"I'm just fine, okay? I like being by myself, I want to be by myself, I have to clear my mind." she stated, speaking to her phone.
"B, come on, just one night." the speaker answered.
"I just want to be alone, cuddling, watch a good film and think." she replied.
"B, you're already overthinking, the past is past, please, let me help you get over it." the speaker said.
"I'm trying, and blind dating is not helping. Please. Please. It's not like it's the end of the world." she was begging, at her phone.
"It may be, I could die tonight, my head rolling on the street, my Louboutin covered in dark red stains" She was smiling now, a small smile "I could die; think about me, in a coffin, all alone."
"Stop it, you're not going to die." She laughed, a real laugh "I'll see you tomorrow, I'll bake you some brownies, deal?" She sounded hopeful
"Deal, but you have to make it up to me, Wednesday, seven o' clock, can't rain check, bye." she hanged up the call, stood up and started baking for her friend, she went to sleep at 11 pm whistling an old French song about love and travels.
She is woken up by her mother, strange is her first thought, what happened? Is the second.
"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, there was an accident, there's nothing we can do."
The rest of the conversation is just random words sinking in her head, words she doesn't want to listen.
She doesn't remember how, or when, or worst, who dressed her, she was a robot by the time her head had processed… death… accident… blood… flesh… scream…
She woke up inside the car, on her way to the hospital, and fell on her knees beside the hospital bed.
"Blair, do you want something? I'm going to the cafeteria… Blair…" she is shaken by hands that she can't recognise, kneeled she can't think only about death, death death death, and is that a flower? There's blood on golden locks, the jaw is broken, the nails are dirty; there's a stain of dry blood under the nose.
"When's the funeral?" She asks in a tiny voice, almost whispering.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"When is the funeral?" her voice louder, almost screaming.
"Honey, it's planned for tomorrow." her mother answered, sweetly.
I won't have enough time to say goodbye, you'll be gone, and I can't say goodbye. What will they do to you? Will you go down alone? Will you miss me there? Will there be something? Will you have time to think? Will you still exist there? Will you still exist? Will you?
Then she starts thinking about all the things she didn't tell, all the secrets she kept, they're all boiling in her mind, storming.
"He jumped on the first plane, it will take 19 hours to come here, I didn't want to tell him on the phone, I don't even know where to find the strength, but how do I tell him?"
There are no words to describe the pain, will they ever exist? Will the pain melt?
Her mother lights up some candles, they have no scents, wait, lavender.
Then the doctors come in and she doesn't feel herself again and just pass out and fall and cry and that's all.