Life happens in years, years happen in days, and days happen in hours…

No.

Days happen in minutes.

08:55

Hundreds of students make their way into the outside gym, packing in for the most boring assembly of the school year. I stand away from the chaos with a friend. Not a close friend, but a friend just the same. Soon my date appears, and then two more friends. After a short but loud discussion, we decide to leave, picking up another two of our friends on the way. It’s an adventure and I pick up my pace.

09:07

Four of us are in a clean, boxy Kia. A relaxed EDM-type song plays from the speakers and our driver laughs, his wrist steering the car as we climb the mountain. I see for miles, endless colors. I see the patterns of the seat, a checkered shirt, a leather bracelet, and stop to smile when I see blue eyes.

09:24

Seven people and one large dog in the basement. Shoes by the door, shouts over video games. There is quite the racket, but I am content, laughing.

10:58

The weight of two off-brand Benadryls magnetizes my head to my desk. The notes are easy, and maybe it’s justified. Her voice fades in and out, but everything is pink and grey. I drift off again.

13:06

I set my mediocre lunch on the table where no less than four boys are shouting, writhing around and… eating fries? The Hot Sauce has made an appearance in the ketchup. Bite after bite, eyes water and fists hit the table. I snag a fry. It burns, but the sting of the heat is nice. Feels like a star is in my mouth. I reach for more.

13:47

We’re slipping backward. It’s the chaos of us four sitting on a table and leaning on each other. It’s not a group hug but maybe it could be. All I know is that I am warm and surrounded by people I love; I relax.

14:31

The metal slides, and finally the glass falls with a resounding crack. Cool air rushes in, pushes my hair back and my eyes closed. I’m drowsy. He pulls me into his lap, hugging me around the waist. Mumbles something in my hair. I close my eyes.

15:08

I’m sunk into the couch. The fabric even feels grey under my fingers. Haphazardly, I rip open the ACT envelope. Great scores across all subjects. High percentiles in state and country. I’m proud of myself; I smile.

16:00

Sunlight glints off the goal, and the grass is much greener than it has been lately. There’s a blanket underneath us, but the coarse plaid doesn’t stop all of the moisture from reaching my pants. He’s wrapped in a second blanket, and then my arms. I’m trying to keep him warm. When he laughs, I drink in the sound, hold him closer.

17:20

My phone is dead. I wonder for maybe the eight-hundredth time why the battery is absolute trash. It had been at 40-something percent last I checked. I plug it into my portable charger, a metallic color just off the shade of the grass. The power-on screen shows and I set it aside.

17:30

JV is playing now. Our boy is out there, working hard. I’m excited to be at the game and make a note to come later to see the whole game next time. I check my phone for texts, but the screen is black. The charger is also dead. It’ll be fine; Mom should be here any minute and she’ll understand. I look for her car, but I don’t see it.

17:38

The team has already scored two goals since the game started, and I’m filled with pride, pride that shows in my face, in the red paint I wear, in the lettering of my Game Day shirt. It’s almost 5:40 and I still haven’t seen my mother. Maybe she can’t find the field. We stand to go find a reliable power source for my phone. I start walking.

18:14

For the first time in my life, I’m crying in the shower. Hot, anguished tears that mix with the water on my face. The skin around my skull pulls together, like it’s trying to suffocate me. My throat is tight; it’s shrunk down to the size of a pencil point. Somehow the thoughts crawl into my lungs and multiply until they burn me from the inside out like a swarm of hornets reminding me I’m a failure, that no matter how hard I try, something always falls short and I’ll never be good enough for someone to be proud of me. The sobs fight to break the surface and I’m left standing there wondering why.

18:31

The car door opens with a snap and when I step out, cool wind hits my bare face, pushing my damp hair back, and I revel in the jarring temperature. The air pushes its way into my lungs and my insides are filled with clarity. It doesn’t feel cold to me; I feel alive.

20:17

I’m sat at the bar, ginger beer in hand. “Hey Beautiful” is blaring on the speaker and dinner is in the oven. The drink burns my throat, but that’s why I like it. I’m wearing my mother’s apron, but not drowning in it. I managed to make a great meal for the both of us that didn’t suck. It means something to me, I realize.

22:32

Darkness dampens the quiet around me. I feel distant, emotional, abstract. My pen wavers, and then I set it down. I don’t know what to say. I have a flurry of thoughts like fireflies storming around in my mind, but I can’t translate them into any language I know. I want to be upset—I want to be sad or angry or something. But I close the notebook. I feel nothing.