Fragments Of Isolation

The next few weeks passed in a blur. The routine of college life was supposed to feel liberating, a chance to reinvent myself outside of the house, outside of the suffocating demands of home. But instead, it felt like an extension of my confinement. Different walls, same chains.

Every morning I’d force myself out of bed, slip on long-sleeved shirts to cover the bruises, and head to campus with Sophie, pretending like everything was fine. Pretending like her comments didn’t cut as deep as they did. She didn't mention what happened with Emelie and Jack again, and neither did I. That was the unspoken agreement between us—brush it off, move on, keep up appearances.

Today was no different. I walked through the bustling hallway of the college, clutching my books tightly to my chest, my fingers pressing into the hard edges as if they could ground me. The air was thick with the sounds of conversations, laughter, and the scrape of chairs being pulled out in the cafeteria. I felt like an outsider looking in, watching everyone live lives I couldn’t touch.

Sophie sat beside me at our usual table, her eyes scanning over some notes. “So, I was thinking we could work on that group project together after class,” she said, not looking up. “I mean, you’re so much better at this stuff, and I really don’t have the time to do it all.”

I nodded mechanically. “Sure.”

She smiled, pleased with my compliance as if she expected nothing less. "Knew I could count on you."

Her words settled uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach. I should have been used to it by now, this silent manipulation. It wasn’t that she was outright mean—she wasn’t. But everything she said had an edge, a weight I was supposed to carry for her.

As we sat in the cafeteria, the door to the hall swung open, and I saw two more familiar faces walk in. Emelie and Jack, again. Of course.

They spotted Sophie and me immediately. Sophie waved at them, her face lighting up with that charming smile of hers that seemed to draw people in effortlessly. I tried to shrink into myself, hoping they’d pass us by, but they headed straight for our table.

“Hey, Sophie!” Emelie chirped, completely ignoring me. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh?” Sophie raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Good things, I hope?”

Jack laughed. “Always. I was just telling Emelie how it must be nice for you to have, you know, a project partner who’s basically a walking calculator.” He tilted his head toward me with that same smug expression from before.

I felt my stomach twist, the familiar knot of tension tightening. Sophie laughed along with them, but it was her next words that stung the most.

“Well, someone has to be the brains, right? And I’m just glad Raven can help me out. It’s not like anyone else is lining up to work with her.”

There it was. That slight, casual dismissal. My throat tightened, but I kept my eyes down, focusing on the lines of the notebook in front of me.

Emelie glanced at me, her eyes gleaming with false sympathy. “It’s great that you guys are still close though, you know? I mean, Sophie’s such a good friend to you, Raven. Not everyone would put up with…” she trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

“Yeah, I guess I’m lucky,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. My fingers pressed harder into the spine of my book until they ached.

Jack leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I mean, it’s not like people are lining up to hang out with her. Sophie, you must have the patience of a saint.”

Sophie smiled sweetly as if to say she knew exactly what she was doing. "It's just how I am, I guess. Loyal."

Their laughter buzzed around me, the sound filling my head until I couldn’t hear anything else. I felt like I was underwater, drowning in the noise of their amusement. Sophie’s loyalty wasn’t to me—it was to the image of herself she maintained. The girl who stuck by the weird, damaged friend, because it made her look better, kinder.

After a while, they left, and Sophie turned to me as if nothing had happened. "We should start planning for that project later today. I’ve got plans this weekend, so you’ll probably need to take care of most of it."

I nodded again, feeling the weight of her expectations settle onto my shoulders. I couldn’t even bring myself to argue anymore. What was the point? Sophie had wrapped me in this dynamic so tightly that escaping it felt impossible.

The rest of the day passed in the same haze it always did. Classes, lectures, and more comments from Sophie about how much I needed to pick up the slack. By the time the sun started to set, I trudged back to my dorm, feeling utterly drained.

As soon as I entered the room, I locked the door behind me, sank onto the bed, and stared at the ceiling. The silence in the room was overwhelming but also a relief. No Sophie, no Jack, no Emily. Just me.

I rolled up my sleeves and looked at the bruises on my arms. Old ones. New ones. They overlapped like layers of forgotten pain. I traced the outline of a darker one with my fingertip, wondering when they would finally fade. Maybe they never would. Maybe they were permanent, like everything else in my life.

Suddenly, the sound of the door unlocking snapped me out of my thoughts. My roommate, *Maya*, walked in, carrying a stack of books. I quickly tugged my sleeves down, but I wasn’t fast enough.

"Hey—oh," she paused, her gaze falling to my exposed arm. "What happened to you?"

My heart stuttered in my chest as I searched for an excuse.

"Oh, um... nothing. Just... bumped into a door. You see I can be really clumsy."

Maya didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a moment. Her eyes flicked over my arms, taking in the bruises I was trying so hard to hide. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, louder with every second that passed.

"Are you sure?" Her voice was soft, careful. Too careful.

I swallowed hard, tugging the sleeves down to my wrists. I managed a tight smile, the kind that never reached my eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'm just... clumsy."

Maya didn’t look convinced. Her eyes lingered on my arms, but she didn’t push it any further. She just nodded slowly, a frown creasing her forehead, as she sat down on her bed. The silence between us felt heavier than usual as if something unspoken was hanging in the air, waiting to be acknowledged. But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let it.

I turned away, hoping she’d drop it. Hoping she wouldn’t see how fragile I was.

But in the back of my mind, I knew that she did.

The awkwardness from last night still lingers like a heavy fog between Maya and me. I notice her glancing at me from time to time, her eyes searching for something I refuse to give her—an explanation. But I’m good at avoiding things.

“Did you sleep okay?” Maya asks cautiously, her voice laced with an unspoken question. I feel her eyes linger on my covered arms, as if she’s still waiting for me to confess something.

