I couldn’t anymore.
Chapter 43
A couple of days later, I was back in the kitchen, making a new type of cookie that I had found a recipe for, and finally got the ingredients to give it a try.
I wasn’t sure cake mix would make good cookie dough, but I was giving it a shot. It wasn’t like I had anything to lose.
My motions were slow as I mixed the batter in the bowl. Everything was slow around me, but it was better than the world flashing too fast while I stayed in one spot. It probably didn’t help that I hadn’t been sleeping well for the last few nights, either.
But life went on. It had to.
Just because my world was falling apart, again, my life still moved on, and there were things to do. Money to make.
Who cared that I looked like I rolled out of bed this morning? I couldn’t even remember the last time I took a shower, but I didn’t think I smelt bad, so there was that.
I twisted my head to sniff a pit, making sure I did in fact smell decent. I smelt clean, I think, so I shrugged to myself.
“Did you sleep last night?” Dawn came into the kitchen, a robe wrapped around her and hair a bit messy, just like mine currently was.
Instead of answering that, I stirred the batter a bit quicker. We could say I slept and pretend it was true.
“Koda,” she sighed, laying a hand on my own, pausing my stirring. “This isn’t healthy.”
I stepped back, stirring back in place as she took her hand away.
“You need sleep. And you need food. You’re killing yourself right before my eyes.”
No, I wasn’t, I huffed at my thought. I was working.
“If you don’t start caring about your wellbeing, I will step in.”
I shot her a look, one filled with part dare, one part fear.
What would she do? Order me to eat? She did that already. Make me have more protein shakes, which I started to flat out refusing.
I was fine.
“At least take a nap when you’re done,” she exhaled, grabbing a mug of coffee. “And eat something.”
I didn’t reply. I didn’t these days.Dawn stood there, most likely having a hundred other things to tell me, but instead gave me a sad smile and walked away.
I wiped away a single tear before returning back to my current treats.
I didn’t need a person to tell me what to do. I didn’t need someone fussing over my failure at living.
Getting lost in the second batch of treats, this time rice Krispies with dye, I didn’t bother to react to the doorbell when it rang through the house. I ignored the voices. I paid no heed to Dawn, her voice seeming to be a bit louder than normal when answering the door, but didn’t bother to tune in as I dumped the cereal into the hot pan, and mixing it all together.
I didn’t even bother to glance up from spreading the mixture into a flat baking sheet, making sure it was smooth and even through the entire thing, as Dawn and someone else came into the kitchen.
Dawn’s words went in one ear and out the other as I turned back to the stove, setting the pan on top, and got ready to make a second pan of the overly sweet treats.
As long as I forced breath into my lungs, and kept my thoughts under a strict lock and key, I would – could – pretend that I was alone in the kitchen. I could pretend that I enjoyed life. I could pretend everything was fine. And maybe, then, everything would be perfect in a pretend world.
When a hand, one with tattoos and long fingers, went to grab my arm, to stop my movement, I sidestepped away, going to adifferent part of the kitchen to grab more marshmallows.
Whatever words were spoken, they were of a different language, not sticking in my brain, as I opened the bag, and dumped them all in the pan.
But that was when my luck ran out. Of course it would, because luck wasn’t on my side.
