The day I promised to contact her, I fell asleep without speaking a word to anyone. When tomorrow finally arrived, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating surrendering to the same hollow routine.
I eventually dragged myself to the mirror.
"Good morning, Ame," I whispered. There is nothing but my reflection.
"How are yo—"
I stopped. I couldn't finish the sentence. Turning away, I let the habit of existence take over.
The house was still. Grandma was still sleeping, which was unusual, but I brushed it off, blaming the deepening winter chill seeping through the walls.
"I'm leaving!"
I shouted into the silence. There was no reply; the house remained tucked under its blankets.
"I'm taking you today,"
I murmured to my scoty. My hands shook slightly. I was terrified of the road, but I had no one else to rely on. I had to be my own strength.
"Slowly, slowly. Focus, focus."
The mantra worked. I reached the showroom faster than expected. Despite the familiar rows of gleaming cars and the scent of floor wax, everything felt... skewed. My coworkers looked like strangers; the office felt like a place I hadn't visited in years. I felt like a ghost haunting my own life.
The day dragged on until, finally, the clock released me. I pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering over Jennie's name.
Ring. Ring.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I was certain she wouldn't pick up—not after how long I'd stayed silent.
But she answered on the first ring.
"Hello?"
"Hello... Jennie?" My voice cracked, thin and brittle.
"Are you okay?" she asked immediately, the rush of concern in her voice catching me off guard.
I had a thousand things to say, but only one came out. "Are you fine?"
"So, you finally remember me,"
She teased gently, but her tone shifted back to warmth instantly.
"Are you fine now? Is everything alright?"
She didn't scold me. She didn't curse me for the silence. She only cared about how I was feeling. A wave of regret washed over me;
I should have called her so much sooner.
We talked for a long time, bridging the gap that silence had built between us. The weight on my chest began to lift, pixel by pixel.
"I'm just about to head home,"
I said eventually, feeling a genuine smile tug at my lips. "I'll call you once I'm back."
"You better!" Jennie laughed. "Same here."
As I tucked my phone away, the world felt a little less cold. It was in that moment I realized I didn't have to be alone—I just had to reach out.