CHAPTER ONE
Wednesday
August 27, 2014
3:16p.m.
The cold came this morning, settling around everything and making it so my outfit for the first day of school consisted of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt with a light jacket. My mom even forced me to wear gloves, though I pulled those off as soon as I left the house. It may be cold, but it’s not that cold. The school day went fine, I suppose. The stomach flu is going around, already, and both of my friends were home sick. That made the day slightly depressing. But at least the teachers are nice. My biology teacher—
3:23 p.m.
Black.
7:23 p.m.
What. The. Heck.
I look at my watch, and note that hours have passed. I had just…blacked out? Yet, here I am, eating dinner. I choke when I realize there’s food in my mouth.
“You okay, Rhosyn?” my mom stares at me, looking concerned, with slight panic in her eyes.
I swallow, my eyes watering, and follow the bite of roll I had in my mouth with some milk. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie, convincingly enough, apparently, because my mom nods and starts talking with my dad.
What the heck happened? I was walking home from school, and then… it was just black and my mind was blank. Yet here I am, calmly eating dinner.
“Have you done your homework Rhos?” my dad asks, shoveling a bite of beets into his mouth.
I watch him chew as I try to think, but I come up with nothing. “Um… I have a chemistry test tomorrow.”
“You take chemistry?” My dad tilts his head to the side, reminding me of our dog, who is now dead.
“Sorry, I meant biology,” I say. Crap. I should know that much. It’s not like I’ve blacked out for years. Wait… “Umm, what’s the date?”
My mom looks at me strangely, which I guess is understandable. “August 27. The first day of school…”
“Oh, thank god,” I sigh.
“Are you sure that you’re okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just fine. May I be excused? I have to… study for that test.”
She nods and I rush out of the room in hurry before my parents decide that I should be tested for drugs.
CHAPTER TWO
Thursday
August 28, 2014
1:22 p.m.
“And the capital of Nebraska is…” the teacher drones on.
“Lincoln,” the class answers in a robotic, lifeless, flat tone that reminds me much of brain-dead zombies.
“And the capital of Wisconsin is…”
“Madison.”
“And the capital of—”
1:23 p.m.
Black.
8:23 a.m.
Crap crap crap. Nineteen hours have passed. Nineteen! And I’m in a… bar? My parents are going to kill me, I groan softly.
“You okay?” a male’s voice says, a few feet away from me.
I look towards his voice. A man is crouching down by where I’m laying—under several stacks of chairs. His hair is dark, matching his skin and concerned-looking eyes. He has a bit of facial hair sprinkled across his chin, and he looks to be only a couple years older than me—sixteen or so.
“Yeah…I’m fine…”
“You look very out of it.”
“Um, well… What’s the date?” I have to make sure it’s 8:23 a.m. on August 29, 2014, not some other day.
“August 29,” he replies casually. “When’s your birthday?” he asks, not changing his tone of voice the slightest bit.
“Uh, May 23.”
A frown crosses his face. “And one of your eyes is hazel, and the other is both green and brown,” he states while peering into them closely.
I nod.
He backs up a bit. “Have you been blacking out lately?”
My heart skips a beat, quite literally. I can hear it pounding, the whole hollow frame of my body quivering with it. “W-what do you m-m-mean?” I stutter.
“You’ve been losing time.”
“How do you…?”
He looks at me sadly. “I’m Hudson. If you come with me, I can explain this all to you.”
Hudson begins to reach for my arm, and I jerk away, scrambling to my feet. “No! Get away from me! Nothing’s happened to me! I’m fine.”
And with that, I run out of the bar, though I do hear him yelling behind me: “You’re going to get hurt if you don’t come back. You’ll hurt yourself when you black out again.” His voice fades as I run faster, but the words repeat themselves in my head like a mantra.
CHAPTER THREE
Thursday
September 25, 2014
9:15 p.m.
Over a month has passed and I haven’t had another ‘episode’, as I like to call it. I’m still on edge, though. I don’t want to totally black out again. It’s not exactly my idea of fun. Oh, well. I guess it’s not like I’ll be able to stop if it happens again. And if there is any way I can stop it, I don’t know how, so I suppose I should just stop worrying about it. But I can’t, and I don’t know how long it will take before I’ll just forget about it and move on. Hopefully I move on soon, because I’m living on four or so hours of sleep per night. *Sigh* Well, I guess I should try to get to bed now anyways, considering it will take me a few hours to get to sleep.
I lay down on my quilt, not bothering to get under the covers, close my eyes, and pray that sleep will come for me soon.
9:23 p.m.
Black.
6:23 a.m.
Wow, I slept well. And I woke up on time, too, even though I didn’t remember to set my alarm clock last night. That’s fortunate.
I get up out of bed and begin to dress and get ready for the day. I notice my jeans are a little loose on me, like I’ve lost some weight. My shirts are the same way. I don’t think too hard about it as I head downstairs to get some breakfast.
“Good morning, mom. Dad,” I nod at them both as I grab a breakfast bar, yogurt, and some milk and begin to eat.
Both of them stare at me as if I’m eating live bugs or something, with their gaping mouths and wide, shocked eyes.
“What?” I question finally, after I’ve devoured my breakfast bar and banana, and downed my milk. Why am I so hungry?
My dad opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and then finally exclaims: “You’re eating!”
I laugh lightheartedly. “Yep. I’m eating. And I think I’m going to eat some cereal, too. I’m starving.”
“Rhosyn, honey, you haven’t eaten for months, we’re just surprised. You were so resistant. What changed?” my mom asks in a sickly sweet voice I’ve never ever heard her use.
Wait. Did she say months? “What’s the date?”
“December 7, sweetie,” my mom murmurs, her eyes sad. “The last time you ate willingly was September 25.”
“What happened to your arms?!” my dad demands suddenly.
I look down to see them covered in an array of black, blue, yellow, and purple bruises.
Oh, god help me.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sunday
December 7, 2014
6:41 a.m.
“I don’t know where they’re from,” I state dully.
“How can you not know?!” my dad growls at me.
Like, literally growls.
“I-I—”
A light seems to go off in his head as realization spreads over his face, and his eyes widen in horror. “It’s that boy!”
I don’t say anything, because I have no idea who he’s talking about.
“It is!” he exclaims, probably guessing by silence that I wasn’t denying it.
“Dad, it’s not—” I start, but I stop myself. If I’ve been hanging out with someone who’s been hitting me, I should probably cut that relationship loose.
My dad raises his left eyebrow at me, waiting for me to continue.
I don’t.
“Well, you can continue to eat then. We’ll talk about your boyfriend later,” he says, leaving me with my mom.
A long moment of silence passes before she offers: “Would you like me to make you anything for breakfast?”
“Pancakes! And eggs! Oh, and sausage!” I pause. “If you don’t mind.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Of course I don’t, honey!” She spins around and begins to make breakfast.
I simply stand there, trying not to break down sobbing. I was in an “episode” for months? What’s next, years? I wonder if my appearance has changed any…
“I’ll be right back,” I mumble, then rush upstairs to my bathroom.
My eyes have dark circles underneath, and my face is white. My caramel-colored hair is hanging limp around my incredibly bony shoulders. I look…dead. Though my eyes seem to have life in them. I stare at myself, at my hair, at my eyes. My right eye is a dark hazel, similar to caramel, and my left eye is half light green and half dark brown. It sorta looks like mud. Or perhaps vomit.
“Breakfast!”my mom shouts up the stairs. “Coming,” I call back, faintly so, as I look away from my reflection.
