The Makeover

45

In the past, I had never thought of myself as a bad person, but maybe I was.

I was in denial at first. So what if I posted that message on the school's page for everyone to see? So what if I ruined the perfect image she had built for herself? So what if I exposed something that no one had been told? Except for Alex, as far as I knew. Who cared?

I started getting calls the morning after, mainly from Alex, which surprised me because I'm sure he had his own issues to deal with. People from school too, probably hoping I'd know something and tell them it was all true since Annastacia and I were so close. I didn't answer any of it.

I reread it often and the more I did, the worst I felt. Maybe it did matter. Maybe I had done something terrible - something I couldn't come back from. Annastacia had hurt me a lot. I knew that. But it didn't justify me doing this. Nothing could.

I stayed inside for three days. For the first two, I felt empty. I lay there, eating very little, speaking even less. My thoughts circled around in my head, and I watched them. No reaction. The third day felt like hell. The guilt finally got to me, and its grip was suffocating. I cried silently but it felt like a crime. I hadn't earned the right to cry. In those moments, it felt as if I would never forgive myself.

It was morning again, and all I had done since waking up was look up at the ceiling, the plain white colour the opposite of how I felt. Inside, the paintbrush in my hand, driven by the anger I felt towards myself, and messy strokes slathered the inner walls of my body, red, blue, a deep, dark blue that soaked deep into my heart. I painted my thoughts too - filled with self-loathing and disgust - a green colour that discolored everything else. I hated myself.

I hate myself.

Today, the tears didn't fall silently. They gushed out, and all that was left was this despair that felt like a punch to the gut anytime a sob escaped. I had almost forgotten this feeling - a feeling that could only be described as wanting to disappear, completely. It surrounded me, and it was like drowning.

The sound of yet another call, begging to be answered, filled the room. I almost didn't pick it up, but it was Jake's grandpa.

I rushed to the hospital.

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Jake was in his bed, a bouquet of flowers on the bedside table, probably dropped off by his gran. 

He looked thinner than when I had seen him last. There wasn't much of a difference but it managed to make him look unwell. But he wasn't really well, was he? 

A comic book was on his lap and he paged through it weakly, a slight tremor in his hands. Light shone through the window, casting an angelic glow onto his face. Despite everything, my heart still beat faster when I saw him. 

He must have heard me come in because his eyes moved from his book to me, and those hazel eyes made my walls crash down. I ran towards him, the tears from earlier making a grand return. My arms wrapped around him and I breathed him in. He still smelled like cinnamon. It made me cry harder. He didn't speak, only placed a reassuring hand on my back and held me as tight as he could.

I was so glad he was awake.

"I'm sorry," escaped, snivels breaking those two words into five. "I was so scared."

He still said nothing, but his face pushed itself further into my shoulder. I realised he was crying too. I pulled away from him and held his face in my hands. His nose was a soft pink colour and even though he looked so sad, his eyes were shining brightly. He looked so young and vulnerable.  "I'm happy you came."

"Me too." His blue smile was contagious. "Your grandpa..." The next words were going to be difficult to get out. I took a deep breath, trying to gain the courage to say them.

"You don't have to." He said, the sadness on his face becoming greater. 

We sat in silence. I reached my hand out and enveloped mine over his. This felt right.

"I love you." It slipped out quickly, but I couldn't even feel embarrassed about it. I had to say it. I needed him to know this now more than ever. "No matter how hard I try to convince myself it's not true, there's nothing I can do." I paused, looking up from our hands. "It's been you ever since that second week of classes. You smiled at me and it was over for me. Even though you hurt me, and it really did hurt, none of that changes it. I love you."

He wasn't holding back his tears anymore. They trailed down his cheeks. It only made him look more radiant than before. "I love you, too. I'm sorry for hurting you. I always mess up the good things, and you are the best thing that has ever happened to me." He completely broke down, and he was clutching at the blanket over his legs, the sobs wracking his body.

I placed a hand on his cheek, gently bringing his face closer to mine. Our lips touched, soft and light, and I'm sure we were both crying, holding onto each other hoping that the space between us would always stay this small. 

Long after the kiss, we remained close. I wish visiting hours didn't exist.

As I was leaving, almost out the door, I turned to him. "I did something really bad and I don't know what to do." I took a deep breath. "It's been eating me up inside."

"I'm sure you already know what to do." He said, that little smile on his face. "You'll do the right thing. I know you will."

I held those words in my heart. I still do.

I carried them all the way to Annastacia's house but no one answered. All the lights were off and there were no cars in the driveway. I sent a text to her on the way home, apologising for what I had said. After the post, I expected her to react, to bring me down with her, but there had been nothing, radio silence, which had worried me. It was part of the reason I felt so guilty because I had probably broken Annastacia Roberts: something I hadn't thought was possible.

I set up my camera when I got home. I stared into it for a while not knowing what to say. The words only came after a few minutes.

"Hey, everyone. If you don't know this, my name's Katie Waters. There's something I've been holding in for a few days and to be honest, it's been driving me crazy, but I feel that it's something that all of you should know."

I closed my eyes, readying myself for the next words.

"I uploaded the post about Annastacia. That her real parents abandoned her. And if you read the rest of the post, I pretty much used it as an insult. I wanted to hurt her. I really did. And I thought I would feel better after I said it but it felt awful. It still feels awful.

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry. I stooped really low and that's not the type of person I want to be. And you're all probably going to hate me after this but I'd rather have it be that way than pretending that I did nothing wrong and becoming someone that I'll hate.

 "I think I'll leave it at that. Thanks for listening, and Annastacia, if you're watching this, I hope you're okay."

I stopped the video and posted it.

With a heavy heart, I fell asleep. 

I dreamed of Jake. We were both happy and he was healthy and there was this glittering spark in his eyes. I think I cried in my sleep. 

It wasn't until the next morning that I got the message that he had passed away.