Authors: Linda Oaks
What the hell was his problem? No one had made him show up at the drive-in tonight. He was the one who sent me away whenever I'd tried to talk to him. I let go of the doorframe, my heart hammered. I had thought that Chase and Chance were dangerous but now, I knew. When he took a step toward me, the fierceness of his expression made my stomach clench with unease. He was not the guy, I thought he was. This guy scared me.
"Goodbye, Chance," I said evenly, surprised by the cool indifference of my tone when on the inside, I was anything but calm. My chest felt tight. The scars on the inside of my thighs tingled. I needed to get away from him. Beneath the glare of the front porch light, his face twisted with emotion. "Shit," he muttered, his hands curled into fists and I took a step back. Before I could say or do anything, he punched the side of the house, and I heard the vinyl siding crack. I screamed.
Maybe it was my scream, or it could have been the pain in his hand that made him come to his senses. His knuckles were red, and one bleed. He held up his hands in front of him as if trying to calm me. His palms were facing me but I backed away. "Invite me in. I didn't mean it, Addie," he said; his words hoarse, but I just couldn't do it. As much as I longed for things to be right between us again, he'd scared me.
"Goodbye, Chance," I whispered, and he stood silently on the front porch. His shoulders slumped forward. His mouth flattened into a grim line. I kept my eyes on him just in case he tried to move and watched him disappear as I shut the door. Only when he was closed outside did my control crumble. My movements were jerky. My body shook. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I tried to draw in a breath as I frantically fumbled for the bolt to lock the front door. I couldn't breathe. Once I heard it click, I sucked gulps of air into my lungs and sunk to the floor. A sob burst past my lips.
What in the hell had just happened?
I curled my fingers into my palms, digging my nails into the skin, and felt the tip of my pinky nail sink into the flesh. It hurt. The slight sting momentarily cleared my head but I needed more. On shaky legs, I walked through the house. The red light on the answering machine wasn't flickering. No one had called, and it was at that moment, my world crumbled in, cracking open the wall of my insecurities.
I ran through the house, my boots clicking loudly against the hardwood floor, mocking me, but I couldn't escape the way that I felt no matter how fast I ran. As I raced up the stairs and down the hallway, my heel skidded on the floor and I slipped outside Natalie's door falling to my knees. The pain jarred my bones and rattled my teeth. My knees throbbed from the impact. My mind raced. I stared at Natalie's closed door, wishing more than anything that my big sister was still here with me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I pushed myself from the floor then walked the rest of the way to my room and lay down across my bed. I grabbed a pillow burying my face in its softness.
I couldn't handle this. Seeing Chance hurt worse this time than it had the last. I could only imagine what Kara or Devon must be thinking. And poor Jake! I hadn't intended to lead him on. I'd wanted to forget all about Chance even if it was only for a little while, and I'd been honest with Jake up front.
So why did I feel so guilty?
Startled, I sat upright in the bed rubbing my eyes. The clock on my nightstand now read 4:15. Somehow despite everything, I'd managed to fall asleep. Thoughts of the night before bombarded my mind like angry fists punching away as they cracked and demolished the remaining fragile shell of my composure which scattered like leaves helplessly twisting in a whirlwind. The air backed up in my lungs. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. I needed to remain calm, and tried to remember the exercises I'd learned in counseling. The ones, that I was supposed to practice whenever I felt overwhelmed…whenever I felt as if my whole life were slipping through my fingers and spiraling out of my control, but my mind was blank. I couldn't remember them. Not a single one.
I leaned over the side of the bed, turned on my lamp and yanked open the nightstand drawer. There at the corner edge of one of the many photos inside, a silver razor blade shyly peeked back at me. The photo that caught my attention was of Natalie lying on a blanket in the grass wearing a dreamy expression on her beautiful face. Her eyes were closed. Her hair was spread out around her head like a blond halo. I'd found this picture among the others hidden in a shoebox beneath her bed.
My heart thudded painfully in my chest. Suddenly, it became crystal clear to me that Natalie's boyfriend, Nate had taken the photo. Natalie had that look; an apparent glow about her. An unmistakable softness accompanied the delicate flush high on her cheekbones. It was a picture that was a pure reflection of someone in love.
Unease twisted in my gut. It burrowed in my veins and bent down to take refuge in my soul. I glanced at my phone lying on the bed beside me. Three new messages showed on the register. I ignored them all and instead stared back down into the dresser drawer feeling empty. Nothing mattered. Why should anyone care about anyone when it only led to your heart being mangled and ripped from your chest? I reached for the edge of the photo pushing it aside as my fingertips curled around the blunt edge of the razor.
In sleep, my dress had ridden up and bunched around my waist, exposing my thighs. I still wore my boots and noticed that my sheets were dirty, but I didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing did. I gazed at the silvery lines riding high on the inside of my inner thighs that started just below the edge of my panties. I felt a drop of wetness race down my cheek. It splashed against my skin and streaked down the inside of my leg. I pushed back the hair that had fallen forward into my face. I'd lost my clip somewhere among the twisted tangle of sheets and pillows.
A sob swelled in my throat, and I fought to hold it down; to keep it inside but I couldn't. I couldn't control anything… not my life, not my emotions. I was alone. The only person who had ever truly loved me was gone. I stood by letting everything happen to me. I played the victim. I always felt helpless, but not this time. I was sick of this shit. This, I could control. This, I needed… the empty release that would occupy my mind until I could make sense of the swirling voids of darkness dancing in my head, and squeezing the breath from my lungs. I reached down, pulling the skin taunt against my thigh as I edged the razor closer and closer.
I didn't want to do it, but I had no other choice. The air had been sucked from the room, and I needed it back. I couldn't breathe. I needed to breathe. My lungs felt like they were about to burst. So, I laid the razor carefully beside an old scar and tried to take a deep breath but instead of sucking in air, a cry escaped past my lips and I was drowning alive in all of my emotions. No one could hear me. No one even cared. I screamed as I slid the razor downward watching in surreal disbelief as a trickle of red bloomed against my skin. I gasped, struggling to draw in a deep breath. The pain was familiar and soothing and finally, calmness crept over me. I was able to breathe once again. I sucked in a lung full of air feeling triumphant.
It couldn't smother me anymore. I let go of all those emotions trapped inside of me and allowed them to seep out through the tiny lines I cut into my skin. All the ugliness inside my soul had the chance to escape; the stress, the failures, the worry, and the guilt. All that shit that I couldn't control. The pain made everything crystal clear. The urge was always there hidden inside and buried deep within the crevices of my mind, but I had fought it until now. There was only so much I could take, and then I had to let it out just so I could breathe.
I didn't want to stop, but I made myself. I was in control now, so I flung the razor across my bedroom and slammed the nightstand drawer closed. It was done. I rolled over, feeling the familiar and sticky wetness against my thighs as I counted my breaths willing myself to concentrate on the stinging pain that always followed. It was soothing, and when I closed my eyes, I gave into the peace waiting for me there.
The persistent beeping of the alarm clock finally penetrated my foggy brain rousing me awake. I groaned and smacked the clock forcing it to cease its annoying screech. I stretched, raising my arms over my head and curling my toes downward, realizing then that I still wore my boots. I sat up in the bed then felt the tug of the dried tightness along my inner thigh. I didn't want to think about the damage I'd inflicted. Not right now, when I was barely even awake. I rubbed my eyes. They felt puffy and swollen.
I tugged one of my boots off and dropped it onto the floor with a soft thud then did the same with the other. As I wiggled my toes, I glanced at the alarm clock… 6:15. I didn't feel like doing this today. I sat up and put my feet on the floor and then shoved the dress over my head and laid it on the bed beside me. I looked down at my legs. The cut was on the inside of my right thigh. It wasn't deep, but it was longer than the rest. I always made sure that I applied just the right amount of pressure because I didn't want to end up in the ER or earn a free vacation to the psych ward.
When I stood and turned, I noticed there were a couple of brownish red smears on my sheets, but even if Mom took the time to do my laundry, she would just think that I'd started my period. I tugged the corner of the sheet, stripped the mattress and wadded up the dirty linen and clothes then left them in a pile by my bed.
My closet door stood open. I never shut it. I wasn't afraid of any imaginary monsters that might be lurking within. The only monster in this room was the one trapped inside of me. Today was my birthday and I'd promised Kara, I'd wear my black miniskirt. Tugging it from a rack, I grabbed a pair of black capris to go under it. She'd just have to get over it.
I reached for my sheer white blouse and the black and white polka-dotted tank that would match it. As I knelt down, I winced at the taunt pull along my skin. There was no time for pain, or for babying myself. I pushed through it as I dug in the laundry basket I kept in the bottom of my closet where I stored my underwear. Finding what I needed, I also grabbed the white sandals sitting by the basket. They would match my outfit.
The clock now read 6:25. With everything in hand, I padded down the hallway toward the bathroom. For the first time in a long time, I didn't even look at Natalie's door as I passed her room.
Once inside the bathroom, I started the shower and waited for the water to get hot. As I stood in front of the mirror, absently lost in thought, my fingertip found and traced the slim line of the newly formed scab on the inside of my thigh. Just touching it made me feel better. I stared into the mirror at the girl looking back at me.
"I'm stronger today," I said, hoping that by saying the words out loud it would make them true. I leaned across the sink, resting my palms against the mirror's surface. My reflection fogged over. As I began to disappear, I wiped the steam from the mirror, just like I'd temporarily wiped away all the ugliness that stained my soul.
There were dark smudges around and beneath my chocolate brown eyes. But my gaze was level and clear. There were no shadows lurking in their depths. "I'm braver today," I whispered, and turned from the mirror to strip off my bra and panties and climb into the shower.
At 7:55, I was walking across the school parking lot. Kara and Brandon had both already beaten me there. Before I'd left the house, I'd checked my messages; two of them had been from Kara and one from Brandon. I clutched my books against my chest as if they were a shield and headed up the steps into school. I couldn't wait to get this day over with.
As I walked down the crowded hallway, Brandon took me by surprise when he stepped into place beside me. "Hey, Addie," he said with a smile, sliding his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close against his side for a hug. "Happy Birthday, sweetheart."
"Thanks, Brandon," I replied, returning his hug.
"This is for you." He pulled his arm from behind his back and produced a single red rose that he held between his fingertips. His arm fell from around my shoulders as we came to a stop beside the stairs.
"No thorns," he said, handing it to me and I looked up into his handsome face and smiled. Brandon was dressed in jeans and a white polo shirt. He'd spiked his blond hair with gel this morning.
"Thank you." I lifted the rose and gently sniffed the subtle but heady flowery scent. It was beautiful, and so typical of Brandon. His thoughtfulness could make me smile even on the worst of days.
"You're welcome," he replied with a grin. "Speaking of thorns, Kara has a surprise for you. Sorry, I had to ditch you last night."
"It's okay." I noticed the happy expression he wasn't quite subduing. "By the way you're smiling, I trust everything went well."
"Oh, yeah," he said, arching his brownish blond brows suggestively.
"You're awful!" I giggled, lightly tapping the bloom of the rose against his nose.
His expression was mischievous. "Awfully sexy." He winked back at me. The bell rang. We were both going to be late. "Get to class," he ordered. Then he spun around and headed back down the hall looking over his shoulder as he walked away with a swagger that only Brandon could pull off.
Inside the stairwell, I hurried up the steps then raced down the hall toward Mr. Shilon's room. He was getting ready to shut the door when he saw me and paused to hold it open for me. "Good Morning, Ms. Hayes. Running a tad bit late, aren't we?"
"Sorry," I replied, as I slipped past him.
I searched for Kara and found her sitting by the window. On the empty desk in front of her sat a single chocolate frosted cupcake atop a napkin. She smiled as I walked toward her and slid into the chair.
"Happy Birthday," she whispered.
I glanced over my shoulder. "Thanks, Kara."
"Hurry and eat it before crudge munger makes you throw it away."
I turned around and opened my book as Mr. Shilon called roll then began peeling the paper wrapper from around the bottom of my cupcake. He called my name, and I raised my hand.
Silence fell.