I laid in bed the next day.

I didn't do my early chores. I didn't text Will, or my friends. Didn't even go to school.

I just laid down and looked up at my ceiling. I tried not to think, but it seemed to be the only thing I could do. My phone rang a few times, probably Hazel or maybe even Will. Mama checked on me before work, but since she left it's just been me, alone, in this house.

I rolled over to my side, staring at my wall. I had lots of posters up. Some of them were nerdy, like Star Wars. Some of them were my favorite bands or singers. Some of them were photos that I had printed on large paper, but I tried not to look at those.

I exhaled shakily, my eyelids falling just a little bit. Hooded eyes and warm blankets were the definition of me right now.

My phone rang again. I don't know what came over me, but I looked at it. A missed call from Hazel.

She had left 12 message. I didn't look at any of them, but I typed out I'm okay and sent it to her. Maybe that would suffice (probably not).

There was a pit of sorrow in my chest I just couldn't escape today.

I'm sorry, Hazel.

I'm sorry, Mama.

I'm sorry, Will.

I'm just... not okay.