On a normal day, Jinx would be hanging off the back of you by now. She’s the type of girlfriend to play with your fingers just because she likes touching you, or stare at you while you’re doing mundane things. Little oddities that developed into basic human needs for you to go about your day.

The absence of those little habits festered like mould in your mind.

Jinx lay with her legs curled up to her chest, making herself as small as possible in her unmade bed. In the dark, she couldn’t make out her own body, and it was almost as if she could regress into a collection of particles, rather than a person.

The door clicked open. She knew it was you before you even spoke.

Her voice was hoarse from disuse. “You shouldn’t be here.” The voices reared their ugly heads again, scathing words, words that made her want to tear her brains apart. “It’s not a good day.”