Missing Page by Eden McGuire

Author:Eden McGuire [McGuire, Eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

18

Lennon would remain a prisoner to her own mind for days and nights to come, ridden with heartbreak and grief. She kept her phone close on her nightstand, selfishly hoping Hart would call so that she could take everything back. He never did. She couldn’t go in public either, without risking an encounter with Trick; she wanted to at least wait until her knuckles had healed more. Her parents had enough to take care of without tending to her self-induced illness. All of this, along with the fact that it was the night before her sister’s funeral, had concocted into a terrible bout of depression.

Burying herself beneath her blankets had started off comfy. Besides the tightening of her bladder and the stench of sweat permeating in the bubble she’d created, she didn’t have to think about anything else. Staying still helped, but it weakened her; it had been eight hours since she mustered enough energy to sit on the toilet. The slightest movement angered her insides all over again, but she’d been doing well the past ninety-six minutes.

The nightstand suddenly rattled outside her bubble, interrupting her mindless stare. She hadn’t even realized her eyes were open. Lennon reached out instinctively, already smiling at the idea of Hart’s voice crackling through the speakers.

A white-hot pain seared her gut, throwing a tantrum over the sudden move. There was no escaping her body—as much as she wanted him, she couldn’t evade herself any longer. Lennon scrambled for the door, wincing as she sat down on the toilet. Her muscles felt hard, calcified after days of idleness. Every part of living had become painful for her; even breaths came labored, exhausted under the load of its maker.

It took thirty-six seconds for the stream to slow into a trickle. She’d had time to blink herself awake and notice the dark sky outside her window; there was just enough light from the waning moon to illuminate droplets on the tile leading to the toilet, evidence of Lennon’s failing body. Before, it would have been second nature to hop in the shower, take five quick minutes to rinse off. But now the thought alone made her muscles quiver with exhaustion.

Lennon sighed, dropping her head into her hands. Her numbness took too much space to make room for shame or embarrassment. Surviving was ugly.

The nightstand buzzed with a second call, reminding her of what had started all of this. She hobbled towards the sound, peering down in confusion. The first missed call was from an unknown number—not Hart. To her surprise, Conrad’s was the one currently displayed in big white letters. Her finger tapped the speaker button and then stretched above her head, encouraging the stagnant blood to move faster through her protesting limbs.

“Lennon, can you hear me?” Conrad yelled over thumping music. She furrowed her brows, dropping her arms at his tone.

“Yeah,” she rasped, clutching her throat. When was the last time she’d drank water?

“I think you and your dad should come here, like…now. Cash is here…she’s not doing well–”

Lennon lifted the phone to her ear, sure she’d heard wrong.

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