I know you’re upset, pings her phone

She sits in the corner of her room with the dim light of the phone lighting the bottom half of her face. Making no move to answer the message, she rubs at her eyes gently and contemplates going to sleep. 

I was upset yesterday, I was upset today and I’ll be upset tomorrow, she thinks. Might as well get on with it. 

She flips through a poetry book and tries to imitate the image of what melancholy and academic should look like because she has always found dramatics essential to her existence. 

Suddenly exasperated, she unconsciously dials a number. The recipient of the call picks up after three rings. She does not wait for hellos; she launches into a stream immediately.

“It was so bad. The exam didn’t go well and I know you think I give up very easily and that I don’t work hard enough but I try so much and I miss my home and I need mumma but I wish she was someone else and I don’t know and-”, her voice cracks open and it is left raw, like a gaping wound. Her pain is laced with a year’s madness and a humbling loneliness. 

“It’ll be ok”, is the only response she gets. 

Her wound is salted, her heart shrinks two sizes and her words come out in a whisper. 

“Mmhmm. It’ll be ok. Thank you.” 

The recipient hangs up the phone and she retreats to her bed. The hurt soon ebbs and she dreams of home, of light and of chocolate covered strawberries. 

We’re going on a trip in a little rocket ship….

She grins at the memory of the broken jungle gym, of the boys who told her she wasn’t beautiful or intelligent, and of the baby on sixth street whose hands had held her fingers as though they were holding on to life. 

I hope you’re happy forever, she whispers to no one in particular. Outside, the wind howls. The Jacaranda tree sways. The twin cats Hir and Iyla huddle together for warmth. 

The world stays the same, and as the sun rises, her newly grown layer of frost melts and she glows. Today will be better.

…………………….