The Last 30 Days [Inactive]

"G'night." Isabelle mumbled sleepily. She pulled the white duvet up to her nose and let out a long content sigh.


Tomorrow they'd take the long drive home. Maybe she'd apologize to her aunt, go home. Maybe she'd stick around with Blake. Maybe both, or neither. It was all up in the air now.
 
Blake murmured a reply, rolling over to face Isabelle. He was tired, but not yet tired enough to close his eyes and sleep next to his girlfriend. He wasn't used to sleeping normal hours, it was getting easier each night but still his brain was accustomed to reading hours on end and then sleeping a few hours before reading all day again.


The silence allowed Blake to really think things through. At the moment he was thinking about Isabelle. Not specifically her, but more her life and her relationships. She hadn't spoken to her family in a while and it worried him. It wasn't healthy to exclude yourself like that. After nearly an hour of thoughts, he drifted off to sleep.
 
Sunday, May 3rd:


It was all too easy to pack up and go. They came with little, and erased their presence from the beach. When the truck was gone from the sandy lot, it was like they hadn't even come. The waves kept on rolling, crashing on the shore, and so life went on. Isabelle stared for as long as she could out the window until the sun hurt her eyes and she had to pull out her sunglasses to get a good look.


Heading back was hard though. She still hadn't decided what she was going to do when she got home. Her mother was surely looking for her, and her aunt was most likely furious beyond words. Isabelle would have to go home at some point, at least to say goodbye. She knew that. But it was a hard problem to tackle with her mother around. Two steps in her direction meant a slap tot he face, and a new attempt to drag her home and lock her up. That wasn't what she wanted, not at all.


She slid down in her seat and rested her head against the window. Always cool against her face, she pressed her cheek against the glass until she felt satisfied. Isabelle was still tired, even after sleeping hard through the night. She supposed it was because of the tumor, it took a toll on her.


Isabelle suddenly panicked. With the ocean still in view she turned to Blake and blurted. "Stop, I forgot to do something!" One item on her list, prepackaged and sitting in her bag. She waited for the car to stop.
 
The sudden words scared him and he slammed on the brakes, throwing them both onto their seatbelts. "Jesus Christ, Isabelle! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" With heavy breathing, Blake pulled over onto the side of the road. "Okay, what is it you forgot?" It better be important, he grumbled to himself.
 
Isabelle sheepishly reached into the back seat to rummage through her bag until she found what she was looking for. A plain, glass bottle, that she'd picked up ever since she'd wanted to go to the ocean. Inside was a curled up note, written only a few days prior when she realized her ocean dream was a reality.


"I'll be right back." She said, exiting the car and quickly scurrying to the ocean again. Isabelle swung her arm hard and released the bottle into the water, watching for a minute as it floated away.


When she got back in the car she felt a little guilty for making him stop so suddenly. She reached over and kissed his cheek in an apologetic way. Isabelle whispered in his ear, "Sorry. We can go now."
 
While Isabelle was gone to throw the bottle in the ocean, Blake considered how damaging this was for the earth and if by chance the bottle were to break, how many poor sea animals would swallow the glass and die. The sound of the truck door opening snapped Blake back to earth and he quickly pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He didn't want to accidentally say something offensive to Isabelle, and although he thought the idea was a bit childish it meant something to Isabelle and he wouldn't ruin that for her.


"It was not a problem," he replied, smiling in reply to the kiss. He started driving again, wriggling around in his seat to get into a more upright position. "What did the note say?" he asked, wondering if she had written an email address in hopes of getting a response.
 
Isabelle's eyes shifted towards the window as her face filled with an all familiar blush. She'd written quite a bit, actually, and some of it was about her time with Blake. But, she didn't want to admit it, for fear of how silly it sounded.


"Nothing really." She stuttered. "I mean, there's something, obviously, just nothing terribly interesting." Her hands danced in front of her as she talked, trying to dismiss the note entirely. She'd written all about her dangerous tumor, and about the boy who came into her life, changing it all. Admitting it now was embarrassing. Isabelle wasn't sure if he'd take it as strange, or complimentary.
 
Blake nodded while she talked, keeping his eyes on the road. Only a few cars past them, old models probably heading towards the small town.


"Are you familiar with the word sonder?" he asked, still thinking of her letter and the few cars passing them. "It's the realization that the people around you are living a life as vivid as yours, with their own thoughts and emotions. Maybe your message in a bottle will remind someone of other's lives."
 
"Sonder." Isabelle repeated. The word didn't sound at all familiar. "I would like that, though. If someone found it, that would be amazing."


She had her own problems, friendships, her life was unique. Trying to wrap her head around the word, which described how every other person in the word felt the same emotions. It was difficult to say the least. Even sitting next to Blake, trying to imagine that he had his own vivid life, it was admittedly hard.


