I stared at the note in disbelief. Instead of giving me a warning or just waiting three more months until I left, she decided to move out when she knew I would be gone? I ran upstairs and found $300 slipped under my door. That wasn’t even enough to cover one-third of rent. I began to panic. How would I be able to afford the next three months of rent on my own? I was barely able to pay now. I couldn’t move into a smaller place, either; my name was on the lease, which ended a month before I graduated in May. Leah had told me when we moved in that “We could extend the lease for another month once it got closer. Those are the perks of living in a college town.”
I was moving in three months from now, and I had barely saved up enough money for a security deposit in what would likely be a tiny, shitty apartment in California.
What the fuck was I going to do?
I picked up my phone and clicked Leah’s name, ready to give her a piece of my mind. The phone rang once, barely, then went straight to voicemail. Did she actually block me? I pulled up Facebook, then Snapchat, then Instagram. No sign of her anywhere. She had blocked me on everything.
I collapsed on my bed and let all of the tears I’d been trying to hold back today fall. I choked out sobs, unable to stop now, and curled up in the fetal position, letting everything out. I had no friends here. Damien and Alex didn’t want me for anything more than sex, and now, not even that. My parents weren’t, and would never again be, a part of my life. I had accepted that a long time ago, but it still hurt to think that I had no family to give a shit about me. And now, I didn’t have enough money to even live in my own apartment until I moved. This was the final straw to screw me over entirely. Sobs wracked my body, broken only by desperate gasps for air.
Every time I thought I might be done crying, the severity of my situation hit me again, and the pain and panic returned.
I was lost now. Lost, and completely and utterly alone.