Nine Days: Chapter 18
“I’m happy that you’re here with me, I’m sorry if I tear up”— death bed (coffee for your head) by Powfu, beabadoobee
Colin
“Dear Winter,
If I’m being honest, it’s quite the miracle that you’re getting a letter from me.
You’ve been my best friend ever since freshman year, which makes it a shame that it took me a good amount of time to find words to say.
You knew I wasn’t doing well. You heard me cry, scream when the pain got too much. But not once did you walk into my room to ask if I needed your comfort.
I sure as hell would have said no, but knowing you were there for me would have—”
“Lilybug, you can’t write that,” I say, interrupting Lily as she reads her letter to Winter out for me.
We’ve been on the road for twenty minutes and Lily is still figuring out what to write. I mean, from what I’ve witnesses, Winter cares more about herself than anyone around her. It’s truly a shame that Lily doesn’t know what to say to her so-called best friend.
I can’t blame her though.
“I don’t know what to tell her. All I’ve got is to tell her how much of a shitty friend she can be.”
“She’s been your best friend for years, there has to be something good about the time you’ve spent with her.” I stop at a red light, finally being able to properly look at my Lilybug, even if it’s just for a moment.
Lily shakes her head no. “Whenever Winter tries to listen to my complaints, she ends up down-grading me. You know those people saying ‘Oh, well, my hamster died this morning’ when you tell them someone close to you passed?”
“Not exactly with this example, but yes.”
“Winter is one of those.” Lily sighs. “She tells me to stop whining about feeling depressed because I ‘cry for no reason.’ She tells me to stop whining about how horrible I feel because there are people out there having it worse.”
“Alright.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to find words to say. “How about, instead of babbling all about friendship, you just thank her for being a great friend and then say something like ‘I just didn’t feel like breathing anymore, lol,’” I suggest, knowing it’s total bullshit.
At least it gets me a laugh from Lily. A cheerful, happy laughter that fills my ears like music.
“Might just throw in a few ‘lmao’s’ as well.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, let me try this again.”
Another good twenty minutes pass until Lily starts to read out what she’s written, again.
“Dear Winter,
Our friendship had been quite the amusement park, wouldn’t you agree?
I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend anything close to what you are.
You’re cheerful, kind, a literal party girl; always one the move.
You showed me that spending time all by myself—at all times—isn’t what life is all about.”
“Hold up,” I have to interject, “she showed you this? I’m pretty sure I did.”
“It’s all I could come up with, Colin.” She lets out a frustrated groan, falling back into the seat like she’s just been liquified.
“Alright. Proceed.”
“You dragged me out into the world, showed me that there is more to life than having my nose stuck in some textbooks.
Unfortunately, this life wasn’t for me.
I’m nothing like the party person you are, Winter.
I like being on my own.
I like spending time alone, be at home, cuddled up under my blanket while watching Legally Blonde for the hundredths time.
Sometimes I wish I could be more like you.
Carefree and always on the move. Jumping right into another adventure. Going out to clubs and start twerking at the next best guy I come across.
Though, if I’m being honest, I probably wouldn’t just start twerking at some random guy.
Let’s keep this a bit more realistic, okay?
I wish I could be more outgoing and happy like you are.
You always seem to know exactly how to suppress your madness, deal with grief and sorrow.
But sadly, that’s not me.
I can’t deal with the pain I’m confronted with. I can’t deal with the solitude, the isolation I force upon myself for the sake of others.
I withdraw myself from people so I wouldn’t annoy them with my awful feelings.
And it’s getting too much to take on.
It got too much, Winter.
I can’t do this anymore, which is why I took the precautions I did.
Taking my own life.
This has nothing to do with you, but everything to do with me and my feelings. I hope you understand that.
I’m just writing you this letter so you can hopefully find closure, knowing this isn’t about you.
Maybe we get to see each other in another life.
Until then, I wish the best for you.
I wish for you to become the greatest actress you’ve wanted to be for so long.
Lily”
“I mean, it’s definitely way better than your first attempt,” I tell her, offering a slight shrug.
“It’s awful,” she groans. “Most of this is a lie.”
“Well, but would you rather leave with telling her how much you despise her?”
“No.” Lily connects her phone to my car, allowing herself to put on some music. She doesn’t even ask if that’s okay with me. But let’s be real, I don’t care.
Lily could steal my car and drive it into the nearest lake, and I wouldn’t even get mad at her. Not because she’s already dealing with way too much, but because I think it’s almost incapable for Lily to do anything that would truly upset me to the point where I would be mad at her.
Those feelings scare me. It scares me that one person can make me feel so many different things all at once when I’ve spent the last years avoiding to feel at all.
Lily makes me happy without even trying to. Seeing her smile and hearing her laughter warms my chest in all the ways I refused to believe was possible, and I don’t know why.
But what scares me the most is the thought of her dying.
-♡–
“We’re staying here tonight, if that’s okay with you,” I say to Lily as we walk into my childhood bedroom. She stands in the middle of the room, looking around dumbstruck.
I know I’ve been living in luxury all my life—and I’m grateful I never had to worry about anything—but something about Lily’s stunned expression irks me. Not that I can blame her.
“Do we leave early enough so I can see my parents tomorrow?” She turns to me, the stunned expression drained from her face with nothing but Lily’s typical emptiness left.
She always looks at me like all the life has been sucked out of her. Like there is not a single spark left. But that only ever happens when we’re alone. Whenever we’re out in the open, with people surrounding us, Lily looks the happiest of fake happiness I have ever seen. But then, when she does have a great time, for instance when I took her to see the sunrise, honest euphoria takes over her.
It’s like a switch sometimes. A pretty confusing construct, but I’m here to figure her out. Here to find out what makes that switch turn until she gets to feel all the excitement in the world. What makes her feel more happiness than she could ever imagine.
“We’re leaving at eight,” I tell her. “You just need to tell me where your mother lives.”
Lily chuckles, falling down onto my bed. “Alright, Mr. Stinky.” Lily sits up, watching me as I walk over to my desk. I can feel her eyes on me, burning into my skin. “My dad comes first. I’m sure you know where he lives. My mother lives in Wesley Hills.”
“Can’t believe you have me chauffeuring your ass around the whole world.”
“It’s not the whole world,” she laughs. “And I can take the train, you know.”
“Lilybug, I’d rather sit days in a car to drive you wherever the hell you want to go than have you take the train.”
It’s not a lie. I will gladly be her chauffeur. Not only because that gives me more time with her, but also because public transport seems dangerous. All those strangers and creepy people. She could be groped at, or even worse. No thank you.