The whole story.... so far

When You’re Gone
The bus jerked to a stop right in front of my house. I scrambled out of there as fast as I could. Nobody cool rode the bus, and I had the pleasure of sitting next to one of the most obnoxious people ever. I mean, there were about 20 other seats open, and he had to sit next to me.
I fished out the house key from my bag and shouted, “I’m home!”, though it was all in vain. Nobody else was there. It was weird, my dad was always home. Dropping my bag I noticed that there was a note sticking to the fridge. I grabbed it, read it and immediately teared up.
There was a good reason why I had to take that filthy bus, but that didn’t matter right now. I dialed in my mom’s work number, and talked with her. What I managed to choke out was enough to make her worried. Even though she couldn’t get out of work early, she tried to get home as early as she could.
My dad had always been one to never show his feelings or problems. That probably is why he ended up in the hospital. As hard as I tried not to cry, I did.
I tried to remember that morning, when I last saw him. He dropped me off at school. I always watched to make sure he at least got on the main road safely. He always seemed to carry himself with pride.
That night when I lay down in bed, I kept thinking about how I missed the signs. I tried to imagine that everything was going to be OK. I tried to remember some good times. All I hoped was that my dad missed me.
The next morning, I barely heard my alarm go off. My nightstand was a mess, as usual. Fumbling around for the snooze button, I realized it was Saturday. Not only was I angry that I had woken up so early, but that I had no where to go.
I skipped breakfast and did something I never did; I went into my parent’s room. I was surprised, it was messy. I decided to do something nice and pick up a little bit. It seriously looked like there was a struggle in there.
The more I picked up, the more I realized I really did miss my dad. I would’ve called the hospital, but didn’t for fear that I would have my heart broken. I did, however, call the only one of my friends who would be up this early.
I’m not sure how long we actually talked, or even if anything I said made sense. The moment he picked up, I was crying. He didn’t know what was going on, but, he came over and just talked. Neither of us could count the number of hugs there that day, or just how much we really relied on the other for support.
No matter how hard I tried, I just could not pick up the phone to call the hospital. It was impossible.
That day must’ve been a day of change. I did something else I swore I would never do. I always thought those “cutters” at my school needed a better way to figure things out. I told myself I would always cry it out; I would never cause myself bodily harm, ever. What was worse than the “cutters”? That one girl who burnt herself. She told me the first time was purely accidental. Then, whenever she had a horrible day, she’d always say, “I’m going to burn myself today.” Or, if it was the day after, “I burnt myself last night” sometimes it was, “I almost burnt myself last night”
My mom was set home any minute when I was in the bathroom. The day had been unbearable, as far as just not crying went. It seemed like everything I did had some connection with my dad. I had a razor in my hand; I gripped it so tightly that my hand turned white. I was hesitant to actually put pressure and drag the blade across my wrist.
When I heard the grumbling sound of the garage opening, I did it. Contrary to what the other “cutters” told me, the metal was not all that cold. I wouldn’t go as far to that it was warm, either.
I watched as the blood flowed out as the blade passed over the skin. A sudden knock at the door told me that my mom wanted to see me. I hid the blade and stuck my arm behind my back. “Hi” I said while opening the door.
“Hey, honey. How was your day?” she asked.
“Ok, I guess.” I shrugged
“What’d you do?”
“Nothing really. I talked with some friends. Ate. Did homework.” I lied about the last part. By now the pain was searing through my arm, but pretended that nothing was wrong. “So, is that it?” I asked, desperately wanting to tend to washing off my arm.
My mom smiled, as if she was very satisfied. “Sure.” And she went to silence the tea kettle.
I sighed, closed and locked the door. Most of my forearm was covered in blood. Taking a damp cloth, I washed it all off. I knew that someone was going to notice sooner or later. As I was bandaging my arm, I winced at the pain; it was sore. If the “cutters” were anything to go by, it would get easier with time. For some reason, I felt satisfied. Maybe nothing was solved, but, I felt better. Like something was in my control. Quickly, I pulled a baggy sweatshirt on and happily ate dinner with my mom.

Devastation and Reform
I was caught; I knew it would happen someday, so it took a couple of weeks, it still surprised me that someone noticed. I chose the wrong day to wear short-sleeves. He just had to catch sight of my wrists and wonder. “How did this happen?” he asked, even though we both knew the answer.
I just shook my head, “I really don’t know. I always told myself this would never be the answer to anything, it just happened!” “Oh no, there is a reason. Tell me right now.” He sounded like he was pleading.
“I’ve got enough problems. I don’t need you to become one right now.” I retorted, and then realized how stupid I sounded.
He just looked at me, “How am I becoming the problem?” he asked.
“When you get into the problems I have, then you become part of them. It’s as simple as that.” I told him softly.
He gave me that doubting look, “Sure. Why not just make up something totally ridiculous!” he threw his hands up into the air, trying to make a point.
“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that, it’s impossible to get anyone to understand. You do not know how many friendships have just been destroyed.” I half pleaded with him. It was true, once my friends saw that I started to hang out the cutters, they didn’t want anything to do with me. They said good bye and left. Good riddance, I thought.
“So maybe I don’t. That’s doesn’t mean you can’t tell me. And, it looks like I’m the only one trying to get you to stop this.” He pointed to my arms.
I shook my head in despair, “No. You are not the only one. I can’t tell you. I’ve tried too many times to phrase it in a good way. All I can say is; everyone needs to get out of my life, and fast.”
He looked somewhat shocked, “No. Neither I, nor will anybody else, get out of your life. We care too much.” He stepped closer and enveloped me in a hug.
Try as I might, he would not let me go. “I brought this on myself.” I whispered.
“You did not bring this on yourself. Life happens.” He told me and let me go. “Don’t you worry. Everything will work out for the best.” He tried to comfort me.
The way he said that just made everything feel better. I knew that it wasn’t even close to being solved, but, I think I figured out how to solve it. Smiling I said, “Thank you”
I hadn’t resolved anything; I knew that I was going to cut again. I didn’t tell him this. I mean, he thought he knew what I was going through. I refused to believe that. It could not be possible. No one could possible know what it was like.
Sure, I had started to bond with my fellow cutters. They had reasons, like I did. So maybe it wasn’t the best way to solve our problems, but it worked for the time being. Nothing made you feel more free or excited when the blade made the initial cut.
He looked me in the eye, “Are you sure about that? It seems like this was solved a little too quickly.”
Dang it. I knew I had been caught. I shifted my weight, “I’m sure” I said half-heartily.
He pursed his lips, “Mmmhmmm. Sure.” He looked at me skeptically.
As I opened my mouth to tell him off, a car pulled up to the curb. It was my mom, since I protested to taking the bus home after school everyday she deiced to pick me up one day a week. “Bye” I said grimly and got into the car.
He narrowed his eyes, “This is not over.” He told me sternly, and griped onto my arm, as if to make a point.

