We need to talk

Wrapped in a towel, a freshly bathed Susan entered her room, shuffling her feet slowly. She had spent over half an hour releasing all the tension that had built up during her appointment. She felt relieved that her parents were out—or at least that they hadn’t heard the "concert" she’d put on in the shower.

With her mind finally calm, she collapsed onto the bed, overcome by an exhausting, bone-deep fatigue—both mental and physical.

"Oh, I can’t believe I got hard in front of the doctor... how embarrassing."

As she continued to lament, she turned her head and caught sight of her phone. But instead of seeing the device, her mind conjured the person she could call. It shouldn't be that hard to reach out—to talk to her just like they always used to.

"Just one conversation—if only it were that simple," she murmured, her eyes narrowing lazily.

Her hands trembled—not from the cold water, but from the fear of confronting what had happened that day. She feared the realization that their long-standing friendship had been destroyed, and she feared losing control all over again.

She reached out, but instead of grabbing the phone, she pulled her pillow close, hugging it tightly to drain away her anxiety as she buried her face into it. It felt safer to hide away than to face the truth; perhaps it was cowardly, but for her, it was the best option.

Sleep began to weigh down her eyelids. As they slowly drifted shut, the phone blurred into an indistinct shape before vanishing from sight...

Ring, ring!

The sound jolted her awake so violently that she tossed the pillow to the floor. In a flash, she was on her feet, letting the towel fall away. She spun around, searching for the source of the sudden shock—it was her phone; she was receiving a call. That, in itself, was not a cause for major alarm—it would have been of little consequence—until she read "VANESSA" on the screen, and her world spiraled out of control.

Her breathing grew heavy; her vision blurred so completely that she could no longer make out her own room, and her legs gave way, causing her to collapse to her knees.

Ring, ring, ring!

A new sound from the phone forced her to get back up. She tried to look at the screen, but her unfocused vision made it impossible—though she didn’t need to see it to know who it was.

“Oh no... it’s... it’s her... it’s her.”

At first, she tried to flee, only to find that her legs failed her once again; she ended up sitting on the bed, right next to the source of her panic. Then, she chose to ignore it, hoping the person on the other end would give up.

Ring, ring, ring!

That didn’t happen; the attempts continued. Her mind, acting like an echo chamber, amplified the sound—making it a hundred times louder—until she couldn’t even hear her own thoughts. Only one option remained.

Glancing toward the door, she reached out. Because of her constant trembling, it was difficult to grasp the device; once her fingers finally made contact, they hovered over the phone, careful to avoid touching the screen.

Ring, ring, ring, ring!

In the end, she did it—she pressed the button and waited, saying nothing. A few seconds passed—seconds that felt like an eternity—with silence as the only presence. Just as Susan was about to regret answering, a familiar voice came through.

Hello, Su... the voice sounded almost like a plea. I know you’re there. I... I just want to talk about... what happened.

She didn’t respond; she couldn’t even find the right words in her mind, let alone speak them aloud.

I understand; I know you’re scared, but you should know that I’m not going to judge you... all I want is... to talk, so I can understand you better. And I swear, I won’t tell a soul.

Susan could sense her sincerity on the other end of the line—she wasn’t the type to make such a vow lightly. Even so, her legs didn’t stop trembling.

“Vanessa... I don’t want to talk right now,” she said, her voice cracking.

Something tells me otherwise. This is important.

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to talk... and certainly not over the phone.”

There was another silence on the other end of the line. Susan thought she had given up, but the reality was quite the opposite.

And who said anything about wanting to talk over the phone?

Knock, knock, knock.

Upon hearing the sound at the front door, she knew exactly who it was.

Come on, Su—open the door. We need to talk.