Craving a physical connection, I slide my finger along the back of RachelΓ’β¬β’s hand. SheΓ’β¬β’s asleep. Has been for a while. Curled in the fetal position in the middle of my bed, Rachel wears the mask of a ravaged person. Somehow, I missed the signs: dark circles under her eyes, the clothes that once fit perfectly now hang, her skin so pale itΓ’β¬β’s translucent.
β Katie McGarry
asleepisaiahrachel-young