-"Brandon, leave your sister's salad!"—mom said, trying to get my brother's attention.
-"But Nicola is not even eating it!"—Brandon replied back, with his mouth stuffed.
-"Who says I'm not eating it!? Leave my plate! I made this salad, you know!?"—Nicola protested, clearly annoyed at Brandon.
-"Kids, no fighting on the dinner table... on Christmas..."—dad said, clearly uninterested.
-"Brandon, did I hear you got into the mathletes at your college?"—Dustin asked, while fidgeting with his pasta. He was never too fond of Italian food.
-"Oh, yes! I got this awesome offer to get into the team, and next year we're entering regionals..."—Brandon said, still stuffed in his mouth with even more food.
-"Nicola, the pastries are delicious!"—my mom complimented my sister, who was sitting across the table from her—"But next year, I'm cooking."
-"Mom, I'm a chef, ok? I know what I'm doing! Besides, I don't mind..."—Nicola said, as she fidgeted with her food. She had a habit of judging her own cooking whilst on the table.
-"Connor, why aren't you eating?"
I gasped internally at the sudden question. Sasha, who had come to spend Christmas with us and who was sitting across from me in the dining room table, was the one who made the question. Mom and Nicola stopped talking. Dustin was paying attention, just like dad, and Brandon even looked at me as well instead of eating.
Shit.
Everyone's looking at me.
I saw my plate, it was practically full. I hadn't even tried Nicola's cooking...
-"Connor..."—Nicola asked—"Do you... do you not like the food...?"
Of, fuck me.
-"No, of course I like the food!"—I said, immediately regretting it, because well...
-"But Connor"—mom said—", you have not even touched it."
I couldn't find any counter arguments for that, so I did what I do best: I laughed awkwardly like a clueless dork and everyone kind of got a little less tense.
-"Silly me, I don't know why I even said that."—immediately afterwards I took a spoonful of the pasta and started my meal—"I was just distracted! The food's so good, Nicola!"
I saw my sister visibly relax. Even if she does not show it, she really does care when people do not like her food. I can relate, when people don't like my videos I... well, you guys know.
-"Well, if you're not gonna eat it"—Brandon said—"can I have it?"
-"Brandon! Let your brother have his food!"—mom scolded him.
I felt like the waters had calmed. But I couldn't help but notice that Sasha was still looking at me, searching for something out of normal. She can't be sure, though... there is no way that... that she could know...
-"So, Connor"—dad said—", tell us about your tour!"
-"Oh, yeah!"—Nicola said—"When and where? Are all of the guys going?"
Thankfully this is a topic I can talk about. I bet you guys know by now, but back in Playlist Live O2L revealed we are going on a US tour next year. It's a pretty big deal, and we are all very excited. I mean it's going to be a lot of work, especially for me, since I got this... issues... but it's something we've all been looking up to for so long now, not to mention it's more than what any of us could imagine.
-"Well, actually we're starting off in February. We're going to Honolulu!"
-"Oh, Hawaii?"—mom asked—"That's so nice! Do you kids remember our vacations in Hawaii last year?"
-"Yeah, those were amazing"—Dustin said—", how come in February?"
-"Oh, you know"—I said—", since Hawaii is kind of a tough place to get to, we're just doing that first and the rest of the tour will be around June."
-"Wow."—Brandon said—"That's a lot of pressure, bro."
... Sure it was.
-"Oh, come on, Brandon"—Nicola said—", little Connor knows how to handle a crowd. I've seen his performances and he's really good!"
-"Yeah"—Dustin said—", especially for someone who doesn't sing or dance."
-"Hey!"—I said, in pretended offense—"I'm a different kind of performer!"
Thankfully we all laughed at that. But I couldn't help but think about what Brandon had said. I hadn't thought about it before. Why now?
The water level was up to my hips. I looked around me, and saw nothing. It was dark, nighttime, and the sky was clouded. There were no moon or no stars, just open blank space. Around me there was no land, just water. Deep, black water. I was wearing my pajamas, I could tell that much. But I didn't know what I was doing in the middle of nowhere.
