I don't know how long I stare at the ceiling, with its peeling paint and spots of mold staring back like disgusting eyes. At some point my hand finds its way to my phone.

Kelly's stream link is there in a notification from the game. Past that, I have a text message. It's from Fara, and she sent it hours ago. I can barely even work up the will to read it. Reading it means doing things, and doing things only leads to more suffering.

My finger taps the message.

'You liking the new game so far?'

Do I respond? If I do, what do I say? My arm flops down beside me. I can't even deal with texting my sister. Why do I have to be like this...? Why is this my life? I just, I can't...

My rapid downward spiral is only halted when I realize I'm outside the food store. Oh, I guess I dealt with it. I'm still hungry, so I must have come here for food. The sun in the sky tells me it's sometime in the afternoon. My aching side and the blood on my hands tell me I got jumped again on the way here. I wipe my hands on my jeans, but they come away even more filthy than before. Meh.

I slog my way into the food store, hunched low against the gazes that turn on me. Riding the line between rushing and pretending not to rush while pushing down my bile at the though of these people perceiving me, I grab bread and instant noodles. The cheapest I can find, and as much as the couple dollars in my pocket will buy. It'll have to last me through the week.

On my way up to the register, I muse about how my diet might kill me before I work up the balls to do it myself.

Of course the store clerk is ready to book at the sight of me. I'm a fucking monster. I just try not to look at him. He takes the money and slides the change of a few coins across the counter tentatively. I pocket it, then leave. I trudge back home to my filthy apartment to eat.

One slice of bread. It only takes a couple bites, and I can feel my body demanding I give it more, but that's all I have for now. I'd run out before the end of the week otherwise.

My stomach as sated as it will ever be, I flop back down on my reeking bed. Fuck it, my body should just rot away. I grab my phone, seeing two new messages this time.

I open the one from Jack first. Always the busy one, he only just got back to me about playing Planes of Oblivion, inviting me to meet up if I start playing too. I grimace and type out something non-committal. The fuck was I thinking, texting him?

Then I open Fara's message. Oh, I sent her something earlier.

'yeah'

It's in response to her asking if I've been having fun. Then there's her new message after that.

'I'm coming over. Be there in an hour.' Wait, WHAT? When did she send her message?

An hour ago.

Knock knock

With her ever-flawless timing, she's at my door right fucking now. I fall out of bed and hit the floor with a hard grunt. Still stumbling my way upright, I rush to the door before she starts banging and pisses off my neighbors.

After checking through the peephole to make sure it's actually her and I'm not about to get robbed, I unbolt all the locks on the door and pull it open for her. And there she is, with the brown hair, smiling face, and that strong build that I recognize despite not remembering a single thing about her.

“Ray, it's good to see you!” Fara beams up at me and pulls me into a tight hug, as disgusting as I am. I unfortunately find myself returning it. The warmth and love is so alien, but so incredibly comforting. Exactly what I didn't know I needed.

I practically melt against her until she's supporting a good deal of my weight. Some part of me feels like I should be crying, but my eyes stay dry. I probably can't cry.

We just stand in the doorway, Fara hugging me and rubbing my back, a fist pressed firmly as she makes big, wonderful circles. Eventually, she pushes me through the door and kicks it closed absently. I collapse into my computer chair and she raises her hands to show off a couple little plastic shopping bags.

“Who wants Chinese? You still like lo mein, right?”

I practically choke on my words. “Y-yeah, sure. Thanks, Fara.”

All I have is my computer desk with its one chair, so she goes to sit on my bed. My heart seizes. I jump up to stop her, frantically starting to pull off the putrid bedsheets I probably haven't changed since I moved in... whenever the hell I moved in.

“Sorry for the mess,” I apologize, ashamed of the state of this place. I deserve to live here, but Fara shouldn't even have to step foot it such a dump.

God, she came to this shit hole because of me. If I wasn't around, she wouldn't have to bother. Even though she's smiling now, she must actually hate having the obligation to care about me.

