Meagan stared down at her desk. Her focus moved beyond the assignment in front of her without actually seeing what she was looking toward. There were lines, spaces of white, and blobs of writing, but nothing seemed important enough to consider closely. Truthfully she didn’t care.

She didn’t feel the need to focus.

Her gaze slowly moved up to the front of the classroom, and again she fixated on a point past what was before her. She didn’t concentrate on the teacher. There was a face, a moving mouth, but she didn’t connect it with the sounds struggling slowly, like sticky sludge past her ears. She didn’t hear the instructions being uttered; each word fell on deaf ears as she mindlessly doodled.

Twisting her hair around her finger, she thought about how nice it would be to be at home, in bed, with the curtains closed instead of in this loud and hyper school. It seemed her classmates had recently started caring too much about what was going on around them. There was too much drama, too much noise, too much concern jumping all around her. It was all so taxing.

It was such a bother.

Meagan, in contrast, was usually in a world of her own. Her head felt fuzzy most of the time, and unless she used a lot of energy, most conversations sounded muffled, like there was cotton in her ears. She didn’t feel the need to engage anymore. Her desire to try so hard just to do what had once come easily had dwindled to nothing. At first she’d tried, but not now. Not anymore. It had become too difficult to care.

And that was her biggest problem. Meagan didn’t care much about any of these changes. She was fine walking through school without any effort. Her feet felt a little heavier as each day passed, and her head felt a little more under pressure of a crushing fog that numbed her, but she pushed through it all. She didn’t mind neglecting what used to bring her excitement. In fact, it was just easier not to give a crap.

Everything was distinctly lackluster these days.

****

She was startled by a loud cough and her focus snapped back up. Several of her classmates were looking toward her, and so was her teacher. Others were looking down with embarrassment for her.

“Meagan?”

Yep, she had definitely missed something. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear the question.”

These were the only times Meagan cared about her inattention. Her cheeks warmed, and her blood pressure spiked. Flustered, she glanced to her fingers, fidgeting and twisting around each other in her lap.

“Please pay better attention.” There was no anger in her voice, but Meagan did detect a note of disappointment.

“Okay.” She didn’t add anything else.

There was nothing to add anyway. She didn’t apologize because, honestly, she wasn’t sorry she hadn’t been listening. Embarrassment in getting caught was the only reason to be sorry. And she hadn’t been doing anything worth using as an excuse. So she kept her lips buttoned and tried to make it through the rest of class.

****

She shuffled to her locker with a limited burst of enthusiasm, but it was only due to the understanding that the school day was over and she could go home to sit alone.

“Hi!”

Meagan’s excitement immediately deflated as if a pin had pricked a hole into its thin and delicate structure.

“Do you want to hang out this weekend?”

Sarah, her longtime friend, bounced on her toes next to Meagan’s locker with a genuine smile that reached her eyes, adding a sparkle. Meagan didn’t know the last time her own smile had touched her eyes. Had it ever? She couldn’t remember anymore.

She didn’t want to make plans with anyone, even Sarah. Every time she did, she would cancel them last minute. Just the thought of going out in public, even to do something as simple as shopping, exhausted Meagan before she had the chance to leave the house. Her stomach got queasy and her eyes felt puffy when she was supposed to be with others but needed to be alone. These reactions were happening more and more, which was why she was spending so much time in just her own company. And though no one had said anything yet, Meagan suspected a few of her close friends had begun to notice her continued absence.

Or maybe they hadn’t. Maybe they didn’t care.

It was possible no one ever cared.

“Umm… yeah, I probably can.” Meagan agreed to it, with a noted lack of interest, so she would not have to face the criticism or disappointment on Sarah’s face if she declined. But Meagan would most likely cancel later, over instant message or on the phone, when she wasn’t looking directly at Sarah. It was always easier to be a disappointment when you didn’t have to see the look of it.

“Great! We haven’t hung out in… I don’t even know how long. Forever!”

Sarah’s cheerful tone began to grate against Meagan’s nerves. She felt the sudden urge to get away before she said or did something she would regret. The abrupt anger startled her. Sarah had done nothing wrong. Meagan probably just needed to go home and nap.

“Okay, well, call me. I gotta go.” Meagan spun around and headed to the bus that would take her to her comfortable world alone at home. There she could relax, and no one would care or notice her inability to care.