Suddenly I was cold. I felt the chill run up my spine, and I couldn't help but to cradle in my own arms, trying to get warm. I saw beneath my feet, and noticed that I was standing over the water, with nothing below me. Only darkness.
-"Where am I?"
My voice echoed in the darkness. The particular smell of seawater invaded my senses, numbing me. I noticed that I was actually wet. Before I noticed how or why, I was sinking. My whole body, bit by bit, descended into the blackness.
-"Help... me..."
There was nothing, there was no one. There was only me and the song. The song that started playing in the distance. Have I heard this before? What is this song?
I was so sleepy... and the water made me numb... and the song kept playing... help... just... close my eyes... everything's so black... I can't see anything... where... where have all the colors gone?
I opened my eyes and gasped a huge gulp of air. I was sweating, and panting desperately. I had dropped the sheets of my bed and I was all alone in my room. If I'd known any better, I would have thought that I had just peed on my bed.
I also noticed I had been sleeping in a fetal position. Strange... I always sleep facing upwards. And what the hell was that just now? A nightmare? Great, add it to the list of shit that I have been going through lately... that one was definitely getting a lot bigger than what it needed.
Why do I have to be so fucked up in the head? I guess all I can do for now is try to relax... I better get to the bathroom and wash my face to get some sleep afterwards.
The house is silent. I have always like coming home here in Minnesota, even if it's just for the holidays, but today, the silence just feels... off. Especially since my parents have recently remodeled the house, this whole place feels a bit too different for me. The bathroom is still the same, though. I got in and washed my face, only to stare at my reflection.
Let me ask you something, ok? But please, don't be weirded out, it's already weird enough as it is. But take a good look at yourself in the mirror. Can you imagine your thoughts coming from the person you see?
I feel like mine can't.
I look at my own image and I don't recognize myself.
What is wrong with me?
I don't have to be too observing to notice that I'm tearing up again. I try to hold it in, but everyone's asleep, I'm alone, and I'm in my own house...
So I cried.
I cried like nobody's watching. I cried like when I was a little kid and I moved cities, leaving my best friends. I cried like that time when I found out my grandmother had died. I cried like I was the most miserable being in the world. And to be quite honest, I don't even know why I'm crying.
All I know is that I need it. I need to cry, because it is one of the few things that allow me to feel something.
Being sad is being something.
Crying means that I can still hurt.
At least I haven't lost that.
I honestly don't know how long I have been here, in this bathroom. I couldn't care less, either. If it were up to me, I would stay here forever and just allow myself to cry. I lied down on the floor, got back into a cuddling position and just laid there. I do not want to leave. I just want to cry.
But then the door knocked.
-"Is... is there someone in there?"
I recognized Sasha's voice. Crap. Had she heard me? I checked the time on my wristwatch which I had somehow forgotten to remove when I got ready for bed. It is 4:30 in the morning. If I recall correctly, I woke up from my nightmare at 2:00. Shit, how long have I been here!?
-"Is it... wait... Connor?"
I won't move. I won't answer. She mustn't know I'm here. She'll suspect.
An eternity goes by with her outside the room, just waiting for a response. I can hear her breathing. In my head, a battle is raging. Maybe I should just let her know, maybe she should see me like this. Maybe she would be sorry for me. Or maybe not. Who the fuck am I to wish for someone to feel sorry for me?
But then she just left. I heard her stepping away towards Dustin's room, so I knew I was left alone. I took a seat on the toilet and just waited. My head is killing me again. Shit. I hadn't had a headache episode in weeks.
The pills are in my room, hidden in my luggage. I can't make my way there. She'll see me. I can't afford to leave this bathroom. But my head is going to destroy me. I need to do something...
My eyes wonder towards the cabinet, and I see dad's razor. No, not again... This is not the answer... I... what do I even do...?
Click.
I snapped my head towards the door. Was that... no it, couldn't be.
Click.
Dammit. The key to the bathroom. She found it somehow. My head is killing me. The pain, it's starting to get stronger. The doorknob is turning, slowly, and the door opens revealing a worried stricken Sasha looking down on me.
