Daria's hands moved silently over the keyboard. She thought the soft click
of keys would sooth her mind-numbing headache, but it hadn't. She sighed,
turned off the computer and lay on her bed, thinking, pulling the comforter
over her head.
'It's funny how they call this a comforter,' she thought, 'because it's not exactly comforting me now.' She knew something that would comfort her.
The phone rang. Daria reluctantly stretched out a hand to answer it.
"What?" Daria answered, sounding thoroughly annoyed. There was no answer back; just silence. She slammed down the phone. It rang again. She picked it up.
"What?"
"What?" came the laid back voice on the phone.
"Trent?" Daria sat up. "What's up?"
"Nothing much. I have to ask you something. Can you meet me later?"
Daria contemplated this. Did she really want to go out with her ex-crush just after her and her long-time boyfriend had broken up?
"I don't know, Trent. What were you thinking?"
"Maybe pizza?"
Daria sighed. She hadn't been there in awhile. Bad memories. "Tonight at seven."
"Okay, see you."
"Bye."
Daria hung up the phone and grimaced. Had she actually just made a date with someone who was five years older than her? She didn't want to think about it. She pulled the comforter back over her head.
The chimes of seven o'clock had just rung and Daria slid out of bed. She knew she was late. She peered at her tiny figure for a long time in the mirror clad in her Mark Twain nightshirt, which hung off of her. She pulled it up and exposed her stomach, which was concave underneath her protruding ribs. She sighed and put on her regular outfit. Pulling on her boots, she noticed how tiny her calves now were. She walked down the stairs slowly and was out of breath by the time she got down. She regained her power and walked out the door and into her car.
Trent walked into Pizza King and sat down. He ordered a pepperoni pizza slice for each of them and set them down on the table. About a half-an-hour later, Daria walked in slowly. She had deep circles under her eyes and her hair was a mess. Trent looked in awe about the once happy—well, not happy but once not this depressed girl. She sat across from him and looked up. Her dark eyes, Trent noticed, lacked any glimmer they had once had. They were now so dead-looking.
"So what did you want to ask me?" Daria asked, looking deep into Trent's eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked, looking mortified.
"Is that what you wanted to ask me?"
"No."
"Oh. (Long pause) Yes, Trent, I'm fine. Now what did you want to ask me?"
Trent bit into his pizza and looked at Daria. She was staring at her pizza in disgust. It became evident to Trent that she wasn't going to eat it. He had raised Janey and seen that look many times before.
"Daria…"
Daria looked up at him. Those eyes were too much. She was wearing her contacts, he noticed.
"Daria, what the hell is wrong with you?"
Daria turned away. She pretended to be engrossed in an advertisement hanging over the window.
"Daria, talk to me."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Maybe I don't trust you."
Trent was taken aback. He thought Daria had considered him at least a friend.
"You don't trust me?"
"That's right, I don't."
Trent looked at her, confused. He thought he saw tears forming. He sighed.
"Why?"
"God dammit, Trent, do I need a reason for everything I do?"
"No, but-"
"Can you just tell me why you dragged me here?"
"I wanted to ask you something."
Daria looked exasperated. "Then what is it?"
"You just said you don't trust me. So why should I tell you?" Trent's voice started to sound angrier and less laid-back.
"I can't believe you."
"You can't believe me?"
"Yeah. You're a nothing Trent. You always will be. I'm going to Raft. I'm going to do something with my life. What the hell do you want from me?"
That hurt. "That's it, I'm out of here." He saw tears now free flowing, but couldn't bring himself to stay.
"No, Trent, don't go. Please. I'm sorry."
Trent walked out. Daria followed. Trent got in his car. Daria attempted to open the door, but it was locked. She tapped on the window, getting increasingly louder. Then she doubled over, out of breath.
"Daria? Daria!" Trent jumped out of the car and picked her up.
"I'm so sorry, Trent." Daria said through hoarse breaths.
"It's okay, everything is okay." He stroked her hair. It seemed so brittle. He put her in his car without even thinking. Then he drove slowly off.
"Daria, talk to me."
Tears were drying on her skin and she still cried, dry sobs. She looked over at Trent, still breathing heavily.
"Daria, why are you so out of breath?"
"I'm fine, Trent. Take me home, please."
"No."
"Why do you want to make this hard?"
"Because you are my friend, Daria."
