Like a dawn

Abril 2021

Madison, Wisconsin

She didn’t turn on the lights when she entered her flat. She just dropped the keys on the small wooden table by the door, even though she knew they didn’t belong there. She hadn’t hung them on the key holder again since then, almost as if she expected Mark to appear to remind her once more where they should go.

The mirror reflected a haggard and exhausted face back at her. Her lack of appetite and the apathy that had taken over her life had turned her into little more than a wandering shadow. Her skin, once full of life, had lost all trace of colour, and under her eyes were purple shadows that told anyone who looked that she hadn’t rested well in weeks. Or rather, in months.

She slowly stroked her bony cheeks with her fingertips, but quickly looked away, loathing what she had become.

Like another shadow in her apartment, she stepped out of her worn trainers by treading on the heels and let her jacket fall to the floor with a dull thud. She walked through the living room to her desk, facing the large window overlooking the lake, now shrouded in darkness. While her computer started up, she headed to the open-plan kitchen, looking for something to eat.

She seemed to have found a way to drift through life on autopilot. She opened the silver fridge, which, as usual, was almost empty. It only looked full and inviting when John visited and stocked it with tubs that just needed heating.

“Pizza or… pizza,” she sighed, picking up a poorly closed container.

She closed the fridge with her foot and, not even bothering to heat up the previous day’s pizza, went back to the desk and slumped into her chair.

When was the last time she ate something with a real appetite?

Lately, she’d forced herself to eat at least twice a day. If she kept losing weight, John would make good on his threat to take her to live with him. The last thing Leah wanted was to live with her brother and his wife, happily married for five years and expecting their first child. Leah loved John and knew how much he was suffering because of her situation. That’s why she’d started to distance herself from him, trying not to cloud his happiness with the bitterness that was consuming her.

She brought the slice of pizza to her mouth while, with her free hand, she opened her email inbox to check the message she’d received a few minutes ago in the park. That was the precise moment when what would become the beginning of the end began.

That expression may seem exaggerated and pessimistic, but I must admit it was the first ray of sunshine after a long and devastating storm.

Leah’s eyes quickly identified the sender of the message, and in shock, she let the slice of pizza she was holding close to her mouth fall onto the carpet. The half-chewed bite in her mouth turned into a lump that almost choked her for the second time that afternoon.

She coughed hard, pounding her chest to help the piece of food go down. When she finally managed to breathe again, she fixed her eyes on the message, confirming that she hadn’t read it wrong: the sender was Karel Davis.

“No, no, no… Bloody hell!” she shouted angrily as she leapt to her feet, moving away from the computer as if it were burning her.

After a few seconds of nervously pacing around the living room, she was overcome by a whirlwind of emotions she couldn’t decipher. It was a mix of anger, fear, and excitement in equal parts. Her heart, that hurt with every beat, thudded forcefully, reminding her it was still alive.

She returned to the desk and read that name again: Karel Davis.

“Don’t panic,” she told herself, trying to calm down.

She opened the message, holding her breath, and read it quickly. She needed a second reading to process the words.

"Hi Leah! It’s been ages since we last spoke. I’m writing with some good news: the trip you booked for 2019 is back on. We’ll be leaving from Chicago on 3rd June and arriving in Santa Monica on the 14th. Please confirm your places as soon as possible. I need to finalise the list between today and tomorrow. Looking forward to meeting you soon! Sarah."

A part of Leah felt great relief to see that the message was signed by Sarah and not Kal. However, at the same time, a strange ball of rage began to form in her stomach. She clenched her teeth, feeling how that anger, which she’d kept hidden in a dark corner of herself, burst out uncontrollably. The sensation was so intense she could almost imagine herself spitting fire, like an enraged dragon.

She had to step away from the computer to avoid smashing the keyboard against the screen. Suddenly, she realised her breathing had quickened again. She hated Kal with all her strength. She hated him because his voice persisted in her memory, unlike Mark’s, which had faded. She hated him because he hadn’t fought to stay with her and because he was nowhere to be found when Mark passed away.

Consumed by this surge of anger, she headed to the bedroom and slumped on the edge of the bed. She dug her fingers into the mattress, obsessively telling herself that he wasn’t worth it. “All my feelings belong to Mark, not him,” she told herself bitterly.

But her attempts at self-convincing were in vain. Suddenly, a deafening ringing invaded her ears, and she realised, too late, that she was having one of those panic attacks she’d worked so hard to overcome. However, this one was different. Instead of fear or pain, she was overwhelmed by an intense rage and an uncontrollable urge to scream. Yet only a silent sob escaped her throat.

She lay back, clutching the pillow and burying her face in it. At last, she was able to scream with all her might, releasing everything she’d held in for years. The ball of acid and hatred lodged in her stomach rose up her throat, tearing it with a scream that, paradoxically, felt freeing.

Seconds later, she threw the pillow to the floor and broke into tears. That message had been the click she needed to realise she couldn’t face grief alone. Mark was gone forever, but Kal was still part of her happiest memories, and that contradiction tore her apart.

Every tear that fell from her eyes felt like a stab, sinking her deeper into that black hole that had long threatened to consume her. Almost without realising it, she crawled to the doorway where she’d dropped her jacket. With trembling hands, she fished her mobile phone out of the pocket and, clumsily, dialled her brother’s number.

“John…” she gasped as soon as she heard his voice. “I can’t breathe,” she sobbed, before the phone slipped from her hands. She gave up, curling up into a trembling ball on the floor, crying inconsolably.

She had tried to face it in every possible way, but this battle was far too great to fight alone.