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Gideon burst into Harrowhark’s room at 10 pm on a Wednesday. “I’m going to kill myself tomorrow,” she said. “I have money. I can blow it all. You can’t change my mind.”
Harrowhark stared up at her from where she was lying on the floor. She had her arms crossed over her stomach, heels gently touching. Corpse pose. Gideon’s voice raised in a manic desperation: “Do you – do you want to do anything?”
“Griddle,” Harrow stared at the ceiling, “it’s nearly midnight. Go find Tridentarius if you want someone to throw away your life with.”
“Shit. Shit,” Gideon paced out of sight. Harrowhark continued in a bored, apathetic lull: “You wouldn’t even get a last hurrah with your handful of change. You’re making unnecessary noise, Griddle, stop stomping. It wouldn’t kill you to not make the last few hours of your life an annoyance.”
Gideon stomped louder. She came back in with a tub of ice cream tucked into her arm, clawing at it with her bare hand. The next few minutes of her newly proclaimed short life were spent sniffling and grasping at frozen vanilla. Eventually enough melted onto her hand for her to lick it stubbornly and slap the remains on Harrow’s cheek.
Harrow gasped, shuddering, “What the fuck is your problem?!”
“What the fuck is yours? You haven’t been doing jack shit- “
“-I was resting-”
“-You have a bed.”
“You have a spoon. ”
“Don’t tell me how to feel. At least I’m doing something with my life. Not killing yourself doesn’t matter when you’re wasting air on the floor instead of doing anything else.” Gideon dug into the ice cream again and hissed.
The ice cream-saliva residue was sticky and had an overwhelming aroma. Harrowhark could feel a strand connecting her right nostril to her cheek. She wanted to rip her skin. She wanted to scrub at her face until everything stung and hit Griddle until she spat at her feet. But there was a heavy magnetism in her limbs that connected her hands to her torso, her heels to the floor, her eyelids too tired to close and risk losing control of the situation she put herself into on purpose.
She stirred the malice in her chest before responding measuredly, “I have a purpose in this world. You may disagree- “
(“-I do,” Gideon muttered, “T’s a miracle how you can be stuck-up and piss pity all over yourself- “)
“But I know I was not born for nothing . I am here by duty, and I disrespect the journey my parents have made to bring me here were I to prioritize something so feeble as feeling bad .”
“That’s why you’re acting dead instead. Got it.” Gideon tried prying Harrow’s lips apart to rub ice cream where she could reach. Harrow did not bite, but she dribbled spit down the side of her mouth where it pooled behind her hair. The buzzing sensation on her skin increased. “Fine. Be like that,” Gideon laid down next to her.
They were silent the entire time Gideon finished her ice cream. She choked down concerning hiccups while they listened to her phone ring in her hands. When it lapsed back into silence Gideon ordered food delivery. Harrow thought about wiggling her fingers while Gideon shuffled over to the door. Harrow imagined her lifeless: Gideon’s hideous car crumpled around her like a wrapping, Gideon with her wrists tucked behind her neck, laid out bleeding a deeper red into her hair. The woman of the hour walked in with a shawarma. Harrow flicked her eyes over to see her for the first time today: Gideon stood with a straight back, her shoulders tense with nervous energy. Her eyes flicked from the windows to the drawers back to her food before her furrowed eyebrows relaxed back into a blissful apathy. She bit into her shawarma and picked the wrapper out from her mouth second. This was her lifeless – anxious, excited, hungry.
“This thing was fifty fuckin’ dollars,” Gideon said to herself. “It’s just okay.”
Harrow waited for her to finish. She watched Gideon check her phone. “It’s half to midnight now. Any last words, Nonagesimus?” Harrowhark flexed her jaw; bit the side of her cheeks. She thought of the crud seeping into her that she would feel until the next morning.
“Where are you going?”
Gideon placed her phone on the dresser. “To show Ianthe a problem to solve.” Harrow didn’t mean it earlier, but it was all too late now.
“You’ll be back.”
“That’s cute. I guess we’ll see in the morning.” Gideon blew her a kiss. “Hope you’re happy, doing whatever the hell you think you’re doing.” She walked out of their home.
Harrow watched the shadows on the ceiling until it mixed with morning.