written by Lena
...
** strong trigger warning: death and depression **
"the cold never bothered me anyway"
Riley Matthews struggled to breathe, her lungs burned at the effort. The more she tried to breathe, the harder it was, and the more she needed it. Nowadays, she couldn't remember a time when her body wasn't in constant pain. When her spine didn't feel like thousands of stabbing needles were constantly pricking each nerve along her back, when her neck didn't feel like it was supporting a load of bricks. When her breath didn't catch every time she even thought about moving her arms or when her heart didn't hurt at the memory of her past. In fact, the only parts of herself that didn't sting were her legs. Those were numb, in fact more than numb. They felt empty. As in, Riley could not feel them. Sometimes, on days like today, that was a small respite. But sometimes...most times...she wished that emptiness would go away. That the empty feeling would be filled. Whatever pain or emotion she did feel was a reminder that she was still living. Still breathing. Still human. She would cry, but her body was dehydrated. She stared out the window. The people below mocked her. She watched as couples walked by hand-in-hand. As children went running. She watched cars race by and people carrying shopping bags and stacks of boxes. All of them continuing about, as if there wasn't a young girl suffering above. And to them, to those people below, there wasn't. That girl no one saw, was one that no amount of presents or candy canes or hot chocolate - items that typically accompanied this time of year - could help cure. There was only themselves and their friends and their family. Riley pushed the resentment for the people from her mind. They didn't know. How could they? Riley was insignificant. She wasn't a celebrity, or a billionaire, or whatever it was that would have called attention to herself. No, she was just the girl who had everything one day, and lost it the very next. She couldn't handle thinking about her past because it always led her to the present. It always led her back to the permanent feeling of resentment and anger and emptiness for what she had become.
Outside that window, sat another girl, equally broken. Maya Hart sat, her back against the rough bricks, the cold air nearly freezing the tears on her cheeks. She wanted to, with her whole heart and soul, to open the window, to climb inside the bedroom, and to hear Riley's voice. To hold Riley close. To remind Riley how much she matters. Maya needed to and yet, she used every fiber of her being to resist the temptation. No matter how much she needed to see her best friend, she knew it wouldn't be what she pictured. She knew it would only end in tears. Maya lost her best friend and a piece of her heart the day Riley lost herself. The sunshine was gone, and in its place was a cold-hearted shell who looked through Maya every time she had visited. After the accident, Maya became invisible, Riley saw only the pain and sadness in the stories Maya told. Over the course of a few months, Riley had pushed Maya further away, putting up several walls and no matter what Maya did, she couldn't seem to find a way in. In fact, Riley's walls seemed to strengthen at each of Maya's attempts to chip away the emotions of anger Riley felt. The last straw for Maya was when Riley screamed at her to get out. When Riley denounced her and told her to stop pretending that they were family. To stop acting like everything was fine. Riley used every last bit of energy to push Maya over the edge and she was successful. She left Maya broken.
Riley's mind wandered to Maya. She knew it had to be this way. She hated when Maya visited. She hated when Maya brought up their life before the accident. Riley would never be happy again. Not when even a smile brought a sting of pain across her face and a painful headache at the base of her skull. No. Riley could never be happy while her body was like this. She knew all too well it could have been worse. The funeral she had missed because she had been in a coma for a few weeks told her that. Twelve years old. August Matthews was only twelve years old when he was crossing the street on a snowy day. Two cabs went careening into each other and Auggie was trapped in the middle. The cars hit and spun off each other, one hitting a light post and crushing to a stop. The other spinning into the girl who had heard her brother cry out. Into the girl who had not been watching to make sure her brother was keeping up. The girl who would never forgive herself for as long as she lived. Who would give anything to take her brother's place. The brother that lied in the street, gone before he hit the ground.
The cold wind rustled the chimes hanging outside a window a few stories above Maya's head. What was meant to be peaceful only sounded like chaotic ringing in Maya's ears. Her body was growing numb from sitting outside the window, but she was used to it. She was used to the emptiness that came when the cold wind made its way through each layer of Maya's clothing, through each thick layer of skin, straight through Maya's soul. She actually welcomed the cold chill that filled her body. That was part of the reason she spent everyday at the window sill. Even during the warmer months, the same cold stung her. The cold made her forget about the girl who wanted nothing to do with her. Made her forget about the memories they shared. One day, Maya would get up the courage to knock on the window. She would knock, and she would find the window unlocked. But until then, Maya would use every strength left in her to breathe in. And breathe out.