Numb

When we got home, I started working on my homework on the kitchen table. As I worked, I heard my mom start a little dinner. I thought that it was ok to work on a story that I had started during study hall. Little did I know, my mom looked over my shoulder, “What is that?” she asked.
Scrambling to get my books together, I said, “Nothing”
“No, it was something,” she insisted.
“No, it was nothing!”
“It was something” she said in a sing-song voice, then added, “Was it part of that story” she sounded disgusted, “that you’ll never make money off of?”
I slammed the books down on the counter, “Mom!” I protested, “We have had this fight a million times over! Just let me be!”
“Don’t you want to be successful in life? Isn’t that what everyone wants?” my mom asked innocently.
“Yeah, I do want to be successful, in my own way! Not in the way you’re forcing on me. Do you really want me to turn out like you?”
“Well, not exactly like me, but, I really want that you take you life somewhere good.”
I scoffed at this, “Uh, hello! I am doing something with my life!”
I took my books and began walking out of the kitchen. My mom, however, didn’t think that the conversation was over yet.
“Doing what? Do you plan to support yourself by writing all this nonsense?” she picked up a loose paper that fell.
“It’s not nonsense! If you ever paid attention to me, you’d know that this,” I snatched the paper from her hand, “Is the most important thing to me.” I stormed off, walking up the stairs with loud thuds.
My mom couldn’t resist trying to get me to come down. I knew she would try everything in her power to get me to take a different course, her way.
I flopped down onto my bed and took out my writing tablet. The flickering screen, the worn nib, everything was just so familiar and comforting.
I’m not sure how much time went by when I actually came downstairs. All I know is that there was a plate sitting out for me, probably cold by now. Like it always is when we fight, I took my plate up to my room, or at least, started to.
My mom had a sly grin on her face when she came into the kitchen only seconds after I picked up the plate. “I see you’ve taken the bait. Now, I just thought I’d let you know, I got you transferred to a different class.” I could hear the evil dripping from her voice.
I slammed the plate back on the counter, “WHAT?!?!” I yelled.
“Come one, be happy. At least this way, you will be doing something with your life.” She stepped closer to me.
I shoved her away and ran back up to my room, almost in tears.
I pretty much cried my eyes out, it didn’t matter that my mom had just done the most evil thing she could possibly do. No, what bothered me so much is that she seemed happy, like she enjoyed ruining my life.
I heard footsteps coming towards my room, “Great…” I muttered and I frantically opened the nearest book and flipped to a page, like I had been reading it all along.
The door opened and I knew that this was going to be the ‘apology’ where we ‘resolved’ to not fight about my future. I snorted at the idea and waiting for my mom to say something.
“I don’t want you to be like me. But, I think I’m already too late.” Her only comment before she walked right back downstairs.
I was bewildered at her comment, “Too late?” I asked myself. “Is she saying I’m turning out like her? When I really don’t want to be?” I had no more chance to think about it. I had to get ready to be an emcee for the talent show at my school. This was the only time I actually cared how I looked.
I grabbed my black pants a blue graphic, long-sleeved tee shirt. Someone was going to notice those cuts on my arm, and even though some already had, I rather it not be a big deal with the judges today.

Stars

I gulped down my nervousness as I took the microphone; this was it, the talent show was ready to start and I had to be as accurate as possible. Even though I tried not to be, I felt guilty about everything that happened. The words of my classmates echoed in my head. Blinking rapidly, I tried to hold back the tears.
I gripped the microphone harder, and tried to shove those ideas out of my head. It was hard, I never though I could get so attached to what people thought of me. Closing my eyes, I breathed out. Their taunts should not bother me.
Finally, I opened my eyes and looked out into the crowd, surely they must be wondering what was going on with me. Putting on a fake smile, I reassured them that I was OK. Half their faces were blank; the other half was un-readable. Out in the far back, I saw a lone shadow. Whoever it was, was alone in the world, like I was.
I took a fleeting glance at the ceiling; it gave me comfort knowing they liked my decoration idea. Whenever the lights were turned down low, the stars glowed. I was happy just looking at them. I wanted so badly to be outside, to see the real stars, and, if I was lucky, some planet.
I realized then, that I hadn’t said anything for awhile. Blushing furiously, I began to talk about how great the show was going to be and thanking everyone for coming. I don’t know what I said, but, everyone seemed happy as I waked off the stage, letting the opening act go on.
“That was a great job!” one of my friends greeted me backstage.
I grinned, “Thanks.” I paused slightly, “Hey, not to be mean, but, aren’t you supposed to be at home, grounded?”
My friend looked at her watch, “Oops, gotta jet before the ‘rents know I’m gone.” She told me and ran off.
“Always the resistor.” I chuckled.
Later that night, after I realized just how much I need to pay attention, I sit on a tree branch and watch the cars go by, slowly and one by one. I always try to guess how many people are in the car. This late, it’s usually one. All of them look bleak. I try to find the stars in the midst of the branches and leaves.
I sighed and snuck back into the house and tried to finish my homework. It was a stressful way to end my day.

