The phone rang. The door opened, letting out the seclusion for a few seconds. The thing sounded again, in her loose grip. A near voice said it was her friend, but the sentence seemed muffled and distant. The door closed and once more the girl was a hermit, floating in her own blank thoughts, sitting on the edge of the bed. Unblinking.

Ha. Friend. That was a term she hadn’t spoken nor heard of in four months. Faces she could vaguely remember flickered through her mind, asking the same question. She saw them every day, sat with them at lunch, walked with them to class. But she was helplessly lost in her own head, trapped inside. They weren’t were they? They were outside. Always asking the same question. And her one word answer was always the same. Monotonous, blank, flat. Are you okay? Yes.

She clicked the phone on and mutely put it to her ear. She said nothing.

“Hello?”

It was as if she had forgotten civilization. Forgotten how to function. Frantically, her brain searched for words in the cobwebs. The findings were pathetic.

“Hi.”

“Wow. That’s the first sentence I’ve heard you say in a million years, chick.”

Sadly, it was true. Almost.

“Yeah, so listen. I know you’ve been distant and everything has been pretty weird these past few months without you being yourself…”

He talked. Like it had only been a few days since they had last hung out, last spoken. It was an odd conversation. She zoned out for the most part, half listening, her grip getting sweaty and limp. He rambled and paused to make sure she hadn’t hung up. When he heard an exhale, he continued. She was a stranger. Who was he?

Oh, right. That word. Those words. Best friend. That’s who he was. Strange.

“…so they just left me here and I was thinking about how you and I haven’t chilled in forever. Come over. We’ll eat junk, play some video games, bash some zombies, get high on Pink Floyd. How bout it?”

She blinked. Again the escapade in her skull. And again, the result was measly.

“Alright.”

“Sweet! So I’ll see you in a few, babe.”

A click and the dial tone. She kept the phone to her ear, staring at the opposite wall with half lidded eyes. Maybe he’d come back and gab some more. She liked it when he gabbed. It felt like home.

* **

He was glad he called. Glad she had agreed. It had taken him a full half hour to get up the guts to dial her number. But it was worth it to hear that stark voice, even if it had only been two words. His ears had forgotten the ring of her voice since she hadn’t said anything to him, or anyone, in four months. And somehow he knew she needed this. He didn’t know what was wrong, nor did he care much if he found out today. He just wanted to make her happy. At least a little bit; he would do anything if it meant seeing that spark again. He would put on a tu-tu and juggle bananas if he had to.

In honesty, something in him crumbled when she started to hide away in herself. Funny how he would miss her when she was walking right next to him. Like a person missed the sight of the Grand Canyon even as they stared at a picture. And besides, what walked wasn’t her. Physically she never left, but when she stopped saying his name, stopped saying anything, stopped looking at anything except the floor, he knew she’d gone. He wasn’t sure if she would return.

His feet flew up the stairs when the doorbell echoed through the house. The sound made him happy. Eager hands tore open the door. The figure standing on the stoop tilted their head up under a rain stained hood. A rev of an engine sounded and the car drove away down the street. Her shoes squeaked as she walked passed him into the hall.

Curious. He walked so he was facing her as she paused to take off her shoes and pull down her hood. He scanned features so memorable and so alien. Her hair was the same. Lime green converse were taken off her feet, streaked with mud and an old death metal sweatshirt hung around her torso. The same naturally good smell clung to her. Just as before.

And then she looked him in the face.

How he missed that face. But something about it disturbed him. There was no hello, no welcoming hug, no grin. She had no makeup. Her expression hung off her cheek bones like melting ice. Hard and cold. But it was the eyes that were the worst. They made him shove his hands in his pockets and look away. Normally a sparkling blue, they were dull. Gray. Emotionless.

He had said once that he would keep bringing her back until the end. So he cupped her shoulder and slapped on a corny smirk.

“Zombie time.”

Silence.

