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Lena sat on the couch, staring at nothing.
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The TV was off. The lights were dim. The only sound was the slow tick of the cheap clock on the wall.
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She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. It smelled stale..she hadn’t washed it in weeks.
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Outside, traffic hissed on wet pavement. Car horns blared, people shouted, the city moved like it didn’t care she existed.
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She hadn’t left the apartment in two days.
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Empty mugs cluttered the coffee table. Cold takeout cartons stacked near the door. She told herself she’d clean it all up tomorrow. She’d been telling herself that for a week.
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Her phone buzzed on the cushion next to her.
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Marcus.
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She watched it vibrate silently until it went still.
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Then it lit up again.
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Marcus (2 missed calls)
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Lena closed her eyes. The fatigue wasn’t physical. It was in her bones, in her chest. Like a lead weight pressing her down.
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She felt tears sting behind her eyes but didn’t bother wiping them.
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She let one fall. Then another.
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But she didn’t sob. She didn’t make a sound.
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Crying quietly was something she was good at.
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Her phone buzzed again. This time a text.
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Pick up. Please.
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She didn’t.
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She let the screen go dark.
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The apartment felt huge and empty.
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She curled up tighter, pulling the blanket over her head.
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If she was lucky, maybe she could sleep for a while.
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Forget she was here at all.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
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This is a fictional story, but the feelings are real for many people. If you’re struggling, please reach out to someone you trust. You don’t have to do it alone. 💛
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