Sadness. It’s wrapped around me like a cloak. I can’t shake it off. Every time I try and do something that may better my mood, the cloak pulls me down, drowning me. Days. It’s been days since I managed to get off the couch. The TV isn’t on. My phone died a week ago. The charger is on the desk. Maybe I should go get it. Meh. Who would want to talk to me anyway. My stomach growls in protest. It wants food, but my mind isn’t hungry. Maybe some water and crackers. That’s easy. No cooking or thought really. I pull myself up off the couch and shuffle to the kitchen. It’s dark in here, but I don’t want lights. I can’t bear the brightness they try and throw at me. I can find my way in the darkness. It is my best companion these days.

The water shocks me. It’s really cold! An instant headache sets in. My stomach rebels on me. I almost don’t keep it down. It’s hard to catch my breath. I stand at the counter for a while. Hands on the side of the sink. Waiting until my breathing is normal again and my stomach is settled down. Okay. I can move. I grab the last pack of crackers off the counter and my water glass and head back to the couch. That was torture. Absolute torture. This is why I don’t leave the couch. Bad things happen when I leave the couch.

I am not sure how long it has been since I ate those crackers. Hours? Days? My stomach is protesting again. The water glass is long empty. Have I moved? I really don’t know. My head is pounding. Wait. That’s not in my head. That is somewhere else. The door? Who would be here? I ignore the pounding. There is some shouting too, but I ignore that just as easily. Laying back into the couch cushion again, I close my eyes and imagine the darkness swallowing me whole. It’s the only peace I feel. The darkness.

Loud. Loud noises everywhere! And bright! What the hell?! Calm. Calm yourself. Okay. Breathing normal again. I open my eyes slowly and adjust to the bright light around me. I am clearly in a hospital room. There is an IV set up on the back of my hand. Probably fluids. How long have I been here? There is a little white board on the wall. The date is May 12, my name is Sarah, my nurse is Ashley. Wait. May 12? It can’t be May 12. It was just February. Horrible February. The 14th. Worst day of my life. The day he left me behind. For HER. How is it May 12. How did I lose three months? At least, I think it’s three months, and not one year and three months.

There is a figure in the doorway, looking at me. Talking to me. I have no idea what she just said. Something about cleaning the room. Yes. That is it. Janitorial staff. She starts wiping down the surfaces all around me. When she gets to the chair, I realize there is someone sitting in it. Mom is sleeping in the chair. Damn it. I wonder who called her. She lives way too far away to be here. She shouldn’t bother with me. No one Edie does.

Another person appears at the end of the bed. I blink at him. I feel like he wants me to say something. I don’t feel like saying anything. I don’t feel like anything anymore. He smiles. He knows I don’t care. He can see it in my eyes.

“Hello Sarah. Nice to see you awake. Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital.”

“Do you know which one?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not. You have been here for three days already. Your Mother was worried about you. She called the police for a wellness check. They found you unconscious in your apartment.”

“Lucky them.”

“Lucky you. You were severely dehydrated and malnourished. You would not have made it much longer. I plan on keeping a close eye on you for the next few days. Get your health back up. Dahlia will be along this afternoon. She will talk more about your options for going home then.”

“Thank you, I guess.”

He smiled at me. “You are very welcome.”

It took three days for my physical body to feel okay. Once my body was no longer thirsty or hungry, my mind started to be a bit brighter. Things were not as hard to focus on. My talks with Dahlia went better. Mom had my whole apartment cleaned and was so happy I would be going home soon. She was going to stay with me for a little while. Make sure I did not have a relapse of the darkness. I must admit, I was feeling better. A bit more human. I wanted to go home. I felt like I could be okay at home. Dahlia suggested a few things to help me make permanent changes in my life. Small things, that would help me get through. Mom was excited to try one in particular. She could not wait for me to be released.

Another three days passed. Dahlia and the medical doctor both said I could go home, with Mom to help me adjust. That was good news. I was ready for my home. My own walls, and a door. I missed the door people would have to knock on to come see me. Not just wander in. I knew Mom was going to be a bit frustrating. Not because she was trying to be, but just because I liked my own space. She couldn’t stay full time in my hospital room, but she could stay full time in my house. There had not been anyone else in my house since he left. This was going to be hard, but I felt I was ready.

Mom swung the door open to my apartment with some extra strength. It banged hard on the wall. “Oops!” I shook my head. I could feel the panic slowly creeping over me. No. Stop. Breathe. Just breathe. Okay. In the door I went. I forgot my walls were pale green. Kind of pretty really. The fresh flowers on the table smelled wonderful. There were so many flowers! Work, friends, family. I had forgotten there were so many people in my life. Judging by the cards and flowers, people that cared about me too. I found my comfy spot on the couch. Mom brought me a cup of tea, that she almost dropped on the way. Something was up.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing!”

“Then why are you so weird?”

Smiles, “I have something for you.” She disappears into my bedroom for a moment. When she comes out, she is carrying the tiniest little black kitten. It is so cute. I feel like I could scream. I have never held anything this cute before.

“How?”

“Dahlia said it would be good to have something to take care of.”

“I thought she meant a fish! Something that wouldn’t be quite so hard to keep alive.”

“I wanted to make sure it would be something you would care about.”

I held the little ball of fluff up close to my face. “Darkness. I will call you Darkness. You are my replacement for the dark, the sad, and I am so happy. Thank you, Mom. Thank you.”