***

Killed seven more. He used the lawn mower, splattering gore on the virtual grass. Briefly he looked to his right. Nothing. She wasn’t even looking- just stared at the carpet. His thoughts turned bitter. To think he had expected that amused laugh and a vengeful, bloodthirsty victory cry. Zombies weren’t cutting it.

The screen went blank.

She shifted at the sound of her name. He saw it barely. Her ears perked the slightest and two of her fingers twitched. That made him cringe. How could she not respond to that nickname? It was a part of their friendship. Part of their bond.

“Come on. Let’s go to my pad.”

No need to guide her. She could find it in her sleep. At least that was something. Just like before. She sat gingerly on the edge of his bed. He plopped down next to her. Increasingly, his mood was dropping like a bomb and the more she sat like a stone the more his motive plummeted. There used to be laughter. Music. Comfort. All he felt coming from her now was hollow. He couldn’t even describe it, didn’t want to. A chill ran over his arms and back when he tried. Where was she?

“Can you say something? Please?”

She knew he wouldn’t pretend everything was normal. He could see it in how she held her hands. A bland, unfamiliar gaze settled on him. He searched it, grasping for an ounce of understanding. He couldn’t read it. At all. It was a book filled with empty pages. Or maybe it was there, full of cries for help, written in clear ink. He just needed to find a black light to figure it out.

“What?”

Flat. Strange.

“Anything. Everything. Please just talk to me. About anything.”

She didn’t move. He got angered with this façade. He couldn’t decipher it.

“What happened to you?”

He almost jumped when she suddenly reached into her pocket. A little white cylinder was shoved into his hands. He brought it to his eye level. It sounded like a rattle.

“I’m supposed to take them. But I don’t.”

He read the label. A wave of ache settled in his stomach. Antidepressants. She had been the strongest out of his friends…

“Why?”

“It’s fake. I don’t want to live in a drugged happiness. It’s gotta be real. It’s gotta be…”

She trailed off and shut her mouth. He studied her expression. It pained him. Almost physically, like needles were slowly sinking into his heart. She seemed confused, like she forgot how to speak. He watched her eyes glaze.

“Talk to me.”

“I’ve done enough of that. Two hours. Every Thursday. The same questions over and over. They think I’ll say something different like they’ll get to my breaking point or something. But the thing is, I’m past my breaking point. That’s why….Why did you do it? I don’t know. Why don’t you know? I’m not sure. Will you try it again? Probably. Why? I don’t know.”

She was ranting, shaking, tugging at her hair. Her eyes kept squinting and opening again. He didn’t get it. But he did. He just didn’t want to believe it. He grabbed her arm. Made her look at him.

“Tell me.”

Quivering. He saw her slouch. He had gotten in. Sorrow replaced the dull in her glassy eyes. Remorse. Guilt.

“I promised. I promised I would stop. And I broke it.”

“No…”

He knew. She saw. He knew exactly. Unconsciously, he wiped an escaped tear off her chin. She shied away from his hand. Turned. Lifted her sweatshirt.

He almost cried. Her back looked like a chopping block. Scars and scabs streaked across her skin. She had told him long ago that she had done that once as a stupid kid. But it was nowhere near as bad as this was. It was a horror movie. He touched a line that ran from hip to hip. It undulated up and down with the ridges of stitches.

“That’s how they found out. It wouldn’t stop bleeding…”

He choked and tried to form something. Anything sensible and soothing to say.

“Please don’t ask me why.”

She faced him now, her hoodie dropped down again. Her head hung. Face streaked with regret. Lonesome. Longing. The most he could do was spit out her name and place his arms around her shoulders. Pulled her close. Sobs sounded against his chest. The ragged breathing made his hands shudder up and down. He rested his chin on the top of her head. She clung to him, soaking his shirt. It was a lifetime. But he held her. Eventually, the wails died down. She sniffed. The air lightened just enough.

“Hey. My brother has the first season of Spongebob and a lot of candy in his room.”

He’d do anything. Just like before.

She slowly looked up and there it was. A flicker of warmth around her pupils. A corner of her mouth twitched and curved just sufficient. There it was.