Which to Bury, Us or the hatchet?

“I beg you to forget, start anew! I know I hurt you before, but that doesn’t mean you have to let it become a grudge. I really wish you’d remember our good times.” A pleading voice, belonging to one of my old guy friends said to me.
I just glared, “What good times? Give me one.” I spat back at him.
He looked so confused, as if I was challenging him to answer and impossible riddle. “All those days we had, in class. When I sat next to you, making you laugh. Aren’t those good times?” he asked, finally.
I smirked, “Yeah, but, how you used to make fun of me behind my back or worse, insult me in front of my face and your friends.”
That’s when he looked like a deer caught in headlights, and I knew I was winning. “How about when I was there when your friends abandoned you? Or, when the guy you liked completely broke your heart. Or when-”
“Enough, I get it,” I cut off, “And, I know. Thank you. It’s still not good enough.”
“How is that not good enough?! I was there when no one else was,” He shot back, “Do you know how hard it is to see you cry and not be able to do anything about it?”
My face fell. “Um… wow. You felt helpless every time I came to you crying?” I asked, choosing my words carefully.
“Well… not necessarily…” he trailed off.
I rolled my eyes, “I knew trying to get you to talk was hopeless. You need to learn to open up. That’s it, I’m leaving,” I told him and turned to walk down the street, “You hate me.” I muttered to myself.
I must’ve said my last statement too loud because he jogged after me and took my wrist, “I do not hate you!” he exclaimed. “Honestly, why do you hate me?”
“Oh! This is a no-brainer! No matter how hard I tried to stay out of the spotlight, you made it be on me.” I explained furiously.
“Really? You were seemed to be begging for it!”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I transferred out of that school for a reason. It was my way of getting away from you.”
“Do you know how hard I’ve been trying to get you to come back? As soon as you left, everybody realized what happened. No words were needed, we just knew!” he had his begging voice again.
“I’m sorry. Everything just fit in so well once it happened.”
He looked so hurt, “Well, I guess I give up.”
He turned and walked away, I saw him glance back over his shoulder. I knew I hurt him, but nothing could change the words said. I kept on walking.
I felt like crying, I had just lost another friendship. Sobbing into my pillow, I had an urge to go into the bathroom and get the razor for the umpteenth time this month. Something stopped me, maybe it was the fact that I realized I was turning into something I hated. I never really thought I could change so much.
While I don’t know what made me decide to take the leap to throwing out the razor, I was happy. All I know is that I was going to try. Plus, my dad was coming home soon! Had it really been four months since he had gone? Four months since I started self-destruction? I wondered.

This Is Your Life

I struggled through the next day, and the day after. I broke away from the cutters when I told them what I did. The constant teasing, with no one to run to, it just built up. I was ready to undo what I had done, but I couldn’t.
At home, things were a little lighter. My mom was always out, and when we did come in contact, it was the same thing. “How is it going?” or, “When’s dinner?” It sort of killed me inside to know that we weren’t getting along. At least we weren’t fighting.
On Thursday, I had enough. Although I promised myself I wouldn’t do it, I broke down and just sobbed. Everything had just gone down hill. On Friday, though, a miracle happened. I was eating lunch, alone, as always and a girl comes up to me. I blankly stared at her; she was what I would classify as “Over Achiever”, and someone I would never be caught dead with.
“Hi. I’ve noticed that you’ve been eating by yourself the past few days, do you mind if I eat with you?” she asked in a soft tone.
Maybe I was desperate, or I just needed company. I nodded in disbelief; no one had offered to sit with me in weeks. “Yeah…” I muttered.
“Look, I don’t mean to be a bother, but, it looks like you’ve had some hard times recently. Just take one day at a time. I know this is completely over used, but, things will get better. Trust me, I should know.” As she was talking, I noticed scars on her arms.
I looked at her curiously, “What happened?” I asked.
She smiled, “Long story, short; my sister, brother and mom died in a plane crash while coming home from a trip to visit relatives. All I have left is my other brother, Dave, some aunts, uncles and my grandparents.”
Nodding, I thought about it, she did have it worse, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“A day at a time, that’s all I have to say” “I’m probably not the first person who said this, and I know I won’t be the last. Have you thought about therapy or something of that sort?” she asked.
I felt offended, “No. I’ve quit.” Then I snorted, “Sorry, it just sounded like I was talking about a drug.”
She shrugged, “Just remember, this is your life. You are in control. You do have a say in how you act and what you are surrounded by, even if sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.”
I pushed my lunch around with my fork, what was it supposed to be anyway? Not daring enough to try, I took a sip of my water bottle. Then it dawned on me, I shouldn’t focus or dwell on the past. It’s gone and over with. I can’t change it.
I smiled at her, “I think I get it. Thanks.”
She smiled back, “No problem. Once I was saved from myself, I made it a duty to help others.”
Corny much? I thought, oh well. Like it really matters, she seemed happy. Why couldn’t I? The bell rang before I could say anything else. I smiled once more and threw away my lunch. “See you around?” I asked, but no one was around. Just me in an empty courtyard.

