Ansia

“Stop! What do you think you’re doing?”

I slammed my sneakers on the ground, rustled my hair and let my head slip into my hands. My heartbeat sped up. I held my breath, but that just instigated the feeling. I had just finished untying the first bunny-eared knot on my favorite shoe, preparing to slip it on. But it didn’t matter now; it was apparent that I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Do my warnings mean nothing to you? I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

I checked my clock, which was perched on the nightstand next to my unmade bed, nervously and compulsively. I’m going to be late again. I can’t be late on Valentine’s Day. The words cycled through my head like bike wheels at a spin class.

“I can hear you, you know. He’s not coming for you. Especially not if you’re looking like that.”

Hot, frustrated tears welled up in my eyes when I exhaled as I rose from the corner of the bed and trudged the six steps it took to get from there to the bathroom mirror. My makeup bag was tipped over, its contents splayed out atop the granite counter, like some sort of Sephora bomb had just gone off in the sink. I swear I did exactly what the tutorial said. Everything is fine and I think it looks ok.

“You think honey, but I know. That look won’t cut it. Who do you think you are, some sort of model or beauty guru? Take it off. It’s not worth it. You can’t go like that.”

“I spent three hours on this! I’ve redone it twice and he’s going to be here any minute now. I’m ready to go. I am going,” I retorted on an exhale, with a twinge of anger and determination in my shaky voice.

“Ah, but need I remind you of everything that could go wrong?”

Damn it. I hate it when you play that card…

Where’s my phone?

“That’s what I thought.”

I sent the text at 5:57 PM, just three minutes before he was going to pick me up. I think it said something like, “Hey! I haven’t been feeling very good. Probably shouldn’t go out tonight. Sorry for the short notice." But I can’t remember exactly. I’d been stuck staring blankly at my ceiling all night, just thinking of all of the things that I would have, could have and should have done, my three best friends lately. My phone buzzes about twenty-five times. I don’t answer.

“They’re not about you. Nobody cares about you.”

Right, they couldn’t have been for me, my head spins. Who would care enough to call me? Telemarketers, I conclude, every single one of them. I fell asleep after that thought had played in my head repeatedly, probably about three hours after watching the fan turn and its shadows make their laps around the dimly lit room. The only sense of peace I’d have for a while.

…

I awoke quite sometime later, confused, with makeup smeared on my pillow with honest help from two rivers of tears. I probably should have taken my makeup off…

“Finally you’re right about one thing silly girl.”

What time is it? Where did my phone end up? I ran my hands across the comforter and under the sheets, with no success. With a little more panic in my actions, I ripped the blanket off and shook it out, only to hear a cringeworthy thud. The panic had spread to my entirety. I automatically jumped to the worst case scenario when I reached to pick up the facedown phone and examine the damage underneath.

“Well, now you’ve really done it this time. How are you going to pay for that? With what money from what job? You can’t ask your parents to help you out again. You’re already a nuisance.”

I take a long breath and hold it in. The moment of truth. I flip my phone over.

“It’s fine,” I sighed, “Everything’s fin-”

The screen lit up with a shocking message, or more accurately, messages. I scrolled and scrolled; my estimate of twenty-five was way off. When I finally got to the bottom and noticed what had been waiting there for my eyes, I was dumbfounded.

From: Ro

Received at: 6:45 PM, February 12th, 2018

Hey, is everything ok? It’s unlike you to miss class. Wanna talk?

He was worried about me?

“No, not worried, disappointed.”

I swept a cascading tear from my face and a stretched my lips into a faint smile as I scrolled up, about halfway back to the top, and noticed another message.

From: Mom

Received at: 12:57 PM, February 13th, 2018

Hey honey! We missed you at brunch today! Haven’t seen you in a while, hope things are well. XOXO, Mom

Right, brunch with Mom and Dad, I remembered and glanced down at the new dress I had bought that was lying crumpled on the floor next to my bed, wrinkled and blotchy with makeup filled tears.

“It’s a shame you spent one hundred dollars on that dress to only wear it long enough to look at yourself, sob and change right back into your baggy, old pajamas.”

More tears trickle down; my hands start to feel like windshield wipers. I finally make it to the top of the messages, the most recent.

From: Ro

Received at: 9:45 PM, February 14th, 2018

Ansia, I don’t think you’re sick. Nobody has seen you in almost three days. Valentines Day. We were going to go to the movies, then to Rico’s Steak House. You canceled like 3 minutes before. That’s not like you. I don’t think you’re just at home with a cold or something. I’ll be at your house at 11.

“He’s lying. He won’t visit you. He’s just mad that he had to waste his money on a nice new outfit and some flowers.”

I haven’t been out in almost three days? I strained my mind to remember what in the world I had done and struggled to think of the reasons and excuses for why I hadn’t been out.

I would have had a history test on the 12th. I didn’t feel ready…

I should have had brunch with my parents on the 13th. I didn’t like how I looked…

I could have had a great Valentines Day with Ro on the 14th. I didn’t think he really liked me that much anymore, so I stayed home.

“This is so stupid! Why would I ever think like that?” I raged, this time confident and justified with my anger. I meant business.

“And now you are going to go back to bed because you know you don’t belong. Haven’t I taught you this already?”

That right there. That’s when I knew. Alarm bells went off in my head, loud and clear as if there was a firetruck plowing into my ears, through my brain, and out the other side. Red flags shot up like fireworks, and this time I couldn’t ignore them. I wouldn’t ignore them. But my head, it became foggy from the smoke and commotion of this realization. My heart, it was thrown off its rails, thumping and pounding faster than a runaway train. My breath, it became uneven and staggered like that of a shot and dying beast. My eyes, they were glazed over one second, then began pouring the next, like the sky before a thunderstorm. And what a storm it was.

“Stop! What do you think you’re doing?” I managed to growl in-between the heaves of my breath and rapids of my tears. “You… you haven’t taught me anything except for how to live as a shell of myself. I’ve had enough. We’re done. You’re not welcome here any longer.”

…

The next thing I remember feeling was the vibrations of the floor from the knocking on the door - apparently someone had heard the showdown. Fortunately, a familiar, comforting sound came next, Ro’s voice asking if everything was ok. Before I gathered myself and got up off of the rug I had sunken onto, I peaked at the clock. Eleven, just like he’d promised.

“Hey Ansia, open up. It’s just me. Is everything ok in there?” The words rang in my head like a sweet, refreshing melody. His words. I couldn’t have asked for anything better myself. They meant I wasn’t alone anymore. I wasn’t in my head anymore.