darker_london | Poor ill Jude

Jude’s day after Renee’s death were spent in a constant state of confusion and numbness. Hours passed her by uncounted and she would find herself places she had no intention of being. She would leave her own mind to its delusions and prayers to an unlistening and unbelieved in God, and when she returned against she failed to understand how she gotten herself into this mess. She drifted in a state of ghost like unreality between Morgan’s tiny dorm room and her father’s empty house, never knowing which of them she was aiming for.

When did you cut your hair?

She had come rushing back to herself with that and frowned. What?

They’d been sitting at the dining room table, her father and she, and there had been food sitting in front of both of them. I asked when you cut your hair.

Before I died.

He hadn’t make any reaction and she wasn’t sure whether she had even spoken at all. Jude wasn’t sure now if a word had ever passed between the two of them. How long had she been sitting there?

Morgan wanted to take her to the doctor. You’ve got a bad fever, Jude. You’re sick. But Jude was stronger and Morgan couldn’t stop her from going anywhere. She hoped the fire that burned her skin would engulf her. She wondered if it would be long until she joined Renee.