The atmosphere at school changed on Monday. It was a short week for everyone, and the air was charged with anticipation of a long break from the routine. Most classes scheduled midterm exams before the fall break, and I tried to focus on my schoolwork despite the lack of sleep that was grinding me down to a nub. Shuffling around campus in a trance-like state, I found myself drifting away, escaping into daydreams about swimming and surfing.
Ethan returned to art class, but I usually stumbled in late and was able to avoid having to sit by him. I was hurt by the way he had so easily turned his back on me, and all the friendliness and affection between us had vaporized. I focused the energy I had left on making it through until Wednesday, planning on trying to sleep during the day over the break. Mr. Briggs kept casting worried looks my way.
Tuesday night I woke up in the middle of moving the desk away from the door, which terrified me. Frantic, I sat up with the lights on until dawn, afraid to lie back down. I could sense that the barricade wasn’t going to work much longer. Forces pulled at me from the depths of the sea. Something powerful was taking control of my dreams.
It felt as though I was becoming a zombie, numbly wandering the halls with a growing sense of detachment. I was so tired I barely noticed Ethan follow me into art class. He slid into the seat next to me, and his leg kept brushing against mine. I felt like he was playing a cruel game, and I moved my chair as far away as I could in a fog of confusion and sadness. I couldn’t deal with one more thing. There was an art history slide show on our last day, and I fell asleep at my desk, overcome by exhaustion.
~
I was being pulled underwater, looking up to see the bottom of a boat grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared. I was crying, filled with unbearable sorrow, and it occurred to me that the whole ocean was made up of salty tears.