“Hey hey hey, Ray.” Fara suddenly cuts in when I stop, my fingers clenched into fists around my sheets. “Ray, what's wrong? Talk to me.” She hugs me from the side, pushing me down to sit on the edge of the half-stripped bed. I lean into her, trying to keep breathing, but it's all just too much.

“Come on, stay with me, Ray. It'll be alright, I'm here with you.” Her voice is a tether, holding me back from the edge so I don't slip again. “Just breathe with me. In... out... In... out...”

I follow her breathing, shutting out all the other awful thoughts and just focusing on the steady rise and fall, like she taught me.

It takes a while, but it works.

I'm trembling slightly as Fara draws back to look me in the eye. “Please, talk to me. Tell me what's happening. Why are you having so much trouble now?” She takes a soiled towel off the floor at our feet and uses it to wipe blood from my face.

I drop my gaze from hers. “It's fine.”

“No, it clearly isn't. Out with it,” she commands.

I crumple, like I always do. Relying on her and dragging her down when I wish she would just leave me to rot. “My rent is going up and I won't be able to afford it. I have to get another job. I-I-

Fara is holding me again. One hand rubbing my head with sickening care. How long did I just lose? “You back?” she asks.

“Yeah...” I mutter, slouching down further in shame.

“How much have you been dissociating lately?”

“A lot.”

She sighs deeply. “This is where I ask if you're going to get a therapist, but I know you can't afford one.” There's a stretch of short silence, before she tries to turn to lighter topics. “Come on, let's eat before the food gets cold.”

It isn't cold already? Did she manage to pull me back that quickly this time? I'm used to losing hours at a shot.

I don't have the energy to argue with her, so we end up sitting side by side on my vile, partially stripped mattress to eat our food straight out of the cardboard Chinese takeout containers.

As soon as the first bites go down, my body starts screaming for the food it had largely given up on until now.

“Woah, slow down,” Fara chuckles nervously, “it's not going to run away.”

I slow myself somewhat, but now I have her looking worried again. She stops eating to walk over into my kitchen and look in my empty fridge.

“You have no food in here!” she exclaims. “What have you been eating?”

“Stuff...”

“After we finish, we're going shopping. How much food money do you have for this week?”

“I already did it,” I tell her.

She sighs. I can hear her go through my stuff as I stare down at the food in my hands. I should leave it for later instead of being greedy and finishing it now, shouldn't I?

When Fara speaks again, it's in a scolding tone that makes me hunch over and avoid looking in her direction. “Ray, you have a loaf of white bread and three packs of ramen. You do realize that's two hundred fifty calories per day, right?”

I can only mumble an incoherent response. She walks back over and pulls my chin up to look at her. She's still stern and scolding but with so much care in her eyes it makes me sick to my stomach. “Ray, you can't eat like this. Just look at you, you're starving. You'll die like this.”

“I know...” I think that was the point.

“Let's finish eating, I'll cover for you today.”

“B-but-”

“No buts!” Fara snaps. “You expect me to watch my little brother literally starve to death when I can do something about it? Come on, be real. I don't have a lot, but I can still help.”

I know she can, but that's why... To spend her little extra on trash like me? I should throw myself out the window right now! How can I live as scum like this? Leaching off of her and clawing at her feet to drag her through my pathetic, miserable problems.

Why don't I have the guts to end it?!

“Breathe!” Fara practically shouts. “Come on, Ray, breathe with me!”

I can barely focus on her voice enough to follow along again. But she pulls me back from the edge like always.

When the blinding panic fades, I realize how literal that is. Hands on the sill, I'm halfway out the open window. Fara is wrapped around me from behind, feet braced against the wall to keep me from jumping.

“Auigh,” I choke out some incoherent sound, the shock starting to register. “Ah- ...I'm sorry, Fara. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry...”

Before anything else, she pulls me safely back inside. “What was that, Ray? How long have you been suicidal?!” Despite the clear effort to hide it, she sounds panicked herself now, arms still clutching tight around my chest.

