From my peripheral vision, i could see that Annette made a strange face when she watched me popping out pills like they were Halloween candies. She was horrified, but curious. I could feel. She moved her mug awkwardly, her palm was sweating.
“Can you be normal for once”
Was her response when she found out more of pill containers inside my cabinet. I ignored her. Tugging my feet so i can hug my folded knees. She brought me my tea mug, it’s piping hot i could tell, a bowl of chopped romaine lettuce with dressing I barely know, drizzled on top of it , not so much of a salad. That was all could only find, that five days old romaine lettuce, in my fridge. Annette used to blabber about my addiction to grocery shopping. I later told her it’s my way of feeling normal. Doing mundane tasks like grocery shopping. Walking from aisle to aisle soothed me.
“It’s not normal to shop every two days, you know? You don’t need all of these. You don’t need chickpeas. Aren’t you allergic to nuts or somethin’?” She once shouted.
But I couldn’t tell whether she’s happy that my addiction had stopped or that she’s even more concerned now that I haven’t even stocked my fridge for weeks.
She sat next to me. Back to back looking at me then my salad, sadly. I turned to look at her. Annette was always been beautiful. Even in her tracksuit, loosen ponytail braids with her baby hair floating ferociously above her forehead. She recently dyed her hair burgundy. I knew it from her instagram before i deleted the app last friday. Annette was so fond of freshening up her look by doing something with her hair. Which captured her face perfectly. Freckles spread across her face like fairy dust, she might’ve looked pale but her eyes in the shade of Russet give her face that warm cheery look. Like a teenage girl. My mother used to said to me whenever Annette came over for the holidays
“Eat now. How long have you been like this? Not eating? Not showering? You could’ve told me and i’d brought you something from Cecile’s or i could cook for you? Why did you even turn off your phone?” Said her in the flush of anger.
She then told me that she can cook me the korean army stew I’ve always liked. Another trivia about Annette is that she loved cooking. It’s her love language. She would cook for the people and take it very seriously, she would take notes on everybody’s favorite meal. I used to love watching Annette cook. Her way of cutting cabbage, peeling onion, the way she stir the bubbling hot tomato soup, the way she blew the wooden spoon and sip it to taste test it. There was something so calming about the way she stood in the kitchen, rustling with pans and kitchen utensils.
It wasn’t until that I realized that her beauty was not only shown in her look, but also by the way she radiates care for people around her.
Annette was that girl I could never be.
“Have you called Dr Francis?” She snapped me out of my wandering mind. I nodded. Turned back to the gleaming TV in front of us. It’s Breaking Bad night. We used to have our scheduled tv show night together on thursday night. Started off in college. Now she always come to my place with a big bag of butter salted popcorn or cheese platter. Her favorite was binge watching Gilmore Girls or Grey’s Anatomy. How To Get Away With Murder was her second option, alongside Law and Order, or Two Broke Girls.
She looked at my fidgeting feet. And pouting. She does that when she’s frustrated.
“Stop it, Annette”. I muttered. The middle of her eyebrows crinkled.
“Stop looking at me like im about to die” i hissed again.
She was even more startled now.
“I’m just worried” she replied with more frown.
“Has Eric came over?”
Then there was that question i dreaded so much. I shook my head. Tried to fill my ear with whatever Jesse Pinkman said to Bryan Cranston. Annette grabbed my wrist asking for attention. I jolted back like my skin was just dunked in the bucket of ice water. I let go of her hand.
“Why didn’t you tell Eric?”
“He must’ve been worried”
“Could you just stop pushing people away like this?”
“And all those pills? Did Eric even knew about that? You consumed twelve pills in a day, what if you got seizures? What if…”
She stopped in the air
“…you OD-ed?”
She finally said the banger.
I bursted in a dry laugh. She was angry.
“You go tell Eric, then”
“See, Annette, if you’re any smarter you would’ve known that if he ever cared at all he would have been here by now”
Annette looked like like she was about to vomit.
“It’s over, Annette. I don’t want you to talk about Eric. Or my medicine”
“It’s troubling you, isn’t it? Wouldn’t it beeasier to just stop caring, Annette? Like Eric did?”
“What do you get from caring about someone like me?”
“Exactly”
“Nothing”
I stormed out before dragging myself out of the room leaving her. Sobbing with the TV still screaming behind her.
I heard Annette pulling herself out from the door and i fade away into my medicine’s blackness.
Hoping I got seizures and really OD-ed. That way I would never have to bear the guilt of pushing away the only person who really cared about me
