Weigh My Emotional Anchor

I scrambled to pick up the medication.

I swallowed several pills, but they still did nothing.

Suddenly, I remembered what my psychiatrist, Reed Powers, had told me.

"Your body has already developed resistance on the medication. The person you truly rely on for a sense of security is Audrey."

My hand trembled as I reached for my phone and tried to call her.

All I heard was the mechanical message repeating, "No one is available to take your call."

Then I remembered that Damon Walsh didn't like Audrey constantly hovering around me. I tried to calm myself down on my own.

But the moment I sat down on the couch, I spotted a pair of CK boxers wedged between the cushions. They weren't mine.

The images I didn't want to see kept circling through my mind.

My breathing grew more and more difficult. I hurried to open the cabinet for my oxygen tank.

But all I found inside were photographs of Damon and Audrey. There were several of them, and in every one, they were kissing.

My heart pounded violently. I swept the entire stack of framed photos onto the floor.

The shattered glass cut my hand. Drop by drop, blood soaked into the photographs. The mess scattered across the floor suddenly reminded me of how many times Audrey had broken down.

"Preston Hart, what exactly am I supposed to do so you won't have another episode?" She must have been sick of me constantly making a mess of the house.

I hurried to clean everything up.

But after only a couple of steps, the entire room began spinning. A cacophony of terrifying voices seemed to claw at my ears.

I was terrified. Staggering, I hid inside the bedroom closet. Being in an enclosed space could ease my anxiety for a little while.

I missed Audrey so much.

After hesitating for a long time, I called Damon. He'd told me before that I could contact him if I ever needed anything.

One ring. Two...

Damon actually answered. There was loud music in the background, along with the clinking of glasses. I had a vague feeling it was a bar.

"Why do you keep haunting me like this?"

"Damon, I don't feel well... I want to see—"

Audrey snatched the phone away. Her voice was full of impatience. "You're always feeling sick! Can you stop pretending? Can't I even go out with Damon to help him clear his head? Come on. You're twenty-five years old. Can you stop playing these childish games?"

The next second, the call went dead. The faint glow from the screen reflected my face in the darkness, and I looked like I was about to cry.

Audrey was right. I wasn't a child anymore, yet I was constantly dragging her life down with me. I didn't deserve a girlfriend as good as her.

Her coat was right beside me. I took it down and wrapped it around myself. It still smelled exactly the way she had smelled every time she'd held me.

I greedily breathed in the scent of pinewood from the fabric. It was almost as if she were still beside me, comforting me, "I'm here. Don't be afraid."

I don't know how much time passed. I could barely breathe anymore. The last sliver of light disappeared from the gap in the closet door.

I closed my eyes and replayed our time together like a series of flashes.

Maybe my death would be a release for everyone. Audrey would never again have to give up multimillion-dollar projects because of me. Damon wouldn't have to get angry because his childhood friend cared too much about me.

And I wouldn't have to keep pretending in front of Dr. Powers that my condition was getting worse and worse.

I gave up on trying to push the closet door open.

I buried my face in her shirt, as if Audrey had come home and was soothing me to sleep.