They drove in silence for a while, except for Daria's shallow breathing and occasional sobs. They reached the abandoned quarry and sat on the hood of his car, looking at the stars.
"Daria, tell me what's wrong." He pleaded, one last time.
"Nothing is wrong, Trent."
Trent couldn't take it anymore. "No, Daria, Nothing is right."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you are not yourself anymore. I mean you have morphed into someone completely different and I have no idea where to begin. I've never known you to be mean to people, especially me. So let me rephrase the question, what the hell happened to you?"
"I hate you, I swear to god I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do! I promise I do!"
Trent got up and stood in front of her. "No, Daria. You're just trying for an out before I find out what's really wrong. If you think I'm gonna leave just like that, then you aren't as smart as you think you are."
"I hate you, Trent. I hate you." She started to get up, sat back down for a second, and got up again.
"Stop it, Daria, you don't need to do this."
"Yes I do." She stalked toward him.
"Daria, sit down, you're going to hurt yourself."
"Do you think I care?"
Daria now had a fiery glaze over her eyes, and she stood her ground as best as she could.
"Daria, what are you-"
"I hate you, Trent. I hate you so much." She charged at him, hitting his chest with her tiny fists. "This is all your fault, not mine. You take the blame. You did this. I didn't do anything. You did. Not me. You. This is your entire fault. I hate you."
Trent dodged her, and then realized that she wasn't stopping. He grabbed her hand just after she jumped off the cliff of the quarry. He held on to her hand, realizing how minuscule they now were. He pulled her up, fighting Daria's other flailing fist.
"Let me go! Let me go!" Daria screamed at him, still trying to wiggle out of his grasp.
The wind howled around him but Trent still struggled. He tugged with all his might. Daria fell limp. Trent grip tightened and he realized how abnormally easy it was to pull her body up. He cradled her in his arms.
"Help me, Trent. Don't let me die. I don't want to die."
"Don't talk, Daria, save your energy. You'll be fine."
"Thank you."
Trent put her in his car, unsure of what to do. He drove back to his house and carried her up to Jane's room. The note on her door said she was out for a run. Trent cursed his luck and put Daria on his bed. He covered her up with a few blankets, because her skin felt abnormally cold. Trent strummed his guitar a little and felt her cheek. He could see her cheekbone. He never could before. Her skin was still freezing. He got out his extra blankets and covered her up more. He listened to her shallow breathing and checked her pulse regularly. Her lips and nose were turning odd colors. He got Jane's bedspread and extra blankets out and layered them on too. Just when he thought she'd never get home, Jane opened his door.
"Trent, have you seen my- Oh god…Daria!"
"Janey, thank god. I don't know what to do. I've just been trying to keep her warm and comfortable. She doesn't want to die, Janey, she told me so. Please help us."
"All right, all right, look, you go get the car started. I'll carry her downstairs."
Trent nodded and left. Jane looked at her best friend.
"Daria, what the hell have you done?"
The emergency room doors burst open. Daria lay on a stretcher, still not concious. Trent and Jane watched it go into the ER and the doors shut behind her. Jane turned to her brother.
"Trent, what's going to happen?"
"I don't know, Janey." He put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. "We'll get through it, though. I know."
"Jane Lane?" A young doctor walked out and called.
"Yeah?" she answered.
"Please come in. Daria is asking for you."
"How is she?"
"She's concious. But the lab results aren't back yet…"
"She's concious?"
"Yes."
Jane nearly ran into the room. "Daria?" Then she gasped. Hooked up to Daria were a great number over wires.
"Jane…" Daria gasped.
"Shhh, don't talk."
"I'm…so…sorry…Jane…"
"No, Daria, it's all okay. I don't care about anything except you getting better. Please save your strength."
"Trent…where's…Trent?" Her eyes blinked slowly and she took a deep breath in.
"I can go get him."
"Don't…leave…me…Jane…"
"I'll be right back, Daria." Jane called Trent in.
"Trent…where…are…you…"
"I'm right here, Daria." He sat on a chair next to her bed, taking a tube and wire covered hand in his.
"Trent…I…don't…hate…you…"
"I know, Daria. It's okay, I know."
Daria fell back asleep. After a few minutes, the doctor came in. "I have the lab results. Daria is suffering from severe malnutrition. It is not anorexia or bulimia; we have already ruled those out. Tell me, has Daria had any great stresses or traumas in the past month?"