Up and Up

The days after my encounter were strange, I felt empty in some way. Like I felt when I realized I was alone in the courtyard. Sometimes it felt nice; others I just wanted something to replace that spot. I promised that girl and myself that I would try to do better than I had before.
On Saturday, one of the most amazing things happened; my phone rang. I had gotten so used to spending my days alone; I almost forgot what my ring tone sounded like. Maybe I had spent too much time beating myself up about all the things I did, or just spent too much time dwelling on the past. Either way, I was too preoccupied with what I couldn’t change. I quickly answered it, “Hello?”
“Hey. How’ve you been?” the voice was familiar.
I furrowed my brow, “Who are you?” I asked plainly.
“Oh, I think I have the wrong number” said the other person and hung up.
On Sunday, I was the absolute happiest I ever could be. My dad came home! It seems like all my problems could be solved right then. My mom drove us to the hospital, and I ran to give my dad a hug. Thankful I wore a long-sleeved shirt today, we talked about everything that happened in the last four months. Well, maybe not everything. I left out a good portion of the cutting and crying.
Monday seemed better; of course I had to get through all the teasing and taunts. Though, during lunch, the girl from Friday had come to sit with me. We talked about just about everything under the sun.
Every day after that seemed to be getting better. I acted liked I was unfazed by everything they threw at me. Starting off it was hard, but day after day it became easier. I started to get better in school; I think I shocked the teachers. All my bad grades shot up.
Maybe my old friends noticed my change because one day, one of them came up to me and said, “Is this change for real? I mean, it seems like it was so sudden.”
I was taken back a little, “Of course. I mean, why wouldn’t it be for real?”
She shrugged, “It just seems a little too coincidental that your dad comes home and you stop… you know.” She explained.
I looked at her, “Well, it’s for real. Believe it or not.”
She seemed surprised that I hadn’t backed down. I wanted to rub it in her face, but realized that I was going to be late for my next class. “Call me if you want to know more.” I offered and walked down the hall.
I didn’t look back at her. She didn’t need my friendship unless I knew she was going to be a faithful friend. By the looks of it, it seemed like it would never happen. I felt on top of the world.
My dad had solved so many problems, even if he was the source of some of them. (Of course, I could just be blaming it on him, even though it was my fault)
I don’t know how exactly it happened, but, on Thursday, a guy from my class had talked to me, but, I didn’t remember his name. Before, we didn’t really get along. I was surprised; he seemed so nice and sweet. One thing led to another, and, turns out, I got a date! Changes galore! It was wonderful. There probably wasn’t any feeling better than how I felt then. I’m sure my parents had some objections, for whatever reason.
Friday was hectic. After school I tried to contain my excitement. My first date ever, saying I was happy was an understatement. I barely said hello to my parents as I went up the stairs to change. True, he wasn’t picking me up until 7pm; I had 3 and a half hours to get ready. Chances were that I’d spend about 3 hours of that trying to figure out what I was going to wear.
I Need You

