Chapter Text
Two months. That’s how long its been since she died.
Two, excruciating, agonizing months. Within those two months I could’ve found another roommate. I could’ve moved out and maybe go to another city. But instead of doing that I stayed. I stayed and cried for days on end, telling myself that what happened was all a dream and I’d wake up to her in the apartment again, sitting on the balcony, dreaming of life after college. Now all that’s left is a vague memory of her. I can hardly remember her face now, and trying to visualize it always ends with me having a major headache.
I dropped out of college after the incident. If she wasn’t going to graduate, I wouldn’t either. The only time I actually get out of my bed is to eat and go to work. At work none of my coworkers ever try to make conversation. I think they might hate me, or maybe they just pity me. I can never tell. It’s always been that way, I could never talk to anybody, even as a child I found it hard to make friends. With her I was a completely different person from what others saw. I hope she thought of me the same way as I thought of her. Without her the days blur together into a hazy, foggy daze. I feel like I forget to breathe without her around. Now I just feel like I'm slowly waiting for the suffocation to kill me.
Today was a especially tiring day. The fast food joint I work at was short on staff during the lunch rush so I was forced to work overtime at the register. Each conversation with every customer was as empty as the last. I tried to seem nice and welcoming, as to not upset them, but judging from their behavior, I think I may have freaked them out. When I finally clocked out nobody said “bye!” , or “see you later!”, nobody turned a blind eye. Not that they are legally obligated to, but it would have been nice to be acknowledged for once. The arrival home wasn’t anything special either. I did my usual routine. Double checking I locked the car, stomping up the stairs, opening and locking the apartment door, and immediately going into my room. I felt so lethargic that I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
That particular night there was a loud ‘THUD’ that startled me awake. I nearly jumped the minute I gained consciousness. I hadn’t been that startled since I was a kid. I wanted to go back to bed, but what if someone had broken in? What if they take her belongings? The thought of losing whatever I had left of her presence made me nauseous. I got up to inspect the apartment, wandering around the hallway, peeking my head into each room, doing any and every ritual I could think of to make sure everything was the same as always. When I got to the kitchen, that was when I smelled something putrid. I couldn’t pinpoint the scent but it was as if food was rotting where I was standing. This shouldn’t have been unusual; the idea of tossing out food didn’t occupy my mind too often, a bad habit that often led to vile consequences like mold that seemed to be breathing or roaches protruding out of the sink drain. This smell was strange, though. Closest thing I could think of is pork or beef. This caught me offguard since I only buy frozen foods you put in the oven, a piece of advice she told me when we first moved in together since we were to busy with college and meat was expensive.
I hesitantly approached the fridge with my shirt over my nose, a small yet futile attempt to block out whatever smell awaited me inside. I was proven correct right after. As soon as I opened the fridge door, I was overtaken by this rancid smell. I had to turn away to gag, nearly throwing up before turning right back around to investigate the horrid scent invading our home. Pushing through the frozen snacks with expiration dates years ahead, I was finally met with the source of the scent.
Beef.
I was met with three pounds of moldy ground beef. Three pounds hidden behind frozen foods for about a month now. I didn’t recall buying it. I checked the sell-by date, only to be hit with a revelation. The beef was from around two months ago. She probably bought it a few days before she passed. I don’t know why she would’ve wanted beef. What could she even cook with it? Did she even know how to cook? These questions flooded my mind one by one. I had completely forgotten about that noise from before. I could only think of her. It wasn’t until I had realized I had been standing motionless, thinking of her for fifteen straight minutes that I had thrown away the beef and slowly made my way back to the bedroom. Floorboards creaking under my feet while I walked back into the lonesome room. I hadn’t cleaned up in a while. I nearly tripped over a soda can or two before I had finally made it to my bed. I pulled the blanket over my face, wanting to feel the cool, cloud-like cloth against my forehead, and pretended my mess of a room disappeared.
While attempting to drift off into sleep, thoughts bombarded my head. This occasinally happens from time to time whenever I’m not tired enough to sleep. Each time it only gets more irritating. During periods in the night like this, I always come to the same realization. I’m hopeless. I can’t do anything to help myself. All I’ve done these past two months is sit in this room and wait until I get so hungry my stomach feels like it’s eating itself. I can’t even be bothered to try and help myself. I’m an adult now and yet I’m still so pathetic that I can’t get out of my bed and do something with myself. This is probably why shes dead. I was so pitiful— so miserable that I am apart of the reason she is dead. My roommate, my dearest friend, the woman who meant the world to me- dead!
While I was being hurled through this tornado of self-pity, I had heard something again. This time in the room with me. I jolted wide awake, holding my breath. The idea of someone breaking in had completely left my mind since I smelled the rotting beef. I had immediately assumed the worst. I thought today would be the day I finally died. I would die from being such a stupid failure! I’d die from failing to make sure my own home was even safe! I had not given dying much thought as I just naturally assumed it would eventually happen if I laid motionless in my bed long enough, but dying because of one avoidable mistake? One accident I had control over? Thats just idiotic! I can’t die like that, thats how she died, by neglecting her own safety, she’d be so disappointed finding out I died the same exact way! The idea of that was excruciating. It was painful. The image of her looking at me helplessly as I explained I failed to learn a lesson from her death, she would think she died for nothing!
With newfound determination, I braced myself to unveil the blanket and face the burglar head on. I gripped the edge of the blanket, and slowly unsheathed myself…to be met with a face. A vaguely familiar face. A body too. A familiar face and body on the roof of my bedroom, staring down at me with disgust. Its body contorted on the ceiling- all the bones in the wrong places. Backwards knees, spine with the mobility of a snake, fingers bending where joints weren’t present. It was something mimicking a human. Something about its expression told me it was mocking me. As soon as I made eye contact, my stomach churned. I opened my my mouth to scream but nothing came out. All I had to do was shriek and someone would come running- yet I felt paralyzed. I stayed there still. I knew this bed would become my grave the moment she left my life.