Emotional Mess (Sweets)

Crystal Bibbins

Is this what hell feels like?

If hell felt anything like this, then it was ample motivation for Sweets not to go; not that she had planned on going, anyway. She sat in class, head resting heavily in her hand, as her English teacher droned on about logical fallacies. He was trying to get the class engaged and was only rewarded with a loud, awkward silence before he cleared his throat and continued. It wasn’t his fault; nobody wanted to identify red herrings in a stuffy classroom on a Friday afternoon.

Sweets sighed and fought to stay awake. She was caught in this torturous cycle of glancing up at the clock for a few moments before her eyes wandered and fluttered shut. Then she had to resist the sweet feeling of resting her eyes from the ugly mustard yellow walls and pry them back open. She wanted nothing more than for the class to be over, yet the hands on the clock showed no mercy. As her eyes drifted shut yet again, she was startled awake by a loud chime and harsh vibration from her phone resting on the table. Her eyes darted toward her teacher, who seemed just as flustered. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and asked that all phones be silenced. A flood of embarrassment washed over Sweets as she checked the notification.

We need to talk.

It was from Aideen. Sweets sat up and placed her phone face down on the table; suddenly, the class seemed a lot more bearable. As she answered questions about argumentative elements, a sense of dread filled her body. What could she possibly have done to prompt a text that sounded so hostile? The dorm was a bit messier than normal, but Sweets had been meaning to clean up for the past couple of weeks. Other than that, she hadn’t really been around. This was bad. Sweets couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and that scared her. She rubbed a sweaty palm on her bouncing leg and tried to focus; she was wide awake now and didn’t care if she was essentially carrying on a conversation with the teacher.

The class ended all too soon, and Sweets scrambled to find an excuse to stay longer. It was futile. Any further conversation with her teacher would come around to the work she was missing, and she had no intention of having that discussion. Sweets took her time packing her things and walked as slowly as she dared back to her dorm. The large trees and pond shimmering with sunlight failed to capture her attention this time, as she tried to talk down the surging waves of fear. By the time she reached the door, she was relatively calm and resolved to hear what Aideen had to say without crying. After all, how much hostility could honestly be put in a text message?

Sweets opened the door, and all her resolve was blasted away by a whirlwind of anger. Aideen was yelling and gesturing wildly, horribly red in the face.

“It isn’t fair!” she yelled. “It isn’t right for you to just run off and be gone all day, leaving me to take care of all the chores, knowing damn well we’ll both be fined if we fail room inspections! You might have the money for it, but I’m barely scraping by, even with all my scholarships, scholarships that I’m at risk of losing any day now because I can’t f—king sleep. It’s hard enough as it is, and then there’s you, stumbling in at 3 am, dropping keys and sh—, thinking you’re being quiet. Just as I’m finally, finally, about to drift off after hours of struggling, BAM, you’ve pushed my sleep schedule back another 12 hours. My routine is f—ked because of your bumbling around like some lost, idiotic child, leaving me to pick up the slack.”

Sweets didn’t even get the chance to start processing before Aideen grabbed her by the wrist. She followed mindlessly as she was led to their room.

“Look at this! It’s a goddamn pigsty! You look like you’re living in a trash heap! You want me to treat you like an adult, but you haven’t done a single thing to deserve it! It’s a miracle we don’t have bugs yet, because this is f—king disgusting. It’s disgusting, and you need to get your sh— together.”

So that’s what this was about. A feeling of shame rose within Sweets as she observed her side of the room. Her bed was a mess, with pillows strewn haphazardly. The desk was covered in a mass of crumpled papers and used dishes, and you couldn’t even sit in the chair because of the pile of clothes threatening to topple over at any moment. She glanced over at Aideen, who glared with her piercing green eyes.

“Clean it up,” she said, her voice laced with disgust. “You might be okay with it, but I’m not, and the school won’t be, either."

Sweets fixed her eyes on the ground and struggled to hold back her tears. It never worked, but she could at least hold it until she was by herself. She forced a small smile and nodded. Yes, she was listening. Yes, she understood. Yes, she would do as told and stave off the sense of disappointment for as long as possible, until she inevitably messed up again. Sweets looked Aideen in the face and forced herself to speak. “You’re right,” she said, mentally pushing the words out of her mouth. It took a lot of effort, but staying silent in a moment like this would only frustrate Aideen even more. “I’ll clean it up. Just give me a second.”

It was getting harder to keep from crying, so Sweets made her way to the bathroom and closed the door softly behind her. She inhaled deeply and let out a shuddering sigh as the tears slid down her face. Despite her attempts to keep quiet, she began hiccupping, which made her break down even more. She cursed the bathroom ventilation for being so quiet. The one at home was much louder and perfect for moments like this. Sweets thought that she would have mastered silent crying by now, but it seemed to be yet another thing she failed at.

She sat on the toilet and waited for her emotional wounds to heal. She closed her eyes and envisioned her body emanating light in a gentle shade of purple. The body of light was riddled with cracks, and Sweets waited for the jagged black lines to merge and close, leaving tender scars. As soon as it seemed she could function without reopening the wounds and bursting into tears, Sweets stood and left the bathroom. It was time to clean.

With a focused mindset, it was as if a wall was set up surrounding Sweets and the task she set out to do. Her brain processed just enough to move smoothly and shut out anything deemed irrelevant. But while the mental wall shut out her external environment, it could not prevent a rotating string of thoughts from flitting to and fro, providing background noise as she cleaned.

Aideen was right. She can see right through this innocent and naïve act you put up. You might be able to fool everyone else, but she will always know how fake you are.

Sweets placed the last clean dish in the rack and wiped down the counter.

You’ve stressed her out and turned her into a control freak because you’re too lazy to pick up after yourself. You’re a bad friend and a horrible roommate.

The contents of the dustpan were emptied into the trash.

You’re a child, a spoiled brat. A complete embarrassment to those who have to put up with you.

Trash was thrown in the dumpster.

You’re such a wreck.

Floors vacuumed.

You can’t do anything right.

Desk cleaned.

Why can’t you just be normal?

Clothes folded.

“Really, Saccharin?”

Wait. That thought wasn’t hers. Sweets looked up, as an item was snatched out of her hand.

“What the hell are you doing?” Aideen looked at Sweets, frustrated and confused about something. But what?

The window. Sweets had detached the window in order to clean both sides. Was that too far? Did the windows not need to be cleaned, or was she not cleaning it right? She looked at Aideen, desperate for an answer.

Instead, Aideen just rolled her eyes and sighed. “Here, put this back.” She gave the windowpane back to Sweets.

Sweets reattached the window and looked at Aideen expectantly.

“Look,” Aideen started, “I suppose I didn’t have to yell at you the way I did, but you didn’t have to do that.” She gestured to the window. “That was ridiculous. Anyways, all I’m asking is that you keep things clean around here. Don’t ever let it get like that again. I know you aren’t around very often anymore, but you deserve a better space than that.”

No you don’t, she’s just saying that. You know it’s bad when even Aideen is trying to make you feel better.

Did she really mean it? Honestly, it didn’t matter. Sweets didn’t have the mental energy to overthink this. She sighed, letting go of the subject. “You’re right,” she said. “I’ll try to do better from now on.”

Aideen looked relieved. “Well, I suppose you should go now. I know you’ve got class soon.”

Sweets had actually forgotten about the class but wasn’t going to turn down an excuse to leave. She gathered her things and went off in search of a spot for a proper cry and a nap.

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