The Emotional Laceration of an American Girl.

Ch. 22

Nicole's POV

"Mom, I'm going to my room," I said and mom nodded. Ever since I came home mom's been bugging me with questions about Prom. I just need a little me time. I open the door to my room and walk in. My room is filled with books and pictures of the world.

It was always my dream to travel around the world but I didn't want to travel by going to different hospitals. I sighed and sat on the bed. When I was little all I could think about was becoming a princess. That was before we found out I had this disease. When I was diagnosed all I wanted to do was get better.

Sure being a princess crosses my mind but I try to think about my life now. Will people remember me? Will I be recognized as a good person? I felt a tear slid down my cheek. Will I be loved? I've never loved so I guess that's the one way my life failed. Every day is a day filled with love that I lose.

I don't want to die this way! I'm still a teenager and I have feelings too! Why did God have to give me this incurable disease? Was I to sinful as a child? I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. As much as I want to blame God for this, I know that I can't. Mom and Dad both love me and wouldn't want me to feel this way but how should I feel?

Should I feel happy that the most stressful years of my life will end early? A lot of kids wish to end their lives so early. Could this be a blessing in disguise? Why does it have to involve me? I'm just a simple girl. A simply girl who wanted to do normal things with normal people. I'm glad Lalita talked to me in 1st grade. We've been best friends since. I don't know what I would've done without her.

Someone knocks on the door and I grunt in response. "Honey dinner is ready," mom said. I sighed and got off the bed. I stand in the doorway with my hand on the light switch. I can't think about these questions. My mom still has hope that I'll get better. I have to think positively. Maybe I'll get lucky. Maybe someone will figure out what's the problem and at least delay the process.

Maybe I'll grow wings and fly into a green sky.

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Lita's POV

I honestly tried to kill myself. I felt the blade slit my throat and yet...I'm lying on the floor. I look up and a semi-bloody knife is on the floor. My hands are around my kneck. I move one away and it burns but I have to know. Did I actually do it?

I looked at my hands and there was only a little blood. What the hell? I have to see what I look like. I struggled to get up the stairs but made it too my bathroom. I slowly moved my other hand and it felt like a band-aid was being removed from a hairy leg. I looked at the damage with anger.

It wasn't deep enough and the cut wasn't long enough. I only did half of the job. I grabbed some bandages from under the sink and wrapped them around my neck. I can't do anything right. This is all my fault. No one loves me. The world would be a better place without me. No one will miss me. Everything I do is useless. Everyone hates me.

"Shut up," I exclaim and punch the wall narrowly missing the mirror. Blood was on the wall but I stared at my hand. What kind of monster am I? I backed up and my back hit the wall. I started to shake my head. "No! This isn't me," I said to myself. This isn't me. I'm not losing my mind. I'm the same old me.

The same old me. The me that always takes orders and does everything perfectly. I don't want to keep living this way but I have to. I have to survive but for who? I don't care about my life but something's keeping me here. "Lita! Where the fuck are you," Dad asks. I put down the bandages and walk down the stairs.

"Lita," he exclaims and I make my presence known by walking louder. Dad turns around and faces me. "There you are. Which tie looks better," he asked. A tie? He had a blue tie with white strips in one hand and a red tie with silver diamonds in the other. "The blue one," I said and he nodded. He took the red tie a wrapped it around my neck in a blink of an eye.