Her face... she is horrified.
What did she see?
And why can't I see her?
What is this warmth? What am I feeling on my skin?
Is this... blood...?
I am currently sitting down on my parent's kitchen table. I had a bandage around my left forearm. It doesn't take too much brain to realize what is underneath. There are still blood stains dripping across it. On the table in front of me is a warm cup of tea. And sitting across from me, is Sasha, who has a cup of tea of her own.
-"How long?"—she asks. There is no judgmental looks. There are not misguided questions. She just looks at me, and wonders.
-"... Four months."—I reply. I don't even care what time it is at this point.
-"Why?"—she asks, again. She seems to be trying to understand me. But, she can't fool me...
-"I don't know."—I say—"How long have you known?"
Surprisingly for me, she is not taken unguarded by the question. She was expecting me to ask that.
-"Since you were over to visit on your birthday."—she said.
-"... And why didn't you ask me anything then?"
She took a large sip of her tea and left the cup on the table. She seemed to be looking for the best words to use. I bet she feels like she needs to come up with something soft to tell the sorry, broken kid who she has gotten stuck with tonight.
-"... My little sister, her name is Maya; I don't know if Dustin has told you about her. She used to cut when young. When I first noticed I didn't really understand, so I stayed quiet. But it got bad eventually. She's... better, now... but... I've seen what that does to you. I just... I wasn't sure."
-"... What weren't you sure of?"
-"I wasn't sure... if you were really cutting or not. That time you went to visit, on the day you were away... Inside the bathroom, I found..."
I felt my breath quicken.
-"... Bloody paper towels."
I couldn't really help it, so I just laughed. Damn, even back then I was this careless. I thought that by now, I would have learned how to cover up my own mess. But apparently I haven't fooled anyone.
-"I haven't told Dustin."—she said, looking at me sympathetically.
-"Well, that's good."—I said—"Because I haven't told anyone."
I don't know if I made my point there. This is something that my parents cannot know. This is something that Dustin cannot know. This is something that Nicola cannot know. This is something that Brandon cannot know.
Nobody can know.
-"Connor..."
-"..."
-"I don't know what you're going through, ok? I have no idea. I can't imagine what would make you want to hurt yourself. I can't even start thinking on what would make you do that. You... you are such a wonderful person. I feel like I am privileged to know you, and to form part of your family... your parents are lovely, you have such a wonderful home... and Dustin is everything to me."
I didn't need to feel to know that I was tearing up. I am pathetic.
-"I'm not asking you to trust me"—she said—", not am I asking you to tell me what is going on in your life... I'm also not going to tell a soul."
-"..."
-"But, please, for everyone's sake... I just need you to promise me you will get help."
I looked up to her eyes for the first time in a long time. I remember when Dustin first introduced her to us, to the family. We were gathered for Thanksgiving a couple of years back, in this same house. Sasha was so shy back then. They hadn't moved in together yet, but they seemed genuinely happy with each other. I had always been jealous of what they had. It seemed... real. She had always been so caring, and so down to earth. Dustin would always brag about how she kept him on track with everything.
I saw her eyes, and saw how horrified she was of what I had done.
I couldn't help it but to feel extremely horrible on the inside.
-"I... I promise. Thank you, Shasha... You... you..."
Why am I sobbing again? Why do I just break down like this? Am I asking for more trouble? Am I asking for her to feel sorry for me?
Before I can answer any of my questions, I feel her arms wrap around me.
-"It's alright... you can cry with me, here... nobody has to know..."
I don't know how long I was like that. And I don't know at what moment it was, but Sasha started singing me a Japanese lullaby. I couldn't tell any of the words, I don't know any Japanese, but it soothed me anyhow. I guess I could have stayed like that, forever... For as long as I wanted... sleepy...
It is now next morning. When I woke up, I was at my own bedroom, tucked into my bed. My bandages were gone, and only a couple of marks were left. It was as if last night had never happened.
But the song inside my head told me otherwise.