For Crying Out Loud

17: Erupting

Sierra's P.O.V.

     When I get home, everything happens pretty quickly. You see, I am not just severely depressed and severely amazing at pretending I'm not, but I'm also severely bipolar. So when I get home I have a civil conversation with my mom and go to bed, but I don't sleep. I explode.

     The faults in constantly lying to yourself and pretending to be okay so everyone else will be okay and everything around you can be okay is that you're never truly honest. So the honesty of your emotions slide into the deepest trenches of your soul until you erupt. It's been a week. I finally erupt.

     "Fuck." Fuck fuck fuck! I write the word over and over on blue post its  and slam them on my wall. Again and again and again. Then other words come to mind- none very pleasant- and before long I finish the whole pack of blue post it's. I go to the gigantic blue book in which I have cut a hole in and pull out another pack.

Step one to survive myself: never run out of blue post it's.

     Words turn to phrases and phrases turn to paragraphs scribbled in the notebook I keep on my bed-side table. None of it really makes sense, but usually it helps. Tonight, it doesn't help. I throw the notebook at the mirror. I make no noise, but the shattering of glass wakes my mom. She comes to the door and knocks twice.

     "Sweety, are you alright?" She asks, her words are slightly smothered due to the fact she is obviously pressed against the door.

     "Yeah Mom, I'm okay. I promise. I just fell and hit the mirror." I say it so calmly, it scares me slightly.

Step two to survive myself: know how to lie perfectly.

     "Okay baby, if you need me don't be scared to come get me." And she leaves.  I want to yell at her for falling for it, but she always falls for it.

     I slide down to the floor and put my head in my hands. I don't cry. I can't remember the last time I cried during an eruption. I just sit there and breathe as shallowly as I can. I will continue to lie to everyone. I will continue to lie to myself. These are my consequences. I will ignore them until they are gone. I will lie until it's true. I'm glad he's gone. I'm glad I lost the baby. I'm glad I'm moving on. I'm glad. I'm glad. I'm so fucking glad.

     There are many levels to my episodes:
1. Crack
2. Break-down
3. Erupt
4. Black-out
5. Attempt
6. Succeed

Step three to survive myself: never succeed. Never reach six. Never die.

Jake's P.O.V.

     I drive by her house three times that night. The fourth route, I go home because I feel like a stalker.

     When I get home, My mother is there- already having my mess cleaned- and Amy sits next to her on the couch. Mom has always like Amy more than Sia. She never had a reason, she just did.

     I look at them both coldly before taking off my jacket and shoes. I walk right past them, up the stairs, to my room. I pray Amy doesn't follow, but, of course, she does. She's always been the type to follow me. I guess that's why I did what I did. I liked the feeling of leading. Little did I know, I couldn't lead worth a damn, and Amy wound up controlling me, causing me to lose Sierra, and now we're in the messy square space I call my room.

     "You've been avoiding me." She says matter-of-factly as she takes a seat on my bed. The wrong seat. That's Sierra's seat.

     "Get off that general area. Sit over here if you're so determined to talk." I say annoyed. I hope it was enough to make her storm out, but it isn't. She is the type to walk away, but she isn't the type to walk away from me.

     She moves and sits on the computer chair near the closet where I stand looking for clothes. She repeats herself. "You've been avoiding me."

     "I've been avoiding everyone." I say, my voice full of malice. She still doesn't walk away.

     "Why?"

     I groan and yank a T-shirt from my closet, breaking the hanger. I hear her gasp a little, but she still stays. "Because I have nothing to say to the world. Yet along you. The only person I want to talk to is the person that you took me from. The girl who lost my baby. The girl who tried to kill herself. The girl who is glad I'm gone."

     She puffs her cheeks and purses her lips like she always does when she is thinking. During this time, I change my shirt and rid myself of my jeans so I'm left in boxers and a grey Tee.  "You can't blame me for her stupid decisions." She finally says.

     I look at her then. I glare at her as coldly as I can, and between clenched teeth I erupt in a low growl. "Her decisions weren't stupid. Mine were. Leaving her for you was stupid. Allowing shit to go this far was stupid. I'm not blaming you. I'm not blaming her. I'm not blaming anyone. I'm blaming me, but I don't want to look at you. I don't want to look at me. I don't want to look at anyone. I want to look at her. You see, because the differences between you and her are unlimited, but the main difference is that I love her. I always have. I don't love you. I never did. Now. I would like to sleep. So please leave." And finally. She walks away.

______~|~
So here is the thing about Jake an Sierra. They are both different parts of me. I've been both of them. Felt like both of them. That is how I know how real this is. The emotion is raw. It's real. Things like this actually happen. People actually feel this way. I know, because I have. I have Sierra's depression. I have Jake's uncertainty. Both of their characteristics are built off of me and people I know. Amy is out of the picture. Precious is showing up in it. Jake and Sia are both breaking. Erupting. Everything is shattered. VOTE! COMMENT! TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! LOVE YOU MY DARKLINGS!