Sure enough, at 7 on the dot, the doorbell rang. I practically ran down the stairs when I heard it. My parents were talking to him, probably making sure I wasn’t going to end up with the wrong crowd…… again.
I smiled when we got to the final destination. We were going ice skating. To me, it seemed like an original idea. I mean, usually my friends always talked about how great the movie was, or what they had for dinner. No one ever mentioned ice skating.
While we were getting the ice skates, I wondered how this date would turn out. I mean, being social is not my strongest point. As we were lacing up our skates, he asked, “I hope you don’t mind, but, I am the least coordinated person on ice skates.” He said with seriousness, but I heard a hint of joking.
I laughed, “That’s ok, if you don’t mind me being the one person who’s always falling.” I said to him.
He smiled, “We’ll see about that.” He has a mischievous smile on his face when he said that. I gave him a quizitive look, I almost wanted to ask, but shook it out of my head.
“I guess so.” I tried to have the same smile, but I probably failed to make it look like I was going to do something.
Ever since I learned how to ice skate, I’ve always loved the feeling of that first step onto the ice. Testing your balance, at first mistrusting the thin blades, and then finally, being able to glide smoothly over the ice.
Unlike all the other times I’ve ice skated, it was only five minutes since I had first stepped onto the ice and I was already helping someone up off the ice (for the first time, my date). As I was helping him up, I saw that smile and he pulled me down onto the ice with him.
Normally, I would’ve been mad, but, for some reason, I started to laugh. Maybe because the fact that I had totally fallen for it or that I had imagined that scenario as I was lacing my skates. “Alright, I’m not helping you up again.” I joked as I grabbed the wall and helped myself up.
He gave me a small pout, “Aw. Why not?” he asked and helped himself up, as well.
I couldn’t help but smile at the pathetic face he was making, “’cause if I do, I’ll end up on the ice, too! Well… if anything like the last moment is anything is to go by…” I trailed off slowly. Then I realized something about the past months. I’m happy now, I realized.
He looked at me, slightly concerned. “Are you ok?” he asked, and took my hand in his. He half smiled, as if it was going to make me feel better.
I smiled back at him, and nodded. “I’d take awhile to explain, but, before you asked me out, I was a very…uh… troubled person.” I said weakly, still not able to accept it just yet.
He nodded, “I kind of figured.” He said and pushed back the sleeve of my shirt to reveal the healing scars.
I blushed, “Yeah… long story, you see-”
“No. No need to explain. I think I understand. You see, my sister told me about you,” he said, choosing his words carefully.
I felt betrayed, almost. “I-I had poured my heart out to her, and this is what happens? Gosh that’s not cool. I should just stop trusting people.” I said and kept moving on, and then it all clicked in. I finally knew who this person was.
He followed me, “Actually, no, don’t stop trusting. She only told me because I had always wondered. She told me her experience, but, I felt like I needed more. But, after I heard the story, I was hooked. I had to learn more.” He told me and smiled.
I felt touched, “Oh. What were you wondering about? Why people hurt themselves or what? I guess I can forgive you.” I smiled back at him.
“I guess so,” He told me, “Thanks.”
We came to a door to get back to the bleachers, and sat down. “You see, there’s a lot that you don’t know, though. My dad has had a history of these things. It’s….almost…routine, so to say. Sometimes it’s hard, but, other times it is a welcome surprise. Sometimes I fight with him, but I fight with my mom more. It’s…hard. So, I guess I’ve tried to make myself,” I paused, trying to find the right word, “You know, not notice everything that goes on.” I tried to explain not so well.
He nodded, “I think I get it.” He put his hand on my knee, “I think you know the whole deal with my parents.”
I nodded, “Do you live with your grandparents or something?” I asked.
He nodded, “Correct. After the plane crash,” I heard his voice waver at the last bit. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him wipe away a tear.
I leaned over and gave him a hug, “It’s ok. I think I get it. Ok, well maybe not, but, so many deaths at once must be hard to handle.” I said sympathetically.
He looked at me, “An honest answer, that’s something I haven’t heard since the crash.” He smiled and took my hand once more. “I have an idea. If you don’t mind, I’d like to show you one of the best places to see the city. I bet it looks fabulous right now.” He told me.
I nodded, “Yeah. That sounds like a lot of fun!” as I stood up, I forgot that I was wearing skated and I almost tripped over the bench. I laughed as I caught my balance, “Now that was something I was expecting to happen on the ice.” I explained to Dave.
He smiled, and I saw he was trying (unsuccessfully) to stifle a laugh. “Alright, lets go!” he said, amidst the laughs.
I smiled and followed him and returned the rented skates quickly. I nodded thanks to the person behind the counter as we left. “Whew. That was fun!” I yelled over the wind that was whipping my hair into my face.
He nodded, “I agree. I love that. Movies or dinner is always overrated.”
I nodded vigorously. “I know! I see that someone else likes to have some originality. None of my friends have ever said anything about ice skating. I think they’re all too afraid of falling in front of so many people.” I told him
“Oh, and you’re not?” he gave me a small smile to let me know that he was joking.
“Of course I am. But at least I don’t let it get in my way of having fun. It’s how life is. You have to let go of your inhibitions every once and awhile.” I smiled.
After a little bit of walking, (much of it up hill) he asked me to close my eyes and trust him to lead me in the right direction. I only agreed if he could physically steer me.
He agreed and after some scary moments of blindness, he told me to open my eyes. Oh boy, it was the best thing ever. I never realized how big the city was until I actually saw it from up there. “Wow,” I breathed. “This is amazing.”
He nodded, “I know. Every time I come up here, I think the same thing. It’s a wonderful experience.”
I looked over at him, “Thank you. You’ve done something I didn’t think anyone could.” I looked up into the starry sky and whispered, “Thank you God” “What’s that?” he asked slowly.
“Well, about five months ago, my dad had gone to the hospital with a case of depression. Not the first time it’s happened, and it certainly won’t be the last. When I first started down the path of self-destruction, I felt like it was my way out of the hard times. After awhile, I figured, ‘You know? This isn’t the way!’ but, I continued anyway. When your sister came and talked to me, I realized that I needed God’s help. I prayed and hoped for a long time that someday I would find someone who would get my history, and understand, to an extent what I’ve been going through. I also hoped that I would find at least one guy who wouldn’t give me death glares as I passed by them in the hallway. Day after day it got harder to keep that hope.” I explained carefully, I knew he should have known some of this, but I had no idea what exactly his sister had told him.
He nodded slowly, “So, I guess I was the one to save you from… yourself, really. It’s hard. I know myself, I almost committed suicide. Your troubles always seem so hard. When you tell other people, they just blow you off and focus on what they think is important.” He took in a deep breath, “Which is usually themselves.”
I placed my hand on his and looked into his eyes, “Hey, at least we have each other to talk to now.” I said seriously, and then added, “Unless, of course, now you find me a really boring person with a not so cool sob-story that wants attentions and you want to ignore me.” I looked away, giving the sad impression. I tried to make it over the top ridiculous so that he could guess that I was kidding.
“Oh come on. Everyone has their sob-story. Some people just have one that’s a little more depressing. I happen to like what you’ve made yourself from your history. It’s nice how a person can do a total one-eighty with their life, especially when they mean it for good. No changing back whatsoever.” He smiled at me.
I looked back, happy now. “Optimism!” I shouted out cheerfully.
He looked at me, confused, “What…was… that?”
I smiled, “You were being optimistic about the whole ‘changing’ and ‘make yourself better than your past’ speech. It was the first thing I thought of when you finished talking.”
“You’re a nut.” He stated simply.
I stuck my tongue out at him, “As long as I’m a walnut, they’re my favorites.”
He just shook his head in reply. “Oh wow. I didn’t know anyone could ever be that random.” He paused, “No offense. I actually like random people. You have some very… interesting conversations.”
I nodded, “Totally true. If I even said anything like that to my parents, they’d be mad. They like straight forward answers. Just like any parent.” Then I winced, “Sorry. I forgot about the parent thing.”
“It’s ok. My grandparents are like that, too. If I even try to say anything funny or sarcastic, they take it literally. I guess parents don’t have any humor anymore.” He shrugged.
“Nah. Some do. But, that’s only if they’re under the age of like, 40 or something. I haven’t figured it out…yet.”
He laughed, “Sounds like you are on a mission to find the perfect parent or something.”
“What if I am?” I tried to sound innocent.
“Are you?”
“Of course not!” I paused, “Because, there is no such thing as a perfect parent.”
He smiled, “Of course not. But, nobody is perfect. Though, I think that once you find that special person, they are perfect in your eyes.”
I think I heard a hint of longing and, I also think it was his way of telling me that he actually liked me. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I asked quietly.
“And what could I possibly be saying?”
I paused, unsure of what to do next. “Uh-”
He cut me off, “Yes.” He whispered in my ear.
I was caught off-guard. “Really?” I asked, blushing. Though, at least it was dark out and he couldn’t see it.
“Of course. Why would I imply anything that I don’t mean?”
I smiled and nodded, “Thank you.” And I gave him a hug. “Not to be mean or anything, but, don’t you think it’s time for us to go back home?” I had no idea what the time was, but I knew my parents would be getting worried, even if they weren’t, I felt like I should’ve been getting home right about then.

Face Down

As I was walking up to the door, I heard the faint voices of my parents. They were fighting. Right then and there I should’ve been worried, but, I got the key from under the mat anyway. I turned the key in the lock and heard glass breaking. I stopped right there, frozen to the spot. Quickly, I glanced over my shoulder; he was still there, waiting for me to go in. Had he heard what was going on?
I waved for him to come over to the door. I whispered, “I can’t go in. Not yet. My parents are in there-fighting. I’m afraid.”
He immediately had a look of worry on his face, “Why don’t you come over to my house and you can stay there for awhile until you feel its safe.” He suggested.
I took the key out of the lock and placed it back under the mat, “Do you mind if we just watch from across the street, I think the fight is almost over. My dad will be leaving the house as soon as it is done.” I explained. I didn’t know for sure if that was true, but, it was better safe than sorry.
He nodded and took my hand. We walked across the street and waited quietly for awhile. I don’t know how long, but I saw my dad stomp out of the house and angrily get into the car. I watched as he drove off. I nodded and crept back to my house.
I tried the door, hoping it stayed unlocked. Sure enough, it was. I waved a good bye and watched him walk down the block. The first thing I saw when I got into the house was my mom, sobbing on the couch. Everything was in disarray. I was horrified. “Mom, what happened?” I asked, my voice catching in my throat. I knew already, though.
She looked up at me in surprise. “I thought… you had a date?” she half-asked in a quiet voice.
I nodded, “I did. But, it was really short. Sorry. What happened over here? That’s what I’m more worried about.”
She didn’t say anything; instead, she shook her head. “It’s hard to explain…” she trailed off.
I looked around the room, trying to see what could’ve been broken. No, the windows were fine, so was the TV screen. I shifted my weight, and heard a crunch under my foot. I looked down and gasped, “Your favorite vase!” I knew it was a silly thing to be worried about
She just looked at me, “That doesn’t matter right now. Can you just go… do your homework or something?” her voice was still wavering.
I nodded and ran up the stairs; it was not a good way to end the night. Something inside me knew I should tell someone else about it, but I was too in shock. They always seemed to work well together. I bit my lip to keep from crying. It was way too much to handle. I could only imagine what my mom was feeling.
I couldn’t take it, after about an hour of trying to do my social studies, I came back down stairs, only to see that my mom was putting on make up, as if she was going out. “Where are you going?” I asked, and tried to rack my brain for the conversation where she told me she was going to do something.
She looked at me, with blank eyes. “Out” was her simple reply. Normally, that would get on my nerves, but I let it slip tonight.
“Ok, well have fun.” I said blankly as I took a juice from the fridge. I heard the door lock click behind her. Quickly, I grabbed the phone and dialed my dad’s cell. I tapped my foot impatiently as it rang. He didn’t pick up and I was directed to voicemail. “Dad. I am really not pleased. How the heck could you do that? I used to look up to you. Now I see that it was pointless. I wasted years of my life trying to be what I thought my father was. Now I don’t want to.” I said bitterly and hung up when I was done.
I scarcely put the phone down when it rang again. “Please, don’t let it be dad,” I pleaded silently. I grabbed it and glanced at caller ID, “Hi?” I answered.
“Hey, Lola. I just wanted to say that you should probably call the police and report the fight. It seemed like you knew there was physical violence involved.”
I shook my head, “I know I should, but something is preventing me. And, my mom isn’t even home right now. I should’ve called sooner, but, she would’ve noticed. Sometime. Not now.”
“Yes, now, just do it. They don’t have to come over, just report it and maybe they can do something.”
I hung up, not wanting to argue. “No.” I said, chocking up. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to be a good family. I had gotten over my problem, and so had my dad. Or so we thought.
I went back up to my room and flicked on the lights. I checked the time, and gulped. It was getting late. Oh well, I shrugged. I changed into PJ’s and climbed into bed. No sooner than I put my head down, my mom, or at least, I was guessing, came back home.
The next morning, I wearily came downstairs, as if something was going to jump out and kill me. One look told me that the living room hadn’t been touched. I grabbed a broom and swept it up. I threw away the tiny shards. I wished I could’ve moved the furniture back, but sadly, I was too weak.
There was the soft thud of footsteps on the stairs behind me. I whirled around, only to see my mom. “Hey,” I said quietly.
She nodded, “Hey honey. Thanks for sweeping up.”
“No problem.” I paused, “Where were you last night?” I asked, picking my words carefully.
“Out.”
“Well duh, out! But, where, out?” I asked.
She shook her head, like she couldn’t tell me. “It’s not the right time for me to tell you.” She said simply.
I wanted to shake the answer out of her, but, I couldn’t stand to see her like this. “Ok.” I murmured and stood next to her. “I just wish you didn’t have to go through all that pain.”
“It wasn’t his fault. I did it to myself.” She choked up a little.
I gave her a hug. “No, you did not.” I felt like there was some role reversal right then. Tears came to my eyes, too.
She gave me a hug, too. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I paused, collecting my thoughts. “If you really loved yourself, you would just get a divorce. It’s too much trouble to be getting into. No guy is worth this. I know you love him, but, if he loved you, would he really put you through all this pain? I can’t find a sensible reason why he should. It’s not fair to you.” I rambled slightly into her chest.
“That’s nice that you care so much, but, he’s not putting me through any sort of pain. It’s my emotion distress.”
I knew she was lying. “Bull. Crying or not, he’s putting you through something. He is the problem. Be truthful. I know he’s the problem.”
She hugged me closer, “It’s not your problem to deal with. It’s mine.” She stated simply.
I let go of my mom, “I’m too concerned. I can’t help but make this my problem. You’re my mom! Even though we fight, I still love you to pieces.” I reminded myself to call my dad again. Even if he got my last message, I needed to give him another one. I gulped and stepped back. “I’m going back to my room.” I said and ran up the stairs.
I grabbed my phone and dialed my dad’s number. Of course, he didn’t answer. “Dad, I know you got my last message. Stop pretending. We both know that she’s had enough.” I snapped my phone shut in disgust. I hugged my pillow, sobbing. This was too much too soon. I loved both of them. I couldn’t choose. Not at the moment, even though my mind was pretty much made up. I knew I had to support my mom. She was the one that was right in this situation. “How could you dad?” I sobbed. “Nothing good has come of you lately. I hope that you regret this. I sure hope that you know what you did wrong. I hope this tortures you mind and body forever!”
Every time we touch

The end of the year came by quickly. The summer months were coming, and I couldn’t wait. But, first, graduation. I protested loudly when my mom said she couldn’t make it. Of course, she said she would try. My dad was out of the house so much I forgot that he used to live there. So, I gathered my things and walked to a friend’s house. Getting ready there was a blast.
The seats were actually very comfy. I was hesitant to settle into mine, but, I did. I watched as everyone came in. It was eerie, the kids I went to school with, the people that I used to strive to be with, even, the people that cared about me. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I was startled to hear the principal say the opening words. Then, I knew I was going to be here awhile. Speeches and more speeches. Of course, I didn’t strive to make the best of grades, nor did I care to. If I was up there talking, I’d be less corny than everyone else. You really have to know suffering to inspire people.
Either way, I leapt out of my chair when my name was called. I shook hands with the principal and glanced out to the crowd as I took my diploma. My heart sunk a little. Mom wasn’t there. Of course, why would she? Dad, I had really let go. (Of course, it wasn’t until I had left hundreds of vicious and bitter voice mails)
As soon as the ceremony was over, students rushed out to their families, and families grinned with pride. I held back, trying to keep out of the way. It was no use, Dave had tracked me down. “Hey there! Don’t be so sad, Lola.” He said and hugged me.
I smiled, “Well, when your mom decided not to come to your most important event in your life so far, I can’t help but feel sad.”
“Well hey, that’s no reason to be sad.” He said and let go of me. “I can name many more reasons why you should be sad. At least you graduated. That’s good enough.”
I nodded, “Yeah. So, what do you plan to do for summer?” I asked, already planning mine: sleeping in, doing nothing, writing and swimming. If only I could set that in stone.
He shrugged, “My grandparents want to travel. Some places sounds like fun to visit. So, I might be gone for a good portion of the summer.” He said the last part with sadness.
I frowned, “You leave tomorrow, don’t you?” I asked.
He nodded, “Yeah. I really didn’t want to tell you do close to the departure, but, I just kept putting it off. Sorry.”
I sighed, “It’s ok. As long as you keep in touch, it won’t matter.” I said.
That night, once I hit my pillow, I fell asleep. As usual, I forgot to turn my alarm off, so I was fumbling around to hit and groaned. “The first day of summer and I’m up way too early.” I said to my pillow. Sighing, I threw off the covers and checked out the window. Nothing too unusual happening outside. Now, only to find something to actually do.
I turned my tablet on. It seemed like I was staring at the loading screen for forever. Yawning, I typed in my password for my account and went to the bathroom while I waited for it to load. I was glad that I didn’t have anywhere to go… yet. My hair was a mess and it didn’t want to be brushed.
The rest of my day seemed to fly by. I had an idea. For writing, of course. I hardly went downstairs, only to get some food. Of course, my mom wasn’t there. I stopped caring if she was around. As long as I had a house, food and clothes, it didn’t matter if she was there for me.
By the time I fell asleep, my mom had only been home for an hour. If this was how summer was going to be, I’d rather go to school year round. I just missed Dave the most, though. I had planned to do so much with him.
Repeat the process of the first day of summer (minus the alarm clock) and you get what happened for two weeks. It was no wonder I started to lose weight and started to look pale. Finally, I decided to go out. Just walk around the block to see what was going on. How other people were.
With the way I was looking, it was no surprise that no one approached me. I stopped by the post office. I had meant to write him a postcard, but, I didn’t have the address he was staying at. I already ran what I was going to say to him through my mind.
I asked the person at the front desk if there was a letter for me. Lately, mom hasn’t been bringing the mail in or at least, mail for me. Was she hiding something? I knew Dave would write to me as soon as he could. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Either way, no letter for me, yet.
I thought back to the school year. When had we become, couple-y? It was weird; I hadn’t noticed that, until now. I needed to pay more attention to my emotions. Of course, I was happy when I saw him, and whenever he smiled or looked at me, I couldn’t help but smile back.
I stopped by the library to check my e-mail. There was an off chance that he e-mailed me. Nope. Though, I did re-read the last e-mail he sent. I couldn’t help but smile. I stopped caring because he really did want to have fun. I should too. Only, I needed people to have fun with. I walked back to my house and got the mail. Nothing. I sighed, “Why.” I grumbled as I began to write a letter to Dave. (to be sent once he mails me, of course). I signed it off and put it under my pillow.
Not giving up on summer fun, I went back outside. I shoved my hands in my pockets, and tried to create a laid-back, ‘I don’t have anywhere to be’ look. A girl from my class came up to me as I walked around the park. “Hey Lola! Want to come to a party tonight?” I must’ve hesitated because she said, “Come on, I’m offering. It’s going to be fun!” she said as enthusiastically as she could.
I smiled, “Sure, I’d love to come.”
“Great! I’ll come by your house around 7.” She said.
I nodded, and walked back home. It was 4 o’clock. “Thanks!” I shouted. I really wondered how it was going to go. It’s been awhile since I was in the party scene. The everlasting battle of casual or formal came up. In the end, I went casual.
When it was 6:45, I was writing a note to my mom. I didn’t care if she was going to be worried or not. I bit the end of the pen and figured that I should take my phone too. Signing the note, I grabbed my phone from the charger and slipped on a jacket.
7 came around and the doorbell rang. I practically ran to get it. “Hey.” I said.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
I nodded, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” I said and closed the door behind me.
We walked all the way to the party. It was obvious we were late. Oh well. The only thing that bothered me was that the girl left me once we got in the house. I wandered around, probably looking very stupid. Sighing, I sat on the couch. It wasn’t much different from when I did have something better to do. I was no one, the invisible person in the crowd. Which was why I was surprised when a guy sat down next to me and offered me a drink. I accepted and started to talk with him.
By the end of the night, I had a good time, and had plans for tomorrow. It was great. I walked back to my house, it was getting chilly outside. I knew before I opened the door that there was going to be trouble, though. My dad’s car was in the driveway. I gulped and opened the door.
He frowned, “Lola. I called you.” He said grimly.
I took out my phone and checked, “Oh. I’m sorry! It was loud, and I couldn’t hear. I-I really am sorry.” I said, afraid of what might happen.
He took a step forward, “When I call, I expect to have an answer. No if, ands or buts.” He told me and gripped my wrist. Hard. “And, don’t talk back. Or else, you might end up like your mom.” He sneered.
“But-” I didn’t have anytime to say anything else. He had slapped me. I could feel the spot where he hit me sting. Tears began to well up in my eyes. I wormed out of his grip. “You’re a monster! You know that?” I asked and ran out the front door. My tears blinded me, so I ran wherever my legs would take me.

