An Emotional Summoning

I wrote this on a whim. It was one of those moments in which I felt I absolutely had to write something, but I didn't know what to write. This is fiction, not to be confused with how I feel in any way. I wanted to invoke emotions, but I wasn't quite sure which emotions I wanted the reader to feel.

The end result was mostly confusion. Still, here, have a drabble.


She studies her painted toenails with all the aplomb of a statue until her eyes glaze over and she has to blink to refocus.

The quiet isn't what she came for, but she can't help but seek it out. She's been on her own for so long now that hearing the daily noises of other people is both odd and slightly unnerving and she almost wants to go find them and tell them to shut up and get out of her house, but it's not her place to say that. She loves those noises because they remind her that she's no longer alone and that she took the time and the money to see the people she loves. Although not just to alleviate the loneliness, but it was a big part of it.

But she's tired. They're selfish feelings and still it's good to be cared for. She never takes care of herself because it doesn't mean nearly as much when you try to tuck yourself in or make a bowl of soup.

She's weak and sickly and they know it. Keeping her warm and making her eat before she passes out means more. She clings to it because it's her own fault and their actions don't make her feel the slightest bit guilty and she doesn't know how much more guilt she can push away.

Life, however, is about making your own choices and even at nearly twenty-one she considers people she no longer lives with or is accountable to. But it's all selfishness because she can't make decisions for herself any better than she can stay healthy for more than a month.