‘Why?’ The word escaped my mouth. She put her hand on my head and hushed me. Down the passage, a bed was pushed quickly. They lifted me off the floor onto the bed, crying, battling to breathe, fighting my own racing heart.

Why?

25. JHANVI

25

JHANVI

‘You can go home today.’ The nurse hovered over me, listening to my heartbeat. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew her from somewhere. ‘You need to make sure that you eat well, okay?’ Everyone was going on about my weight; but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the damage that was done to my reputation because of two wannabes in a bathroom.

‘I will,’ I said and smiled sweetly at her. Kavya had dropped off my keys the day before, telling me that she had not left back her set after our fight. My mom helped me into my clothes. My body was sore, but only because I’d been forced to lay in bed for so long. Thankfully, I had plenty of material that I could post, and my stats seemed to be recovering since my first honest piece of content, about me being in a hospital. Some people had alluded to me being in rehab, which I rubbished immediately.

‘This is the number of one of our psychiatrists. He is really good. We suggest that you see him to get yourself back on track.’ I nodded, although I didn’t feel like there was anything major wrong with me to warrant seeing a psychiatrist.

‘When we get back to your apartment, we’ll talk,’ my mom said, trying to start the conversation I didn’t want to have.

‘Mom, I’m fine, really. I’ve learned from what happened, and I will make sure it never happens again.’ My dad patted my mom on the back, which I knew meant that the conversation was only being stalled until later. Suddenly, staying in the hospital seemed like a better idea. Kavya saved me from my impending misery.

‘Look what I brought you,’ she said, breezing into my hospital room, a small light pink bag in her hand. I opened it excitedly. Inside were my Nike sneakers, some makeup and a pair of oversized glasses.

‘You’re amazing.’ I reached out to hug her, and she laughed as she embraced me. My friend was back in my life, and I was so grateful to her for forgiving me. Without Kavya, I wasn’t sure I would have made it back from this. The taxi ride home was awkward. My mom wouldn’t give me my phone and, I have to admit, I pouted in exactly the same way I used to when I was a child. Slipping the key into my door, we walked into my apartment. I groaned; pill packets and vodka bottles littered my living room, the smell from the now rotting fruits permeated the musty two-bedroom apartment I called home.