“I don't know.” I can't remember much distinctly past yesterday. It all just heaps together in to a blur of pain and suffering anyway, it's better to just forget it all, right?

“Ray.” She says my name like a command, and turns me around to face her. I hunch, more guilt and shame piling on. When I kill myself, I shouldn't do it in front of her. Watching my body splatter against the ground after a five story drop would definitely be traumatizing. How could I even think of doing that to her? God, I'm the fucking worst...

“Ray.” Fara's voice is like the snap of a whip, bringing me back to attention again. “Change of plans. Pack your stuff, you're coming with me.”

My eyes go wide. “What?”

“I'm taking you back to my place. I am not leaving you alone, while you are actively suicidal.” She locks gazes with me. “Not. Fucking. Happening.”

I know there's no arguing with her. Even though all I'll be doing is dragging my sorry, miserable shit into her life, she won't let me go. Why won't she ever let me go? Can't she see how awful I am? Everything about my existence is like poison...

We're outside. I look around, and Fara perks up. “Welcome back, Ray.”

“Did I pack up my stuff?” I ask, shrugged my shoulders against the weight of a bag. “Did I remember everything?”

“Not sure. You aren't exactly articulate when you're like that.”

I take a minute to check what I have on me. Cell phone and wallet are in my pockets. My computer's in my hands, along with the dozen chains and padlocks that previously held it bolted to my floor so my only valuable possession didn't walk off in the night. I have a bag that contains my money, the only food from my house, and a ratty towel.

“...” Even looking at these things and trying to think about the stuff at my apartment, I have absolutely no idea if there's anything I'm forgetting. I lived there for... I have no idea how long, but I can hardly even remember what it looks like. “Whatever,” I grumble and write the whole thing off.

We start – or I guess continue – walking down the street. I have no idea where we're going, but I'm guessing a bus stop. “What do I do about the rent?”

“You dealt with it on the way out.”

“Oh.” Thanks other-me that can actually deal with shit.

“Don't go back there though, and make sure you get any important mail sent somewhere else. Your old landlord will definitely be burning yours.” I take it back, what the fuck did I do back there?

Dropping that, I just move on. “And my job?” I'm supposed to go back there tomorrow...

“That... isn't dealt with. You should call them. Maybe ask to take a break. I'm not sure how long you'll be at my place.”

“Ugh...” I groan. She puts a hand on my back. “Don't worry, it's just a phone call. I know you can do it.” With her encouragement, I take the rest of the walk to the bus stop to work myself up. When we stop to wait, I set down my computer at my feet and pull out my phone.

Come on, it's just a phone call. Ray can speak to other human beings at least, right? How the fuck should I know, when was the last time I actually did? While I'm fighting myself inside, I hit call to force my own hand.

The phone rings, and rings. I know they're there, the place runs at all hours, doing whatever god-awful work they actually do. There's a click, and I jolt, a lump already in my throat.

“Broker Brocker Co, Nancy speaking.”

I force myself to choke out the words. “H-hi, this is Raymond Hathow, I work there.”

“Alright,” she quips.

“I have, umm, some family stuff and won't be able to come in for a bit.”

“Ahh, I see. No worries. You're fired, have a nice day.” Click.

“...” I have no words. I don't even lose my shit, or break down or anything, I just stand there dumbfounded, until the bus arrives and we board it.

Eventually Fara gets an explanation out of me and sighs deeply. Then she coaches me through a follow up call to get the mailing address for my last check changed to her place. I blankly repeat after her, get it done, then hang up.

We're most of the way down the bus route when I finally murmur my disbelieving words. “I almost died, and lost my job and apartment.” Forget juggling two jobs, now I don't even have one.

“Is this what they call 'starting over?'” I lean into Fara, head on her shoulder. Scores of buildings pass by in a blur, until my eyes slide shut, and she hugs an arm around my side. The bus rattles around us, my breathing evening out as I wait to see where this all goes...