eurydicebound

This isn't really finished or edited or anything, but it's not bad for working out this week's stress-related issues. It's the first time I've worked on something new that wasn't for school or pay in a long time.

Vanishing
“Have you lost weight?” he asks, looking at me as though this is the first time we’ve met in years.

“Yes,” I said simply.

Charles looks at me intently, the crease between his eyebrows becoming more pronounced. “You look really thin.”

“I haven’t lost that much weight.” I walk to the couch and sit. It’s a long way, or at least it feels like it.

“Still...” he says. He gives me a brief, worried glance. I smile back at him, shaking my head slowly. He half-smiles, sheepish, then looks back down at his book. I turn and look out the window.

I told him the truth. I haven’t lost that much weight. I wasn’t small when all this began, although I wasn’t huge. A bit of lost weight wouldn’t hurt me.

I turn and look back over at him. Chelsea, our cat, pads over to me across the back of the couch. I reach slowly over to pet her, but she sniffs at my hand instead. The air above my hand is the slightest bit fuzzy and I lose sight of her eyes through it. It’s hard to focus.

She turns away and trots back down the couch, going to settle by Charles. She won’t let me touch her any more. I can’t blame her, really.

“Charles...” I say his name softly. I was trying for louder, but it sounds muted to my ears.

“Why don’t you go get some lunch, baby,” he says. “I’m going to be a little while.” He doesn’t look up.

I rise from the seat and walk into the kitchen. My vision clouds for a second, white vapor drifting up before my eyes. I take the steps into the kitchen and let the door shut behind me. Looking down at my body, my arms... the mist is here too... at least I think it is. My skin looks oddly pale under the florescent lights in the kitchen. I close my eyes and turn my head, listening to the bird singing in the lilac bush outside the window. I can still see the negative image left from the glowing lights behind my eyes.

Everything is very far away. It’s quiet now... peaceful. So much easier. I open my eyes and take a moment to readjust to the light. The kitchen seems almost cloudy... I can see sunbeams through the air, as glittering as champagne in a flute glass on a warm night. I look around the counters for food, but I don’t see any. I know I went to the store just the other day, but... none of it feels like food any more. I feel vaguely nauseous at the thought of eating, anyway. It’s too solid.

I know what this is. I’m vanishing.

I tried not to, at first. I fought. I called him just to talk, but he was busy. I asked my friends to go out, but they had things to do. I thought that if I could get someone to focus on me, to make me real, it would help me be real. I know, crazy. Doesn’t work that way... it comes from inside or not at all, and something happened to mine. Whatever kept me solid just... stopped and got quiet and still. With no one to miss it, it was no time until it was gone altogether.

I don’t miss that, actually. Quiet and still are good. Peace is good. These things I have.

I’m feeling lighter now, light headed and light bodied. The shadow of my arms against the table looks lighter than it did. What started with emotions went to action. People stopped noticing me because I stopped being someone you’d notice. It was easy. Nothing to disturb the still, calm waters. No pebbles, no bills, no boyfriends to make waves.

It was a week before I was aware enough to worry, but then it was too late. I’m losing weight, but I’m not on a diet. Charlie doesn’t know the difference, but I do. It just... won’t stay. And I can’t seem to eat, so it doesn’t come back. It evaporates, like lifting yourself out of a hot bath into a cold room, watching the water vaporize off your arm in waves of steam.

I’m not losing weight. I’m losing me. Piece by piece, atom by atom. Sometimes I can stave it off, but not now. My size stays the same, but now I’m... not hollow, but thinner somehow. Translucent. Dissipating.

Vanishing.

It won't be long now. Sound has gone quiet... too much so. I can't even hear the refrigerator hum anymore. Everything before my eyes is a fog of white. The only thing I can still hear is my breath, coming oh so slowly. I don't breathe in much anymore. It feels as though if I did, I might pop like an aging soap bubble, a swirl of brilliant colors and then... gone....

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe....