Evelyn's Lesson In Recovery

Part Two: This Can't Be Happening To Me

FIVE YEARS LATER

AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS IS PART TWO, EVELYN IS A SOPHOMORE IN HIGH SCHOOL AND HER PROBLEMS RETURN.

I lock myself in the bathroom and pull out my blade. My boyfriend said I deserve this. Maybe I'll actually die this time. I dig it into my arm and draw it across. I wince as the pain and blood appear moments later. I do this multiple times, trying to get rid of the sadness and weight in my chest. I send him a text about this and he replies "I'm glad you got what you deserve for loving your foster mom." I realize something is wrong when the bleeding doesn't stop. I stumble out of the bathroom, dizzy and terrified.

I go to the kitchen where Suzanne, my foster mom, is making dinner. She screams and drops the bowl that was in her hands when she sees the blood running down my arm and dripping onto the floor. "Evelyn, did you do this to yourself?" she asks me. I nod. She makes me sit down and she uses a dish towel to put pressure on the cuts. I soon bleed through the dish towel.

"Mark!!!!! Call 911!!!!!!!" she screams. My heart starts racing. Julio will be mad at me for telling her what happened.I don't want to go back to the hospital. It would be the third time this month I'd have to go. I don't want to because of all their questions and judging. It's too scary.

The minutes pass like hours. Two ambulance workers come into the house and address me by name, knowing me from the last time this happened. "Hey, Evelyn. Let's get you taken care of." Emmalyn says. I sigh and let myself be lifted onto a stretcher. They tie a tourniquet around my elbow to try to stop the bleeding.

I'm rushed to the hospital and the doctor I had last time comes into the trauma bay I'm in. "Hi, Evelyn. It's frustrating to see you here again." he says. Julio rushes in. "Hey baby. Are you okay?" he asks me, pretending to be okay that I ended up here. I roll my eyes. My head spins with dizziness from seeing so much blood. The doctor stabs a syringe in my arm, causing me to cry out and try to hit him. Suzanne grabs my arm and holds it down. He finishes stitching the cuts and bandaging my arm. "Suzanne, I think it's time she gets put back in therapy." he says.

I shake my head, too afraid to speak. Julio gives me a harsh glance. "Yes, Evelyn. You're going to go back to therapy, but you're going to someone you already know. It'll be less.....traumatic that way." Suzanne says. Oh no. I'm not going back to the therapist I had when I was a little kid. She asked too many questions and pushed me too much. I don't want to go!!

We leave the hospital and go back home. "Evelyn, I'm putting you back in therapy because it's what's best for you. You know Harper is very compassionate and kind. You trust her. It won't be scary." Suzanne says. I don't respond, Julio must be so mad at me. As soon as we pull into the driveway, I run inside, fear making me feel sick. I run to the bathroom and throw up, overwhelmed with anxiety. Suzanne stands in the doorway and sighs.

"You are going back to therapy." she confirms. I groan and rinse out my mouth. I lay down in bed and try to fall asleep. I can't. My mind keeps drifting back to how horrible it will be to go back to therapy. It's always been terrifying. I can't speak, my mind races, and I always embarrass myself. I sigh and finally fall asleep.

THREE DAYS LATER

"Evelyn, get up!!!" Suzanne screams from the kitchen. I cover my head with the pillow. I don't want to get up. I'm tired of going to school; everyone bullies me. I don't want to go to therapy because I'm way too anxious. I go to the bathroom and cut myself shallowly. There's only twenty very shallow cuts on my right arm. I go back to my room and pull my hair into a bun. I put sunglasses on to hide the bruise on my eye from Julio's last fit. I throw on sweat pants and a hoodie. I check my phone and see Julio texted me. "You are in big trouble. You weren't supposed to go to the hospital and land yourself in therapy." it says. I put my phone in my pocket and I go to the kitchen to see Suzanne made breakfast.