Twenty-three.

Madison Bell hadn’t had a Dark Day in over a week. I liked to think I was the reason, but there was no evidence of that. Spring felt like it was coming early, with all the snow having melted long ago and the dandelions popping up in the school’s baseball field. But it was barely March. Conference season was over - I’d have to wait until June to get more material. Of course, these days, I didn’t have much time for editing anyway.

One Friday, Madison let me sit in on her Little Day. We had a lot of fun watching movies and coloring in her coloring books. She wore a soft sweater that came down over her hands and covered most of her pajama shorts. The question of sippy cups was quickly answered. I made us pasta for dinner.

It was strange sometimes, because Madison would act genuinely unlike a sixteen year old girl. Her words happened faster than her thoughts and every so often she’d get stuck in the middle of a sentence. She always held something against her chest in a hug, whether it was a pillow or a blanket or a stuffed animal. After only a few minutes of watching the movie, she slipped off the sofa onto the floor and would hit my leg whenever she wanted me to pay particular attention.

And other times, she was as Madison as ever. She talked constantly about every thought that came into her head. She had really articulate, insightful ideas. She colored in the lines with pinpoint precision and shaded the edges where there would be shadows. It was like when Madison went into little girl mode, she didn’t lose anything that made her Madison Bell.

I thought it would feel like babysitting, but it didn’t. It wasn’t very different to any other day. Madison was a little more forward, more decisive, more demanding. She knew what she wanted; it actually made her easier to handle! She wasn’t afraid to tell me things. She wasn’t encumbered with embarrassment or anxiety. There was no right or wrong choice, only hers and not hers. I would do things like make dinner and refill her juice, but Madison didn’t ask much of me. The biggest thing she wanted was my attention.

But the most radical change in Madison was one I had taken for granted the first time I treated her like a kid: she absolutely adored being touched. Usually I couldn’t so much as brush Madison’s arm without her pulling away, but when she was little it was a completely different story. She played with my fingers and held onto my shirt, just to feel connected to me. She took my hand and put it on her head or in her hair or against her cheek. She shuffled into me and leaned against me.

Sometime late in the evening, when she was curled up against my chest and my finger drew circles on her back, I took the initiative to push my lips against her forehead. My lips, her skin. Everything radiated warmth and all the colors bled brightness. Madison exhaled and melted into me, but by then I had melted into everything about her. For a second, just one, we were a puddle of person, rather than people ourselves.

Together, the word rang in my head.

Two days later, inevitability struck like lightning in a storm.

<< Polly wants to go to the mall. Thoughts?

<< I have a huge umbrella so the rain isn’t a big deal.

<< We don't have to go obviously.

<< You alright?

<< Madison?

<< Dark Day?

<< Madison Elizabeth you answer me right now young lady!!

That usually worked…

<< It’s been three hours, I’m coming over.

I pounded on her door. I was still holding the umbrella open, even though the roof covered the front porch. It was Sunday - her parents should be home, right? I’d only met her dad a few times, but her mom was sometimes here on the weekends. I kept knocking. There was no answer.

<< I am downstairs.

<< I’m not going home until someone opens this door.

<< I am going to catch a cold in this rain.

<< Madison… please talk to me

Fuck. I kept knocking. No one answered.

I went around to the side of the house, holding the umbrella up over my head to shelter myself from the rain. Of course, as I trudged along the grass, my shoes started to soak through. I finally found the window facing the back fence - Madison’s window. I picked up a pebble from the dirt at my feet and threw it at the glass. I heard a light ‘tink’. Lightning cracked and I almost jumped out of my skin.

My heart was racing when I tossed the second pebble at the window, and another crack of lightning came as I tossed the third. I don’t know how many rocks I threw, but every time I escalated the size of the rock I was afraid it would smash right through the glass. Finally, I saw a flicker in the window and the curtains were pulled open. Madison. I waved the umbrella and she disappeared from the window.

I ran round the house to the front door just as Madison opened it and I pushed myself inside. Madison looked at me blankly, with quiet eyes, and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” I countered.

“It’s off.”

“Dark Day?”

She shrugged.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

She shrugged again.

“I’m supposed to be helping you through these days, you know,” I said softly, trying to steady my anxiety. Honestly, she had scared me…

“Nothing to be done.” She turned and walked back up the stairs. I reached for her wrist, but she pulled it back so hard she actually fell backwards onto the staircase. I hesitated, three steps down from where she fell.

“Sorry,” I muttered, but she didn’t say anything. She got back to her feet and went up the stairs again. She was wearing pajama pants and that gray zip-up. Her hair wasn’t curled. Was she like this last night?

I took off my shoes and followed her up to her room, but by the time I got there, Madison had already crawled back into bed. Great…

“Why won’t you talk to me about this? You told me last time.”

Last time had been about her mom. Madison would get thoughts that filled her up with bad feelings and poured out all the good ones. “You’re bothering everyone.” “No one cares what you have to say.” “You’re a bad person.” “You can’t do anything right.” One, persisting, constant sentence, sucking the color out of everything. But which one was it this time? I crawled into Madison’s bed.

“You know you aren’t bothering me, right?” I reminded her. “I want to help. I like helping.”

She didn’t answer. She was facing away from me, at the wall.

“Did you do something wrong? Nobody’s perfect. It’s okay to make mistakes.”

No response. Not even a shrug, not even a twitch. I didn’t understand…

“Madison? Please. I can help.”

“No,” she said quietly, harshly, like the drop of a marble on a table. “You can’t.”

“Let me try.”

Madison returned to silence and I put my back against the headboard. What was the right thing to do?

“We can watch a Disney movie? I’ll get you some juice and you can show me one of your nice dresses you keep talking about.”

The quiet in the room was deafening.

“Do you have other little things you don’t show me? I looked up a lot of stuff online about it, so I was just wondering. I’d love to know more about it. And I can make us some cookies or pick up a Happy Meal from McDonalds. I know they have My Little Pony toys right now, or Avengers ones, I think? It’s not Polly Pocket but—”

“Stop.”

Her voice was unmistakable, quiet and desperate. She was crying. Damnit…

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Please just stop, please stop… I cant do this…”

I hesitated at another word, at talking again, but I couldn’t sit here and watch her tremble like that. I couldn’t leave her be when I knew she was crying…

“I’m going to hug you,” I told her, and did just that. I scooted in next to her, under her blanket, until my body was right up against hers. I set my arm down on top of hers, but her shoulder twitched. She shoved me away, putting a foot of space between us, and almost fell out of the bed. Then I remembered the last time she did that. I remembered something else, too…

“Madison,” I muttered, quieter than I think I had ever spoken to anyone. She didn’t answer. I didn’t want her to answer, because I knew the answer already. I didn’t even want to ask.

“Madison, are you hurt?”