"She broke up with her boyfriend of over a year a little while back, and she got rejected from a college because she had a shaky interview." Jane answered.
"I see. Well, we need her to get some food. Tell me, did you notice anything odd about her appearance or exercising?"
Jane said no just as Trent said yes.
"Trent?" The doctor urged him.
"Well, for one thing, she's tiny. She has dark circles under her eyes. She's very moody. She has difficulty exerting herself physically, even the smallest tasks, like tapping on my car window."
"What happened then?" The doctor asked.
"She doubled over out of breath. She also seemed sort of suicidal. But that's all I know."
"I see. Hmm. Well then. Let me check a few things." The doctor increased her IV dosage and left. Jane bent over Daria's bed at all the tubes. It would've made for a great painting.
"Janey…"
"Huh?"
"Don't beat yourself up over this. I don't think you would've known. I don't think anyone would've known."
"Look at her Trent. How come I didn't see this?"
Jane stamped her foot as a single tear came down her cheek. Trent looked up at her, sadly.
"Janey, you're the best thing that happened to Daria, and vice versa. Don't beat yourself up."
"I just want her to be okay."
"I do too."
Jane and Trent talked quietly for an hour or so when Daria woke up. She blinked her sunken eyes slowly.
"Jane? Trent?" Daria called.
"Daria…thank god." Jane rushed to Daria's hospital bed.
"How are you feeling?" Trent asked.
"Better…I'm…I'm so…sorry…" Daria said, looking up at them.
"Daria, why did you do this to yourself?" Jane asked.
Daria looked as if something had just slapped her. Her eyes grew large and she shivered.
"I…can't…go through…it…again."
"Please, Daria." Jane pleaded.
"I'll…help you…but I can't…I can't tell you…Get my…book bag."
"It's right here." Trent offered.
"Find the…white envelope…in the black…folder. Read…it." Daria said these last words as she fell asleep.
Jane unfolded the paper in the white envelope.
"Dear Daria Morgendorffer…blah blah blah…you've been accepted into Bromwell's class of 2006. Due to an unfortunate loss of a fine student, you will be allowed to attend Bromwell. See you in Fall 2005!" Jane read. "I don't get it."
"Wait, there's something else in here." Trent said.
"Looks like it's a funeral flyer. Why did Daria have one of those?"
"It's Tom's. Tom's funeral."
'It's funny how they call this a comforter,' she thought, 'because it's not exactly comforting me now.' She knew something that would comfort her.
The phone rang. Daria reluctantly stretched out a hand to answer it.
"What?" Daria answered, sounding thoroughly annoyed. There was no answer back; just silence. She slammed down the phone. It rang again. She picked it up.
"What?"
"What?" came the laid back voice on the phone.
"Trent?" Daria sat up. "What's up?"
"Nothing much. I have to ask you something. Can you meet me later?"
Daria contemplated this. Did she really want to go out with her ex-crush just after her and her long-time boyfriend had broken up?
"I don't know, Trent. What were you thinking?"
"Maybe pizza?"
Daria sighed. She hadn't been there in awhile. Bad memories. "Tonight at seven."
"Okay, see you."
"Bye."
Daria hung up the phone and grimaced. Had she actually just made a date with someone who was five years older than her? She didn't want to think about it. She pulled the comforter back over her head.
The chimes of seven o'clock had just rung and Daria slid out of bed. She knew she was late. She peered at her tiny figure for a long time in the mirror clad in her Mark Twain nightshirt, which hung off of her. She pulled it up and exposed her stomach, which was concave underneath her protruding ribs. She sighed and put on her regular outfit. Pulling on her boots, she noticed how tiny her calves now were. She walked down the stairs slowly and was out of breath by the time she got down. She regained her power and walked out the door and into her car.
Trent walked into Pizza King and sat down. He ordered a pepperoni pizza slice for each of them and set them down on the table. About a half-an-hour later, Daria walked in slowly. She had deep circles under her eyes and her hair was a mess. Trent looked in awe about the once happy—well, not happy but once not this depressed girl. She sat across from him and looked up. Her dark eyes, Trent noticed, lacked any glimmer they had once had. They were now so dead-looking.
"So what did you want to ask me?" Daria asked, looking deep into Trent's eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked, looking mortified.
"Is that what you wanted to ask me?"
"No."
"Oh. (Long pause) Yes, Trent, I'm fine. Now what did you want to ask me?"
