Two Broken Souls

chapter twenty-two

One week later...

At school, I catch myself staring out the window and I think: How long was I doing that? I look around to see if anybody noticed, half expecting them to be staring at me, but no one is looking.

This seems to be happening in every period. I'm not aware of what's happening anymore.

In English, I open my book because the teacher is reading, and everyone else is reading along. Even though I hear the words, I forget them as soon as they're said. I hear fragments of things but nothing whole.

Relax.

After class, I head for the back of the school. Once I'm up and out in the fresh air, I open the book again. I read the same passage over and over, thinking maybe if I just get away by myself, I'll be able to focus better, but the second I'm done with one line and move on to the next, I've forgotten the one that came before.

At lunch, I sit with my friends. They are talking about some party that they have to go to. We all have to go to it because it's almost the end of the year and pretty soon we will all be going our separate ways.

Honestly, I feel like once we all graduate, we're never going to see each other again. What if the only reason I have friends is the fact that we all go to the same school and occasionally party with each other?

Because I'm surrounded by people but I am alone.

They are talking to me and around me, but I can't hear them. I pretend to be interested in one of my books, but the words dance on the page, and so I tell my face to smile so that no one will see, and I smile and nod and I do a pretty good job.

Until until Paige says, "You're pretty quiet." She noted. "Everything okay?" She took a bite of her slice of pizza that she bought for everyone.

She had a doctors appointment earlier and decided to come back to school for one more period. I don't know why she didn't just go home. She's always complaining about being tired. She could've taken a nap.

I put my book down and look up at her. "I'm just a bit tired." I excuse myself from the table and just walk away.

I didn't really have a destination in mind, so I just went to the farthest bathroom I could think of. The girls bathroom that was located all the way on the other side of school. It should be empty right now since lunch is still in session. 

I hear the door slam shut behind me. I'm looking at myself in the mirror trying to compose myself before I start crying.

In French class, Mrs. Bassett stands at the board and reminds us once again that just because we're seniors and this is our last semester, we do not get the privilege of slacking off. we have to work hard for these last three months.

As she talks, I write, but the same thing happens as when I was trying to read. I know the words are there. I can see them. And the next thing I know, they're gone.

It's hard to describe, but I imagine the way I am at this moment is a lot like getting sucked into a darkness. Everything is just dark and doesn't make any sense. Like this weight is pulling me down, and it's like it latches onto me and refuses to leave even when I beg it to do so.

Everyone thinks that I am doing better. And that's a good thing. I don't like people worrying about me. If I just keep pretending, force myself to just smile, then that will make everyone happy.

I think through everything, but in the end the weight is heavier, as if it's moving up the rest of my body and sucking me down.

The bell rings and I look around only to see Harry watching me carefully. He walks me to my locker and holds my hand and something about this just feels natural. He kisses me on my cheek and I give him my best smile. 

"I'm going to the library," I say after a while of us just standing at my locker.

"Do you want some company?" He asked. I nod my 'no' head and leave him standing there.

The truth is, I'm scheduled to meet Dr. Vaughn now.
I just haven't told Harry I'm in therapy. I have a note from her allowing me to leave school early for our meeting. I'm not exactly in a rush to get there, but I somehow manage to show up on time. I'm just afraid that Dr. Vaughn will notice something is up.

I sat in my little corner and pulled out my notebook to try and keep myself busy before my appointment and an envelope fell out. I didn't realize what it was at first until I opened it.

A sucide note from that night on the bridge.

I never know if I should write one or not and I don't know why I question it. I always end up writing one. I make a mental note to put it back in my box that I've hid in my closet.

Because in some weird way, I kind of liked it. The sort of sick satisfaction I get from tearing myself apart. Because at least it meant that I had something worth tearing myself over. It was like a game. And either way, I'd lose.

Dr. Vaughn called me in and she immediately wanted to know what's wrong and why I look like this, and does it have something to do with turning eighteen soon. It's not that, I tell her.

The thing is, I don't know what is bothering me. I'm sad for no reason. I don't know why I even cry.

"Then what is it? What's going on with you, Mia?"

I have to give her something so I just tell her the truth because I honestly don't think that I have anything left to lose right now.

"I just feel sort of empty right now. I have nothing going on until graduation in two months." She nods along to prove that she is listening. "I'm not suicidal, but I'm exactly fighting to live right now." I stand up from where I'm sitting. "I don't know why I don't want to live I tell her. Nothing happened to me as a child. I just woke up one day and it was like this voice telling me I should just end my life and it hasn't left ever since." I confess and my goodness it felt good.

But now comes the part I was worried about. What if she makes me go to a mental institution? What if she tell my parents? What if she leaves me because she doesn't want to deal with this?

She is frowning at me and for a moment I think that she is about to cry. "I'm sorry that you've had to deal with this in your young life." I know that she has empathy towards me, but it doesn't make me feel any better. "You're not alone, Mia."

I hate that saying.

Everyone is alone, but not everyone is lonely.