The Return [1]

(Malory)

I get out of my warm, vanilla-scented bath and curl my toes into the bathroom mat, staring at my figure in the large oval mirror over the sink.

I don’t look like I used to. There are dark circles around my eyes again and I just can’t seem to fix them anymore. My shape has changed a bit –I’ve become thinner.

But how could I? I haven’t stopped eating.

My eyes are dimmer, too. They used to be a brighter grey. Brighter and a little more blue –or maybe I’m just tired and the white light in the room is fighting against my weary perspective.

Yea.

That has to be it.

I’m just tired.

It’s been a couple hours since I almost took a taxi to Kyle’s place. I’m tired of messaging him and not getting any responses. After getting no replies to my texts for a solid hour, I gave up. I just gave up. He can do whatever the hell he wants anyway. I had to remind myself that Malory Lloyd does not beg members of the male species for answers. I will get the answers myself –after I get some sleep.

I grab my towel from the hanger and dry my skin before leaving the bathroom. The house is so quiet. It’s always quiet. Whether my mom is here or not –it’s just too quiet all the time.

It’s not like I miss the action that happened here all the time when my dad was around. I don’t. Arguing, glass breaking, the chaotic consequences of drunkenness… it’s better off without all that.

Still, sometimes I can hear the echoes of the chaos in these now silent walls. I remember it all so clearly –like it’s still happening; still real; still alive.

It’s all I’ve ever known.

It scares me.

I open my drawers to find a pair of pyjama pants and my favourite old, white T shirt. The older it gets, the cosier it feels. I get dressed and sit on my bed, contemplating over whether to read a book until I fall asleep or just turn off the lights and stare at the ceiling until I do instead.

I grip at my blanket and decide to just go with the latter when my phone –charging on the bedside table- rings.

“Olivia?”

“Hey, you,” she says, tiredly. “Did you find out what happened with Kyle?”

I keep forgetting I need to update her and Ron about what’s going on with Kyle.

“He’s really busy. He’s barely said anything. I think it’s his uncle though. His uncle probably has him running lots of errands. He’s supposed to be leaving the country again soon, I think. I tried to drop off his notes, but he wasn’t in, so I couldn’t.” I lie.

“Oh. That’s a bummer. But I guess you’re going to be the first to see him on Monday anyway, so you’ll just keep the notes for him til’ then, okay?”

I nod. “Okay,” I say. I really need a topic change. I don’t feel like thinking about Kyle Davidson. “I’m really tired tonight. I don’t even know what I did to be this tired.”

“It could be so many things,” she tells me, after a beat. “Like… maybe it’s that you’re worried about your mom being away from home, or that you’re alone in that house, or it could be the pressure of the play while trying to keep up with your grades, or knowing our final exams are right around the corner. Or, I don’t know, something could have also happened at work and that’s why you’re so on edge these days, but whatever it is, please for the love of God, Mal, take care of yourself.”

Maybe it’s all those things and more…

I bite my lip. “Okay,” I say.

“You need to stop worrying. All your hair will fall out,” she says, laughing to try to cheer me up.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I say, dryly, though I’m smiling.

“Worth a shot,” she mutters over the other end of the line.

“Well, I’m going to get some rest,” I tell her. “I’ll message you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well,” she says.

“You too,” I reply.

I hang up after a second and lose the grip on my phone. It hits my leg and I flinch for a second. I look around my room and sigh. My eyes land on the light switch. I drag myself over to it to turn it off. I let the moonlight creeping through my window between the opaque grey curtains guide me back to my bed.