Barely Holding On

(3) Exhaustion

By the time the end of the school day rolls around, I am exhausted. Not only physically exhausted but mostly mentally and emotionally exhausted. I had to endure stares and whispers thrown my way all day after the incident with Dylan. I mean seriously? Do people not have their own lives to deal with? Pathetic really. All I did was ignore all of them and kept my head held high. I am currently walking out of my last class, hightailing it to the front doors of the school, just wanting to go home and sleep.

I know by now Thomas and Alicia will be walking straight for me to get answers, but right now I couldn't find the energy to do so. Don't get me wrong, my friends mean everything to me and I appreciate them more than anything but, sometimes there are certain things just for my mind only. Plus, if Alicia found out what Dylan said about me in class she would probably do something illegal. Therefore, it is in everyone's best interest to keep that small piece of information from her.

Reaching the schools doors, I exit and take a deep breath feeling as though I've escaped an actual prison. I can't help but smile slightly that I can leave all the whispers and rumors circling around the entire school behind. At least for the rest of the day. 

My celebration is soon short lived when a hand comes out of nowhere and pulls me against the side of the school. I can't help the scream that comes out of my mouth while also struggling against the person holding me in place. At this point, my mind goes into hyperactive mode and I can feel my anxiety start to raise, feeling as though there is a panic attack right on the horizon. My breathing starts to pick up and I can vaguely make out the four people in front of me. This scene is too familiar, too similar, this cannot be happening again, not at my school in broad daylight—

"Yo priss, shut the fuck up."

The voice is familiar, as in I know it personally. I can now feel the lack of pressure on my arm and I start to feel myself calm down slowly. I look in front of me and see four figures finally coming into focus. Blinking a couple of times, I can see the four figures, all wearing different expressions. On the far right I see confusion, on the far left I see amusement. Beside him I can see a blank yet somewhat worried expression and lastly there's Dylan. Not surprisingly, all I can see is from him is anger and hatred. Since I am still trying to calm myself down, I cannot bring myself to speak yet, but Dylan doesn't seem to have a problem with continuing the one-sided conversation.

"Look, just chill the fuck out, all I wanted was to ask what you meant in the cafeteria by 'nothing'? You were so adamant on knowing 'the truth' yet you completely shut down the whole confrontation for no reason and without your answer. Why is that? What are you planning?"

At first, I was stunned that he was asking about that one simple thing, and mostly since he realized that something was off with how I just ended the conversation. Although I was shocked, I was also a little bit excited since my plan has worked whether he knew it or not. I could plant confusion and interest in Dylan so much, he decided to confront me. I try not to show my satisfaction in order not to blow my cover, so I simply answer him.

"Nothing. I didn't mean anything by it and that's why I said 'nothing'."

Dylan's eyes squint a bit and I can see his fists slightly tightening. He takes a small step closer to me and I instinctively take a step back, hitting my back against the brick wall of the school.

"Now you listen to me, I don't know who the fuck you think you are, or what you're playing at but you better watch yourself."

"Look Dylan and friends, all I want to know is why you hate me so much and then we can all go on our merry way and pretend this whole thing never happened—"

"Wow, are you really going to stick with this clueless act? You really are a bitch."

Surprisingly, that didn't come from Dylan but one of his friends, the one who looked amused earlier about my distressed state. Now though, he looks angrier than Dylan and that kind of scared me. No! I will not fear these assholes, I need to be strong. I will always act strong, I must. Standing up straight and staring at all four of them I stand my ground.

"Now look who needs to chill. Look, my name is Evelyn Mae, I get A's and B's in school, I have two best friends and I hate fake people. Whatever you think I did, think again, and get your facts straight. I didn't do anything, at least not to any of you. So, before you go around pointing fingers and acting like a bunch of assholes, don't."

With that little monologue, I turned and walked away without giving any of them a second glance. Hopefully that little blurb helps to plant more curiosity into their pretty little heads, I need to find out where Dylan's  hatred comes from.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving home, I can see my fathers' car in the driveway. Since today is Monday, that means tonight is our weekly "family" dinner. Yay. Note the sarcasm. I park into the driveway and turn the car off, taking a couple of deep breaths before leaving my car and heading towards my house. 

Upon entering I can smell various alcohols wafting throughout the air. Not that I was surprised, this is a regular occurrence, but I was only taken aback by how strong the small was. Usually it is only this prominent on a weekend night, never during the week. Hearing footsteps, I turn to my left and see my father coming out of the kitchen with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other.

"I ordered Chinese. Should be here in about 45 minutes."

Without waiting for my response, my father continues walking, chugs his beer until it is empty and leaves to who knows where. I quickly jog up to my room, shut my door and go straight to my bed. Staring at my blank ceiling, I start to think. Today I confronted Dylan and his friends, which isn't a big deal in my opinion but the anger two of them had for me is making me second guess my decision. Is it worth it? Who cares if people hate me? Truth was, I do. I can't stand knowing they hate me, I need to know the reason and see if I can fix it. I have never interacted with them before so maybe they are mixing me up with someone else. That seems to be the only plausible explanation. What feels like hours of contemplating my decisions, my father calls me downstairs for dinner. I reluctantly get up from my bed and drag myself downstairs. My father is already making his plate, so I sit across from him at the head of the kitchen table. After about 15 minutes I am surprised to hear him start a conversation.

"You know, Chinese food was her favorite. We used to have it every Friday before you were born. Oh yes, we did so much before you were born. We loved each other. She loved me damnit!"

Before I could react, he picked up his almost empty beer bottle and threw it in my direction. Thankfully, because of his drunken state, he missed my head by mere inches and the bottle shattered on the wall behind me. I could make out that my father is still yelling but I was too stunned to comprehend what  he was saying. I slowly turn my head to look at the broken bottle laying on the floor behind me. This isn't the first time my father has acted out like this, but it never fails to surprise and scare me. Not wasting anymore time, I run upstairs to my room and lock the door behind me, hearing loud footsteps following me. My whole body suddenly jerks out of reflex when my whole bedroom door shakes from a forceful hit. My father starts to repeatedly hit and punch my door, something he has never done before. He usually just lets me stay in my room without bothering me.

"Come out here you stupid bitch! You are so useless and fucked up Evelyn, do you know that? Everyone hates you, because you are nothing. Your mom, my wife, left because of you! It is all your fault you piece of shit. You—"

I angrily wipe away the one tear that happens to escape and make sure no other tears escape. I try to block out his hateful words, but it was hard to ignore. What he was saying was all true, I am fucked up. More than anyone realizes but nobody needs to know. My mom hates me, my dad hates me, hell, even random strangers like Dylan and his friends hate me.

So here I sit on my bed listening to my father yell the truth about me that I try to ignore daily through the door. After about 40 minutes, my dad leaves the house and I am finally alone in a house filled with silence. I end up sleeping for one hour before I wake up and struggle to go back to sleep.