Trent bit into his pizza and looked at Daria. She was staring at her pizza in disgust. It became evident to Trent that she wasn't going to eat it. He had raised Janey and seen that look many times before.
"Daria…"
Daria looked up at him. Those eyes were too much. She was wearing her contacts, he noticed.
"Daria, what the hell is wrong with you?"
Daria turned away. She pretended to be engrossed in an advertisement hanging over the window.
"Daria, talk to me."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Maybe I don't trust you."
Trent was taken aback. He thought Daria had considered him at least a friend.
"You don't trust me?"
"That's right, I don't."
Trent looked at her, confused. He thought he saw tears forming. He sighed.
"Why?"
"God dammit, Trent, do I need a reason for everything I do?"
"No, but-"
"Can you just tell me why you dragged me here?"
"I wanted to ask you something."
Daria looked exasperated. "Then what is it?"
"You just said you don't trust me. So why should I tell you?" Trent's voice started to sound angrier and less laid-back.
"I can't believe you."
"You can't believe me?"
"Yeah. You're a nothing Trent. You always will be. I'm going to Raft. I'm going to do something with my life. What the hell do you want from me?"
That hurt. "That's it, I'm out of here." He saw tears now free flowing, but couldn't bring himself to stay.
"No, Trent, don't go. Please. I'm sorry."
Trent walked out. Daria followed. Trent got in his car. Daria attempted to open the door, but it was locked. She tapped on the window, getting increasingly louder. Then she doubled over, out of breath.
"Daria? Daria!" Trent jumped out of the car and picked her up.
"I'm so sorry, Trent." Daria said through hoarse breaths.
"It's okay, everything is okay." He stroked her hair. It seemed so brittle. He put her in his car without even thinking. Then he drove slowly off.
"Daria, talk to me."
Tears were drying on her skin and she still cried, dry sobs. She looked over at Trent, still breathing heavily.
"Daria, why are you so out of breath?"
"I'm fine, Trent. Take me home, please."
"No."
"Why do you want to make this hard?"
"Because you are my friend, Daria."
They drove in silence for a while, except for Daria's shallow breathing and occasional sobs. They reached the abandoned quarry and sat on the hood of his car, looking at the stars.
"Daria, tell me what's wrong." He pleaded, one last time.
"Nothing is wrong, Trent."
Trent couldn't take it anymore. "No, Daria, Nothing is right."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you are not yourself anymore. I mean you have morphed into someone completely different and I have no idea where to begin. I've never known you to be mean to people, especially me. So let me rephrase the question, what the hell happened to you?"
"I hate you, I swear to god I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do! I promise I do!"
Trent got up and stood in front of her. "No, Daria. You're just trying for an out before I find out what's really wrong. If you think I'm gonna leave just like that, then you aren't as smart as you think you are."
"I hate you, Trent. I hate you." She started to get up, sat back down for a second, and got up again.
"Stop it, Daria, you don't need to do this."
"Yes I do." She stalked toward him.
"Daria, sit down, you're going to hurt yourself."
"Do you think I care?"
Daria now had a fiery glaze over her eyes, and she stood her ground as best as she could.
"Daria, what are you-"
"I hate you, Trent. I hate you so much." She charged at him, hitting his chest with her tiny fists. "This is all your fault, not mine. You take the blame. You did this. I didn't do anything. You did. Not me. You. This is your entire fault. I hate you."
Trent dodged her, and then realized that she wasn't stopping. He grabbed her hand just after she jumped off the cliff of the quarry. He held on to her hand, realizing how minuscule they now were. He pulled her up, fighting Daria's other flailing fist.
"Let me go! Let me go!" Daria screamed at him, still trying to wiggle out of his grasp.
The wind howled around him but Trent still struggled. He tugged with all his might. Daria fell limp. Trent grip tightened and he realized how abnormally easy it was to pull her body up. He cradled her in his arms.
"Help me, Trent. Don't let me die. I don't want to die."
"Don't talk, Daria, save your energy. You'll be fine."
"Thank you."
Trent put her in his car, unsure of what to do. He drove back to his house and carried her up to Jane's room. The note on her door said she was out for a run. Trent cursed his luck and put Daria on his bed. He covered her up with a few blankets, because her skin felt abnormally cold. Trent strummed his guitar a little and felt her cheek. He could see her cheekbone. He never could before. Her skin was still freezing. He got out his extra blankets and covered her up more. He listened to her shallow breathing and checked her pulse regularly. Her lips and nose were turning odd colors. He got Jane's bedspread and extra blankets out and layered them on too. Just when he thought she'd never get home, Jane opened his door.