I’m With You

I collapsed on a bench. Of course, it could’ve been worse, but, I couldn’t handle it, not yet. It was cold out, of course. I shivered in my jacket, and sniffled a little bit. The sky rumbled with thunder, “Oh no.” I sighed. I sat there and hoped that someone would be worried. Of course, no one was going to be outside at this time. Who would? I was about to go back, but, something inside me didn’t let me. I thought it would’ve been for my own good if I stayed in the park.
I shivered once more as the rain started to fall down. It was pouring down. Anyone with sense would’ve gotten home. I had lost my sense a long time ago. I wanted to be free. I sniffled again and wiped my nose with my jacket sleeve. I seemed like forever since it had rained. “Why?” I moaned. I didn’t know what I was moaning about, but, it was the only thing that I could do. Maybe I was asking why my dad had to come back. Maybe I was asking why I had to have this kind of life. I don’t know
I thought long and hard about what my life had entailed, and what I did. I felt hopeless as I went over my actions. I regretted everything I had done before. It was awhile before I heard footsteps. I was half-asleep and shivering by that time, anyway.
“Hey there.” I heard a voice. I didn’t know who it was, or why they were talking to me. It didn’t matter.
“Hi.” I mumbled.
The person took a seat next to me. “What’s a girl like you doing in a park this late?” they asked.
I turned and looked the person in the face, or at least, what I hoped was their face. “It’s… complicated.” I stated quietly
They took my hand in theirs, “Well, I can’t say I’ll understand, but, why don’t you tell me?”
I took my hand away from theirs, “I’d rather not tell my whole life story to a stranger I can’t even see.” I told them.
The person shrugged, “Ok, but, I’d like to show you something.” They said and got up from the bench. They took a few steps forward.
“Ok.” I murmured and got up after them, and followed.
Following was hard, especially since it was pitch black out and I was getting tired. Eventually, the person stopped. I had no idea where I was, but, I kept on walking. When I realized that I didn’t know where I was going, I searched frantically for the person who led me here. I sank down onto the ground.
I didn’t fall asleep. It didn’t matter how tired I was. All I wanted was to stay alive, and, making sure of your surroundings is a big part of that. I heard footsteps every now and then, but, nothing too alarming. I wanted desperately to know where I was. Just so I could know where to start walking home, or a friend to take me. I snorted at the idea. No friend would take me in this early… or late. Time was also a thing I would’ve liked to know. I was getting sick of being alone. Before, I had loved it and wished everyone would. Now, all I wanted was someone next to me, to get me up and take me home.
I got up and started going whichever way I could pick out. I could only start seeing outlines, which meant that it was getting closer to sunrise. Or, that I was getting used to the darkness. I stumbled upon something… or someone.
The person I tripped over got up and said in a gruff voice, “Look missy. I don’t know where you’re from, but, in this area, people like to sleep! I suggest you get outta here, and never come back!” his voice got progressively louder.
I backed away, “Yes, sir. I promise!” and ran off into the darkness. Panting, I slowed down; I didn’t know where I was. Maybe I was getting closer to home, or maybe further.
I decided to catch my breath. I saw the sun slowly start to come over the horizon. With that little bit of light streaming through, I managed to figure out which way to go. I gulped and kept walking. What a sight I must’ve been. Only awhile later, I was walking down the poorer part of town. I knew this was a bad place to walk. Who knows what kind of people are down here?
Only minutes after I had walked in, a girl came up to me. In a low hushed voice, she asked, “Do you got any money?”
I looked her over; she was a teen, for sure. Her face seemed to be pleading. I saw something in her hand. I wasn’t sure what to say. Of course, I did have money, but, to give it away at this moment, didn’t feel right. I nodded feebly.
“How much?” she asked me.
I counted in my head, not very much, considering I left most of it at home. I searched out my pockets and came up with $10. “Here.” I said and held out the ten dollars.
She took the money and handed me the bag she was holding, “Thanks.” She said and ran off happily, as if she won the lottery.
I was puzzled, but, moved on quicker. I did not want a repeat. I stuffed the bag in my pocket and soon was on the familiar block of houses I had grown up with. Before I knew it, I was at my house. I check the driveway, no cars. Carefully, I opened the door.
I slid past the small opening and started up the stairs. I hoped that my mom had already gotten to work and my dad was off somewhere. Anywhere really. Mom couldn’t be that nice to let dad come back into our lives just like that.
I was desperate for sleep. I collapsed on my bed. Not taking off my clothes, or going under the covers. Just closed my eyes and tried to get some rest.