To Offset The Shakes (Andy Hurley)

That Blade Is My Best Friend (Elizabeth's POV)

"How was school, hun?" my mom asked.

"Same as yesterday," I shrugged.

"And how was yesterday?" she asked.

"Same as the day before," I said.

"Libbie," she said.

"Mom," I said.

"I've noticed you have not been yourself for the past couple of months or so, so I was wondering if you'd want to sit down and talk?" she asked.

"Not really," I said.

"Ok," she sighed. "Then would you talk to a therapist?"

"Maybe," I said. "It depends on who though."

"Well, I know this really good one downtown," she said. "Her name is Meagan. I've known her for a while and she's a really good listener. I could give her a call?"

"Sure," I said.

"Alright, now why don't you head upstairs and do your homework? I'll call you down when supper is ready," she said.

"Alright," I said, grabbing my backpack and running up the stairs.

As I got into my room, I closed the door behind me, then put a chair in front of it. I threw my backpack on the bed next to me, then reached behind my headboard. I grabbed the utility knife blade I had taped back there. I gently held it in my hand as I pulled my shirt sleeve up. I looked at the scars and fresh cuts already on my arm, the words of the kids echoing through my head. "Just go die already," "Nobody wants you here anyway," "You fucking faggot," "You're a fucking emo freak," "No wonder why your dad left, you're crazy," and so on. It's things like that that get said to me every day. Literally. But I've never told anyone, except my best friend Mia. I can't tell her anything anymore though... I'm still in denial that she killed herself over the Summer and I still blame myself. If my mom would have let me go over to her house that day, she would still be here. I should have snuck out and gone anyway...

With all of those memories and images flooding my head once again, I gripped the blade and dragged it across my skin, leaving trails of blood behind it. I couldn't help but smile at the satisfaction it brought. The other cuts I had made this morning were opening up from the blade pulling at the skin. Once I was mostly satisfied with my job, I wiped the blade off with a tissue and taped it back to my headboard. I grabbed another tissue and dabbed my cuts, keeping it there until the bleeding stopped for the most part. I grabbed band-aids from my bottom drawer, then covered the cuts. After that, I pulled my sleeve back down and started my homework as if nothing happened.

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"Libbie! Supper's ready!" my mom yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

I lifted my head from my Spanish book. I fell asleep again. I wiped the drool from my book and cheek, then put my paper in the book and closed it. I cleaned up a little, then moved the chair from my door and walked down the stairs. My mom smiled at me as I walked into the dining room, so I returned the smile as much as I could. She brought everything out onto the table, then handed me a plate.

"So, I called Meagan," my mom said as she sat down.

"Oh?" I asked.

"She said she has an opening tomorrow at two," my mom said. "I know that means I'll have to get you from school early, but I don't think you're going to complain about that too much."

"Sounds good to me," I chuckled a little.

"Good," my mom smiled. "You know Elizabeth, I think this will be good for you. If you won't talk to me, I'm just glad you're talking to someone."

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Time Lapse: Tomorrow at 1:30 P.M.

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"Mr. Wickman, can I please go now?" I asked, grabbing my books.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said. "You got the assignment right?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Alright, then go ahead," he said.

"Thanks," I said, getting up from my desk and walking towards the door.

As I got into the hallway, I was practically powerwalking to my locker. I wanted to get there right away so I could leave. As I rounded the corner to the hallway where my locker was, I got stopped by Nick and his stupid gang of friends.

"Where do you think you're going, fag?" Nick asked.

"T-To my locker," I said.

"Why?" he asked.

"My mom is picking me up. My grandma's in the hospital," I lied.

"Oh, she probably deserved it," Nick laughed, making his asshole friends laugh too.

"C-Can I please just go?" I asked.

Nick glared at me then shoved me into the lockers to my left. I winced as pain shot through my shoulder, then Nick and his friends walked away as they laughed. I picked my books up from the floor, grabbing my sketchbook first. I never let that thing out of my sight. As I composed myself, I got to my locker and put my things into my bag, then slammed my locker and practically ran to the office. I signed out, then walked outside and waited for my mom. She was late, as usual, but I was used to it. After waiting for a good ten minutes, she finally pulled up in front of the school.

"Lib, I'm so sorry I'm late," she apologized right away.

"It's ok," I said, not really caring.

As my mom kept explaining why she was late, I put my headphones in and started blaring Of Mice & Men. It was better than listening to my mom making up some bullshit as to why she was late. It's always because of work, but her and I both know it's the married guy she's been sleeping around with.

Once she finally pulled up in front of a tall building downtown, her and I both got out and I took my headphones out. We walked into the room, then went to the front desk and my mom explained why we were there. As we sat down, I glanced at the clock and saw that it was one fifty-five. Five minutes early. Way to go mom.

"Elizabeth?" a lady called me back.

"Good luck," my mom said.

I followed the lady to the back of the hallway, then down another hallway, and finally into a room. Another lady, who I'm assuming was Meagan, stood up and ushered me to sit down on the couch.

"How are you doing today, Elizabeth?" Meagan asked.

"Please, call me Libbie," I said. "and ok, I guess."

"Alright, Libbie," she smiled. "How was school today? I bet you're happy you got out early, especially on a Friday."

"Yeah, can't complain," I said.

"Is there anything you'd like to specifically talk about today?" Meagan asked.

"Um, no," I shrugged, making it obvious I was lying.

"Libbie, you can trust me, ok? What we talk about in this office stays in this office, unless you give me permission to tell your mom, alright? You can talk to me about everything. I know therapy is kind of weird at first, but I'm just here to listen and be your friend," she smiled.

"O-Ok, well, I get bullied a lot at school..." I said.

"Do you know why?" she asked, scribbling something down.

"Mostly because I don't have a dad. Well, I do, but I don't know who it is," I said.

"Have you talked to your mom about it?" she asked.

"I've wanted to, but I'm afraid she won't tell me about him," I admitted.

"Well, the best thing you can do is to gently approach the subject. Ask her about him sometime and see what she says," Meagan said. "It can't hurt to ask. After all, a child deserves to know who their father is."