"Trent, have you seen my- Oh god…Daria!"
"Janey, thank god. I don't know what to do. I've just been trying to keep her warm and comfortable. She doesn't want to die, Janey, she told me so. Please help us."
"All right, all right, look, you go get the car started. I'll carry her downstairs."
Trent nodded and left. Jane looked at her best friend.
"Daria, what the hell have you done?"
The emergency room doors burst open. Daria lay on a stretcher, still not concious. Trent and Jane watched it go into the ER and the doors shut behind her. Jane turned to her brother.
"Trent, what's going to happen?"
"I don't know, Janey." He put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. "We'll get through it, though. I know."
"Jane Lane?" A young doctor walked out and called.
"Yeah?" she answered.
"Please come in. Daria is asking for you."
"How is she?"
"She's concious. But the lab results aren't back yet…"
"She's concious?"
"Yes."
Jane nearly ran into the room. "Daria?" Then she gasped. Hooked up to Daria were a great number over wires.
"Jane…" Daria gasped.
"Shhh, don't talk."
"I'm…so…sorry…Jane…"
"No, Daria, it's all okay. I don't care about anything except you getting better. Please save your strength."
"Trent…where's…Trent?" Her eyes blinked slowly and she took a deep breath in.
"I can go get him."
"Don't…leave…me…Jane…"
"I'll be right back, Daria." Jane called Trent in.
"Trent…where…are…you…"
"I'm right here, Daria." He sat on a chair next to her bed, taking a tube and wire covered hand in his.
"Trent…I…don't…hate…you…"
"I know, Daria. It's okay, I know."
Daria fell back asleep. After a few minutes, the doctor came in. "I have the lab results. Daria is suffering from severe malnutrition. It is not anorexia or bulimia; we have already ruled those out. Tell me, has Daria had any great stresses or traumas in the past month?"
"She broke up with her boyfriend of over a year a little while back, and she got rejected from a college because she had a shaky interview." Jane answered.
"I see. Well, we need her to get some food. Tell me, did you notice anything odd about her appearance or exercising?"
Jane said no just as Trent said yes.
"Trent?" The doctor urged him.
"Well, for one thing, she's tiny. She has dark circles under her eyes. She's very moody. She has difficulty exerting herself physically, even the smallest tasks, like tapping on my car window."
"What happened then?" The doctor asked.
"She doubled over out of breath. She also seemed sort of suicidal. But that's all I know."
"I see. Hmm. Well then. Let me check a few things." The doctor increased her IV dosage and left. Jane bent over Daria's bed at all the tubes. It would've made for a great painting.
"Janey…"
"Huh?"
"Don't beat yourself up over this. I don't think you would've known. I don't think anyone would've known."
"Look at her Trent. How come I didn't see this?"
Jane stamped her foot as a single tear came down her cheek. Trent looked up at her, sadly.
"Janey, you're the best thing that happened to Daria, and vice versa. Don't beat yourself up."
"I just want her to be okay."
"I do too."
Jane and Trent talked quietly for an hour or so when Daria woke up. She blinked her sunken eyes slowly.
"Jane? Trent?" Daria called.
"Daria…thank god." Jane rushed to Daria's hospital bed.
"How are you feeling?" Trent asked.
"Better…I'm…I'm so…sorry…" Daria said, looking up at them.
"Daria, why did you do this to yourself?" Jane asked.
Daria looked as if something had just slapped her. Her eyes grew large and she shivered.
"I…can't…go through…it…again."
"Please, Daria." Jane pleaded.
"I'll…help you…but I can't…I can't tell you…Get my…book bag."
"It's right here." Trent offered.
"Find the…white envelope…in the black…folder. Read…it." Daria said these last words as she fell asleep.
Jane unfolded the paper in the white envelope.
"Dear Daria Morgendorffer…blah blah blah…you've been accepted into Bromwell's class of 2006. Due to an unfortunate loss of a fine student, you will be allowed to attend Bromwell. See you in Fall 2005!" Jane read. "I don't get it."
"Wait, there's something else in here." Trent said.
"Looks like it's a funeral flyer. Why did Daria have one of those?"
"It's Tom's. Tom's funeral."