"Did you sleep well?" James charming smile is hard to say no to, but Idina doesn't want to lie anymore, about anything. She shrugs. She can't remember exactly what the nightmare was about, but she knows her sleep wasn't pleasant. She sits up and sees the movie is over.
"Wow. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep." Idina rubs the sleep from her eyes, wishing there was some equally simple way to clear the fog from her mind. She leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees, hands still covering her eyes.
"Why are you sorry? You must've been tired." James' voice seems a little too cheery, or at least to Idina it does. She figures it's just her being lost in her fog.
"I don't know. I just am." Already Idina wishes she could go back to bed. The day ahead just seems too much.
"Well, then stop it." James' voice carries a fine bite to it this time, tinting Idina's fog with dread and fear.
"I'm sorry?" Panic scrambles through her sluggish mind to think of what might have done to set James off.
"You're always apologizing for everything, no matter how many times I tell you there's no need to be sorry! It's like you're not even listening. All of the stuff we do to try and help you, and you don't even want to get better! I don't know why I even bother anymore." James' quietly explosive anger isn't any different than Taye's enraged yelling. Both hurt just as deep. Both make her want to run somewhere away, forever. Both leave her feeling worthless, reduced to a disappointing, worthless, despicable excuse for a human being. Now longer groggy with her face in her hands, Idina's mind races as she stares wide eyed at James. She sees the angry set of his mouth, the cold disappointment mixing with flaring anger in his eyes, the whiteness of his knuckles. Her vision fades as her mind overwhelms her. All of what James said and incinuated, things people said years ago, all of it rushes to the forefront of her mind, thoughts blocking her vision. But anything anyone has ever said doesn't hold a candle to what Idina has thought about herself. Self-hatred coarses through her as she quickly gathers her belongings to leave, James watching her in simmering rage. He follows her to the door.
"One last question: do you even like who you've become?" Idina raises her head to try and met James' eyes. She gets as far as the disappointed sneer, the hate-filled slant of the eyes, and drops her gaze hefore meeting his, imagining the hate, the disappointment, the resentment, the absolute loathing she fears she'd find there. She shakes her head, gathering the courage to speak.
"No." A hushed, barely audible whisper conveying shame and fear, worthlessness and weariness. The door slams with an agreed mutter. He agrees. Why should anyone like her. A despicable, self centered foil. He hates her. Never wants to see her again. Another person driven away by her own screwed up mess. Tears flood her vision for the first time since waking up. She wonders when, when will it ever stop, when will she ever learn. Isn't she broken enough? Each time she feels she can't break any further, it seems she figures out how wrong she is. She sets off down the hallway of the apartment building, wanting to take off sprinting and screaming but at the same time wanting to collapse into a huddle in the corner, never to move or do anything ever again. She finally makes it to the elevator, grateful for the deserted emptiness. Leaning against the wall, she struggles to keep it together. Oh what's the point. She sinks the the floor knees to her chest and head in her arms as her frail frame shakes with the wracking sobs of being weary, broken, and utterly alone.