“Yeah, I did,” I lie, keeping my gaze on my phone as if I have something more important to attend to. In truth, the bruises throb under my sleeves, a reminder of yesterday’s close call. “I’ve got class in a few minutes.”

Maya nods, but her voice is hesitant. “I’ll see you later, then.”

The way she says it makes my skin crawl—like she’s watching me, like she knows.

I grab my bag and rush out the door without another word, leaving the suffocating silence behind.

---

As I walk across campus, my phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s Sophie.

**Sophie:** *Can’t make it to class today. Something came up. You think you could grab my notes?*

I clench my jaw, my thumb hovering over the reply box. Of course, she won’t show up. Why would she? My fingers move mechanically, typing out the same response I always give.

**Me:** *Sure.*

I slip my phone back into my pocket, trying to push away the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. I’m used to being Sophie’s backup plan. Always there when she needs something, always the one left to clean up after her.

As I continue toward class, a flicker of movement on a nearby bulletin board catches my eye. There’s a flyer for some kind of photography exhibition. The black-and-white image on the poster is simple—just a tree, its branches stark against the sky—but something about it draws me in. It’s a fleeting moment captured forever, and for some reason, I wish I could do that. Hold on for a moment. Freeze it before it slips away.

“Interested in photography?” A voice breaks through my thoughts.

I glance up to see a guy with tousled dark hair standing next to me. He’s about my age, a camera slung casually around his neck. His eyes are sharp but kind, and they flicker with curiosity as they meet mine.

“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “Just looking.”

He chuckles. “You should give it a try sometime. You never know.”

Before I can respond, a girl’s voice calls out from behind him. “Aiden! There you are!” She’s petite, with light brown hair tied into a messy bun, and when she reaches him, she playfully smacks his arm. “I told you to stop wandering off. Maya’s gonna kill us if we’re late.”

My stomach tightens at the mention of Maya’s name. I stare at the two of them as they exchange a look—*He knows Maya?* But that can’t be right.

The girl notices me and shoots me a friendly smile. “Sorry, we’re always late. He gets distracted easily.”

Aiden smirks, his eyes still lingering on me as they start to walk off. “Maybe I’ll see you around, yeah?”

I nod, not trusting my voice to say anything coherent. As they walk away, I’m left standing there, piecing together the odd sense of familiarity I felt around him. *Maybe it's a Maya, I don’t know...* It makes more sense now, but I still feel a strange pull toward him, a connection I can’t explain.

---

The rest of the day passes in a blur. I barely listen to the lectures, my mind elsewhere. By the time my last class ends, I’m exhausted, but I’m also relieved it’s over. I reach into my bag for my phone, expecting a few messages from Sophie.

**Sophie:** *Party at Emelie’s tonight. You coming?*

I frown, already typing out my refusal.

**Me:** *I’m not really feeling up to it.*

Her reply is instant.

**Sophie:** *Come on, don’t be like that. You never go out. It’ll be fun!*

I hesitate, my fingers poised to type out another excuse. But I know where this is going.

But saying no was complicated. No meant more questions, more judgment, more of that look—the one Sophie always gave me when I disappointed her. Like I was some half-finished puzzle missing the pieces she needed me to have.

**Sophie:** *Please? It won’t be the same without you. I need you there.*

The guilt settles over me like a familiar weight. I sigh, typing out the response she wants to hear.

I didn’t want to go.

I don't want to go.

I don't have a choice.

**Me:** *Fine. I’ll come.*

The party is in full swing by the time I arrive. Music pumps through the walls, and the smell of alcohol lingers in the air. I immediately feel out of place, as if I’ve stumbled into someone else’s life. I scan the room, spotting Sophie near the back with Emelie and Jack.

“There she is!” Emily calls out, waving me over with a wide grin. “I thought you were gonna bail.”

I force a smile and join them. Emelie hands me a red cup, the liquid inside sloshing around as she holds it out to me.

“Here, you need to loosen up.”

I hesitate, my fingers brushing against the cup but not taking it.

“Just one drink won’t kill you,” Sophie says, nudging me with her elbow. “You need to live a little.”

I glance at her, hoping for some kind of support, but all I get is a shrug. “It’s just a party, Raven. Have some fun.”

The bass from the speakers thrummed through my chest, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat. I curled my fingers around the red cup Emelie handed me, the liquid sloshing against the plastic. My grip tightened as I stared at it, debating.

"Just one drink won’t kill you," Sophie said, nudging me with her elbow, her tone light but expectant.

I hesitated. I could already hear the taunts if I refused. The half-whispered remarks about how I never loosened up, how I was always such a downer. I could already feel the weight of their stares.

A shadow flickered at the edge of my vision. Someone standing near the doorway, watching. The feeling of being observed prickled along my skin, but when I turned, the figure shifted into the crowd.

“You need to live a little,” Sophie pushed again, her voice honeyed but firm. I could sense the frustration creeping in, the way her patience with me always ran thin when I didn’t play my part.

I swallowed hard and lifted the cup to my lips—

A hand closed around my wrist, firm but not forceful. The drink was plucked from my fingers before I could react.

“I think she’s good,” Aiden says, stepping in between us. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it. He hands the cup back to Emily, who raises an eyebrow.

“Who the hell are you?” she snaps.

“I’m a friend,” Aiden replies smoothly, his eyes locking with mine. “Come on, Raven, let’s get out of here.”

I hesitate, but something in his tone makes me trust him. Without looking back at Sophie or Emily, I follow him through the crowded house and out into the cool night air.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say quietly as we walk away.

“Yeah, I did,” Aiden replies, his voice softening. “You didn’t look like you belonged in there.”

I glance at him, his words sinking deeper than they should. But I don’t ask what he means by that. I’m not sure I want to know.