his voice to the brim as he hands the flowers to me. they're so pretty, so perfectly fit to be from him.

i take them. "thank you." my voice has shrivelled up to some small creature since taking zoloft again. it's hard to say more than a few words without feeling dizzy.

silence seeps in through the cracks in the walls, adds a layer to the dust-covered room.

"i thought you've been feeling ill, so i thought - "

"it's okay. thanks."

there's tension in the air between us. i don't know what kind, but it's unsettling. it demands to be breached, but there's nothing to do about it. we remain thirty centimetres apart.

"have you been okay? anything wrong lately?"

i can't tell him about the meds.

"did i do something?"

"no." never.

i feel the reminiscence of the feeling i had last week after our outing. the feeling of choking, but i know it isn't real. it's dulled by the medication and by the genuine concern in his face.

he waits, lets the blanket of quiet grow a little more snug. "is there anything i can do?"

i remind myself that i can't cry, shouldn't cry. because really, he can do everything and more. he has a heart truer than any, and i shouldn't be afraid to cry when near him.

despite my fears, tears fall down my cheeks.

i find a pair of arms wrapped around me quickly, gently pulling me into a strong, warm body. his shirtsleeve shows the remnants of my tears. i tremble because this is all i want, to let my guard down again because i don't constantly fear an all-too-common occurrence.

he presses his lips to my forehead, whispers that it's okay, that i'm okay.

and for the first time in a long time, i feel safe.