Page 223 of Broken Saint

I’ve been here suffering and they’re over there worrying.

For the first time in weeks, I get a tingle of awareness that everything might just be okay.

It lasts for all of ten seconds or so before I realize that out of all the names on my screen, Colt’s isn’t one of them.

Did I really think he would have reached out?

No.

Did I secretly hope that he might have done it anyway?

Yes. Yes, I did.

I grip my cell tighter when my head swims and the room spins.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

Trying to work through it, I open Letty’s message thread and read through everything she’s sent me.

Every word from her makes me cry harder. She is the most incredible friend, and after being nothing but a shitty one in return, I don’t deserve her.

Her final one was sent only yesterday and it simply says,I love you, and I’m here.

I can barely see the words through my tears, and it’s equally as hard to move my thumb to finally reply.

Ella: I love you too. I’m sorry.

I hit send and then flop onto the bed, unable to hold myself up any longer.

Sleep doesn’t come for me right away. Instead, I lie there staring at one spot on my wall.

Silent tears soak my comforter as the sounds and scents of Mom in the kitchen waft around me, but I don’t feel anything.

I’m numb.

Broken and numb.

My surroundings blur weirdly as white noise fills my ears.

“Ella, it’s ready.” I barely hear Mom’s voice.

I don’t move. I can’t.

Instead, I just keep staring, my limbs refusing to function.

I should probably be panicking. Everything feels wrong. Alien. But I’m not.

Suddenly, after all these weeks of pain, everything is peaceful.

Everything is…nothing.

The last thing I remember is thinking, it’s time.

Time to get the help I need.

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COLTON