The darkness closed in, wavering as the light filtered away. Spencer moves through the world as though it’s made of water, and she is drowning. Her heart beats slowly, purposefully, and she listens to its incessant drumming, waiting for it to stop. It has to stop. But the drumming goes on, echoing in her ears, bursting with each throb, her head alive and dead all at the same time. She feels her legs, leaden and heavy, take each stair up to her room, and vaguely hears the noise behind her. Her father, her mother, Glen, someone calling out, sounding distant and lifeless. She ignores them, climbing each stair as though it was Mt. Everest. She makes it to her room and closes the door. Placing her bag on the floor, every moment perfected and robotic, she takes off her clothes and puts on her pyjamas. Moving to the window, she closes the curtains over the perfect summer sunshine filtering through, and lays on her bed. And still she sees.

Ashley

Spencer’s hands find a pillow, and pull it into a close hug. She hears a tentative knock on her door, but ignores it. The door openes anyway. She knows it is her father, but she doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything. She feels the bed give way as he sits, his hand warm and gentle on her brow as he strokes back her hair. He doesnt say anything. Neither does she. But she still sees.

Ashley

She swallows, rolling over more, bringing her knees up to the pillow hugged to her chest, turning her head into the bed. She wants to be alone. She feels her father’s breath catch, and then she’s alone again. The door closing behind him makes a soft thud.

How could you do this to me?

She wants to cry, wants to sob, but all that she can do is breathe. In and out, in and out, rhythmically like it’s an obsession. Her hand closes on the bed clothes convulsively.

Ashley, how could you do this to me?

She concentrated on her breath as it caresses her fist. She’s trying to think of nothing. Trying not to think actually. It isn’t working. Every flash in front of her eyes is Ashley, tanned and beautiful. Ashley at the beach, throwing water, laughing. Ashley dancing, sexy and taut. Ashley, naked and in her arms. Ashley. Nine months, nine long months she’d had her nearby, in her every waking thought and every waking desperate moment. Nine months they had been together. And now, it was over.

Ashley. Why did you leave me?

It’s like a hurricane in her head. Nothing moves around her, nothing moves in her, except her head, whirring like an explosive helicopter. The images clash and burn, searing her head with pain and fear. She feels herself beginning to slip. And still she sees.

Dammit Ashley wake up. Get up.

She saw herself in camera, like an attached visitor, not quite there but seeing everything. She saw herself open the front door. She saw herself open Ashley’s door. She sees Ashley, ashen and grey. Ashley, on the floor. And the panic and the beating of her head. She sees the blue and red lights flashing off the pool. She sees the stretcher, slow and calm, lifted into the truck, no need for panic now.

Ashley.

She sees the clothes on her floor where she let them drop, black as the night. Black for the day, and black for her inside. Black like the life blood of Ashley, pooling around her, as she lies, like a beautiful doll. And she sees.