***1st Place Winner in Teen Fiction for the Undiscovered Writer Awards***
***One of the EarnestyWriterAwards favorite female leads***
Lulu's mom is sick and Lulu desperately wants to be free of all her troubles so she convinces herself that she no l...
"Lulu. There was nothing I could do." He chastised her like a little girl.
Her fists clenched so hard, her nails dug into her hand drawing blood. The blood, she was familiar with. The cold in her bones matching the cold outside was an old friend. What she didn't recognize, was the cruelty in Zac's voice. Not even when they fought before, did he sound so uncaring, so faded, like a stranger had taken his body.
"You could've helped," she insisted angrily.
"Helped?" he scoffed. "I've helped enough people and nothing good has come of it. You know, it's ironic. I was named for a prophet who saw visions, and I was left blinded for trying to do the right thing. Where is my miracle? Where's God's help when I need it?" he spat bitterly.
Lulu reached out and took his hand, trying to convey all her feelings into that touch. He finally turned to her, and she could see the muscles in his jaw clench tightly.
"Whatever we have going on, I think we should end it."
"What?"
"It's better like this, Lulu, trust me." He sounded kinder now, letting her down easy, but she wasn't going to take it lying down.
"Who are you to tell me what's better for me?"
"Fine. It's better for me, too. I don't want to be with you. I thought I did. I thought my feelings for you were something more than... curiosity." His words were cutting.
The earthquake he'd become long ago shook her world again.
Magnitude 8.
"Curiosity?" Her voice was barely a whisper above the pouring rain.
"Lulu, I care about you, but what I feel about you hasn't changed, hasn't grown like it should, you know?"
She recoiled in fear—not of him but of his implications. He was saying everything she never wanted to hear. Couldn't. Not again, not again. Matty had said the same thing. They couldn't love her and they wouldn't let her waste their time. She watched as the tiny thread that had gotten loose in her chest began unraveling. Blue thread spinning her until she ripped open at the shoddy stitch job she'd hastily sewn closing the wound the hurricane had left reopened by the earthquake.
Magnitude 9.
"No, I don't." His hand slipped from her grasp and he took a step away from her.
"It's not working out. Sorry."
Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears and her hand went to her belly, clutching it painfully. She was fighting to keep herself together and not shatter to pieces irreparably in front of him.
"I don't understand," she said.
"It's not that complicated. This is over. We can't be friends anymore." No, they couldn't. She could never go back to being his friend. He'd meant too much to her in the short time they'd spent together. Whatever she thought she'd had with him had been nothing but a trial run. A sample before buying the whole product.
He didn't leave. His face was passive as he stared out blindly into the rain. He was there but he wasn't with her anymore, and she was utterly alone standing next to him.
Lulu almost ran away, desperate to find shelter. She lunged into the nearest restroom once she was inside the building and pulled out what she'd vowed to never use again. But today had proved something, a finality she'd been expecting, and fearing since her mom died. Nothing was keeping her here anymore, and nothing ever would again. Matty had been her final hope, then Zac had proved to be something more than hope. Zac had been real, tangible until he shattered the illusion.
In her nail-torn palm, which was still red with blood, she held a silver razor blade, thin as a leaf. In front of the mirror, she pulled up her top to reveal her belly, which was crisscrossed with thin scars from her navel down. Lulu had dismantled one of her father's razors when she was thirteen, after Zac's accident. That was the first cut.
Taking a paper towel from the dispenser, she held it above her waistband. She touched the cold metal to her stomach, onto soft skin between two old scars, and pressed firmly, feeling her body heat up as the blade sliced it open. As the blood trickled down her abdomen and onto the paper towel, the door flew open and Lulu scrambled to hide what she was doing. Ava stood frozen in horror, her eyes nearly popping out of her skull as she took in the bloody napkin and razor blade in Lulu's hands.
"Oh, my gosh, Lulu. What are you doing?" Her voice caught at the end and she began to cry. She brought her hand up to her mouth, trying to hold back a sob. Ava took a cautious step forward, as if Lulu were a child holding a gun.
"Get away from me," Lulu hissed.
"Please, put that down, Lulu," Ava begged, holding her hands up.
Lulu realized she'd been holding the razor up defensibly, and shakily put it away in her jeans' pocket. She swallowed hard and looked to Ava who still looked scared, but pityingly at Lulu.
"I didn't mean to..." Lulu trailed off. "I need to go." "Wait! Please, tell me what's going on. Let me help you."
"You've helped enough. Telling Matty where I was—you ruined everything." "No, it wasn't me, I promise." "No one else knew!"
"Your dad came to my house, Lulu. I told him you weren't home, so he called Matty. That's it, I swear."
"Then how did Matty know?"
"Who else did you tell?"
Lulu stayed quiet. She already knew the answer. "Liam. He must have told Gemma."
And Gemma must have told Matty, but why?
Ava was still inching her way to Lulu, but Lulu was too distracted to notice until a hand touched hers gently.
"Let me help you," Ava said. Lulu shook her off and walked to the door. "Lulu!"
"Don't tell anyone what you saw, please." Ava swallowed hard, but Lulu knew she wouldn't tell anyone.
"Where are you going?" Ava asked.
"Home."
"I'll go with you."
"No. I need to be alone."
Ava rushed to her side and wrapped her up in her arms tightly. "Promise me you'll be okay," she whispered into Lulu's ear with a desperation Lulu had never heard before. It was a promise she could make, but not one she knew she could keep. How could she be fine in the midst of her own apocalypse?
"Yeah. I need to go." Lulu pried Ava's arms from around her and walked away, determined to get as far from them all as possible.
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I debated on whether or not to use this bit of information about Lulu in the story or to keep it to myself and to drop hints about it only. To me, Lulu has never been strong, and she's suffered so much that the reality of troubled teens is very similar to what she does. This has long been a coping mechanism and I experienced this first hand through my friends, who suffered far fewer troubles than she has. I hope this hasn't disturbed anyone too much and hope you'll continue to read on.