Isabelle casually reached her hand across the seat and placed it on Blake's leg. She wanted to be close, even if he had to drive. She leaned back against the seat, letting her eyes droop shut.


"That's a lovely word."
 
"I know lots of lovely words," he said kind of proudly, lists of them running through his head. "One of my favourite words is commiserage. The anger someone has when others don't share the same pain they do." It was a form of jealousy and most people didn't even realize they felt it, although there probably weren't very many people who knew of the word.
 
Isabelle laughed at the word. "And then when they only get more upset." Indeed, he knew many things, not surprisingly. "How many times have you read the dictionary then?"
 
Blake's eyes widened and he stared in horror at Isabelle for a second before sighing and saying, "Only once, okay? And it was the summer after high school graduation when I had nothing to do but wait for my college courses. I like to say that it was in preparation for my English classes."
 
She giggled. Of course he's read it, at least the one time.





"That's funny." Isabelle snickered. "You know how many people read it? Not as many as you think."
 
"Okay, but what else was I supposed to do? It was before I had my wonderful library all set up and I was bored out of my mind... and I didn't have you to entertain me," he added slyly, winking.
 
Isabelle jerked her hand away from Blake, blushing again. "Blake!" She whined. "There w-were other books, and." There was always a way to fluster poor Isabelle.


She shifted herself so it was easier to stare out the window. The ocean was gone now, much to her disliking. Thick forests replaced the ocean view, eventually turning to long highways with many other cars, and a bright sun to glare down on it all.


"Let's go bowling soon." Isabelle suggested.
 
"Sure," he said, driving faster to pass a blue Honda. "We can go tomorrow. I was thinking that today we could find a dance place, and," he said this with a bit of hesitation which he hoped wasn't too evident, "go visit some people."
 
Isabelle stiffened. If he meant Aunt Judy or his mom, she might have thrown a fit with any other person. "Who?"


She was scared to go back, to see the family she'd been hiding from. What would they say to her? Would they be angry? Of course they would, she reasoned, Isabelle had practically run away. They had no idea if she was alive or not.
 
Blake coughed, trying to buy himself some time. "Well, friends and maybe..." he paused, sucked in a breath and muttered, "Isabelle it's not right that you just left your parents like that and I think it would be better if you at least went to see them for fifteen minutes just to say that you are all right. I'll be there with you if things get too heated."
 
Isabelle closed her eyes and let out a long, shaky breath. Judith would be easy enough. Not her parents, not them though.


"Please don't make me." She begged him. "I can visit Judy, no problem, but my mother? She'll beat me over the head with the first thing she can grab! She hates me."


The girl didn't know what she did to make her mother so angry with her, not really. It was most likely due to the stress of losing her first child, only to find out the second would die, but she'd snapped. There weren't kind words left for her only living child. Only anger, frustration.
 
With one hand on the wheel, Blake lifted his other hand and ran it down his face. "Then just go see Judy. If your parents are there, ignore them. Who knows," he mumbled bitterly, "Maybe they'll act like sophisticated human beings if I'm there with you."
 
She was acting like a child, and she knew it. Isabelle pressed her head against the window. "Alright. I'll go see Judy."


Isabelle kept quiet for the drive now. She wasn't angry with Blake for making her go, but she was frustrated with herself for letting it get so out of hand. The least she could've done was call her aunt to make sure she was still breathing.
 
Blake didn't disturb the silence. His thoughts, although slightly filled with guilt, kept him busy while he drove the long way home. His eyes were droopy by the time he pulled into his apartment's driveway. He rest a second with his head against the steering wheel. "Alright, let's unpack," he said with a gruff voice, climbing out of the truck.
 
Isabelle nodded, making sure her glasses were on her face. It helped hide how upset she was knowing they'd soon go visit Judy. She hopped out of the truck, only wobbling a few steps once she hit the solid earth.


She pulled out two of their bags and hauled them to the front door, not having a key, to wait for Blake.


"When are we going over?" She asked, wanting to get it over and done with.
 
"Whenever you're up for it," he replied, grabbing the rest of the bags. He carried them to the door, unlocked it and brought them into the kitchen. "We can go right now or we can laze around."
 
"Let's just get it over with." Isabelle grumbled, uncharacteristically upset. Usually chipper and carefree, being agitated didn't suit the girl's face.


She set the bags down next to his in the kitchen and stood awkwardly with her hands crossed over her chest. It wasn't going to be fun, no, and more likely than not Isabelle would spend a lot of time by herself. She felt bad. She'd abandoned them, and she knew she deserved to be yelled at. It didn't make going any less stressful.
 
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