Chapter 42: "Spiraling"
Zariah curled up on the floor, the bandage wrapped haphazardly around her arm throbbing with every beat of her heart.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
Her chest tightened painfully, and her mind spun, dragging her deeper into the darkness she had no energy left to fight.
She should get up.
She should pretend everything was normal.
But she couldn't move.
She didn't even flinch when her phone buzzed weakly from her nightstand.
One buzz.
Two.
Three.
Jasmine.
Where are you?
You okay?
I'm coming over.
Zariah didn't respond. Couldn't.
Minutes blurred into hours. She barely registered the knock at the front door, the distant sound of her mom's voice letting Jasmine in. Her mom didn't question it — Jasmine visiting was normal enough.
What wasn't normal was how fast Jasmine's footsteps pounded up the stairs.
"Zariah?" Jasmine's voice cracked through the door, sharp and scared. "Zariah, open up."
Zariah stayed silent, head buried in her knees, breath shallow and shaky.
The doorknob rattled.
Another beat of silence.
And then — a soft thud.
Jasmine had sat down against the door.
"Z," she said quietly, almost whispering. "You don't have to open the door. Just... just listen, okay?"
Zariah squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking out hot and fast.
"I know today sucked," Jasmine continued. "And I know it feels like it's never gonna get better. But you're still here. You're still breathing. And even if you can't see it right now, that means something."
The lump in Zariah's throat grew unbearable.
"I don't care if you're broken. I don't care if you're angry or tired or scared," Jasmine's voice cracked again. "I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere."
Zariah's fingers twitched.
Her whole body ached from the effort of holding everything in.
Slowly, shakily, she pushed herself off the floor and stumbled toward the door.
She rested her forehead against it, feeling the slight vibration of Jasmine's breathing on the other side.
"I'm tired," Zariah whispered.
"I know," Jasmine said immediately, voice thick with tears. "It's okay. You don't have to be strong right now."
And for the first time that day, Zariah let herself cry.
Not the quiet, hidden kind of crying — but the real, body-shaking sobs she hadn't allowed in months.
Jasmine stayed there the whole time, talking to her softly through the wood, reminding her she wasn't alone, not now, not ever.
Even in the silence, even in the worst of it —
Zariah wasn't invisible anymore.