Creds to @Silver_Mystic for the current cover.
// Chapter 4: Climatically Unexplainable Occurrences\\
Saturday night, May 9, 2014
Thank you so much world for busting me. You know, I really wanted that to happen and I'm just so grateful to you. I owe you...
Okay. Seriously. I owe you nothing. Why would you even do that? Finally, something good happened: I got to find out more about that night by visiting Oliver in the jails, but turns out you don't want any good whatsoever in my life.
You just had to go and let my father find out about it. I mean, seriously?! You couldn't have just kept this between me and you? Now, all because of you, I can't visit him again. And I'll never find Hope's murderer.
Is this what you want?? To ruin my life? Because it sure seems you're doing a pretty great job at it. And what about that picture I asked for.. Hmm? Yeah yeah, I saw Oliver and found out all about his side of the story, but I'm still not one step closer to finding Hope's murderer.
Oh, and then Oliver was going to tell me something else, but you just had to go a tell that lady to come in and stop visiting hours, huh? You know, nothing good has happened in my life since that day and the question I ask myself every day is "why me?" Could you at least answer that one question? Why did you kill my sister and leave me with a crying mother who can't even keep her freaking job and a desperate father who doesn't even give a crap?
Why, huh? Or can you not even answer that for me?
Te odio mucho
-
We haven't been to church since that night. And the ironic this is, we were that family who would go to church Sundays and Wednesdays. Twice a week. And now? In the past few months, we haven't went once.
It's quite surprising how things turn out, huh?
At times, I miss it. But days like today, when my parents are pissed at me, well, actually that's every day. But today, when they're so pissed that they won't even talk to me, I just want to get away. Not stuck in a pew with them. So today, I'm finally relieved that we haven't been going to church.
And while I'd never admit it, I'm a bit relieved to have an excuse to leave the house that I'll be confined in for the next month - Yep, my parents grounded me from having a life for the rest of May. My life will be: wake up, go to school, get home, go to bed. This is the life you've been waiting for Hilary Duff! - And that excuse is support group! Whoopeedadoodaday!
I have no idea what to expect. A small part of me is hoping that it'll go the Fault in Our Stars style and I'll meet an Augustus Waters and we'll fall in love and have sex in a little hotel room in Amsterdam. And then the bigger part of me knows it's going to ulimately suck with a bunch of depressed teenagers.
I need surrounded with positivity, not other freaks like me. Can't anyone understand that?
"Leila! Come down here right now!" And cue the negativity that is my father.
"One sec!" I yell back. Rushing to finish my morning routine, I take one last look in my mirror before trudging down the stairs. My father is standing in the doorway with his shoes and coat on. "Yes, father?" I ask in a sickeningly sweet voice.
He reaches up to place his fedora on his brown curls, and then says, "I'll be at work a bit longer today and I won't be home till late. Could you please purchase some groceries while you're out? Your mother still refuses to be seen in public."
Ugh. Not the groceries. I've had to buy them multiple times these past few months, and it takes me forever to find everything. But I need to be good so he'll be more lenient on me... I reluctantly say yes. "Of course I will. If you could just give me some money..."
He reaches into the right pocket of his khaki pants for his wallet, pulls out a twenty, and hesitates a moment before placing it in my outstretched palm. "This is all I have right now. It should cover most of what we need if you buy the cheaper stuff. Mainly bread, cereals, and some lunch meat should be fine. Here's the list of everything." He hands me a crumpled sticky note. "Just buy what you can." And then he turns around without even a goodbye or a thank you and stalks off to his car, zooming away just mere seconds later.
Well, that was lovely.
I stand there staring at the door for a moment... Thinking... But then spin around on my heel and trudge to the kitchen for breakfast. I open the fridge and ... You know that feeling when you open up the fridge and it's jam packed with a bunch of crap that doesn't even appeal to you? Well that's me at this very minute. NOTHING LOOKS GOOD.
Might as well get that grocery shopping done now, huh? The only other option is to starve to death, and now that I think of it, that wouldn't be so bad.
Okay, Leila, go get dressed and let's head over to the grocery store. By the time that's finished, you have just enough time to make it to support group.
I really need to stop talking to myself. It's getting worse every day. Oh my gosh, stop it! Wow, I really can't stop this, can I? This is so sad.
-
I walk into the building where the so-called support group is held. There are a few other teens loitering around and just waiting. But waiting for what? Are they possibly here for the support group as well? It doesn't hurt to check.
I turn towards someone who's leaning against the wall without looking up at his face. "Hey, um, are you part of the support group held here?"
Silence.
I look up and furrow my eyebrows at the sight that meets my eyes. It's Thomas, a guy I've never really talked to from my school, but he looks different. Usually in school he's got these round, nerdy glasses on the bridge of his nose, but they're not there today. And I can't pinpoint exactly what, but something's different with his hair. His clothes as well. Holy crap, he's actually wearing normal clothes.
Okay. Let me step back for a moment and expain the phantom that is Thomas Moores people. You see, everyone makes fun of him at school. Nobody actually says anything to his face so I'm not quite sure whether he knows about it or not. But everybody talks about him behind his back. And it's not because he's famous, extremely hot or anything like that. It's because no one has ever heard Thomas speak one word... Ever. The majority of the time, Thomas is stuffed in the corner so unless you were to look over there, you'd have no idea he was in the room. I personally, never understood what the big fuss was about his 'disability.' So what? He can't talk. I honestly don't give a crap.
I quickly take a step back when Thomas' gaze lifts to meet mine. He pauses in recognition, but then just quickly looks back down to his mobile device.
I hear a door slam and turn around to see where it came from. And the room... It's completely empty. Everyone has left except me and of course Thomas.
Stellar.
Getting stuck in a room with a mute guy and no idea where to go is just the way I wanted to spend my day.
It's already 12:30, so the support group should just be starting. I have but one option. I turn to Thomas and tap him repeatedly on his forearm until he finally looks up. I frantically motion to the empty room and he just grins with his lips pressed together.
I'm waving my hand in front of his face now and he still doesn't make an effort to move. Ugh. Finally I just give up and start walking down a random hallway and opening doors from the left and right. By the time I get all the way down the hallway, I still haven't found the support group, so I go back up to the room I was originally in. Thomas is just leaving the room and so I tiptoe after him. He enters some door on the left and I run to catch up with him.
He slams the door directly in my face. What a gentleman. I enter the room only to be met with half a dozen eyes staring up at me. Everyone is seated on rectangular carpet mats in a circle on the ground. The only one open is directly across from Thomas. Yippee da doo da day. What looks to be the leader of the group, stands up, and walks over to my lonesome self still standing in the doorway. He stretches out his hand, as if for me to shake it, and reluctantly, I do the same.
Then, he speaks, "Hi, I'm Michael, I usually lead this support group. You must be Leila, Dr. Harrison told me you'd be coming today. Please, take a seat." He motions to the empty carpet across from Thomas.
I hastily sit down and try to make myself as small as possible.
Unfortunately Michael speaks of me once again. "Everyone, this is Leila." He places his hand on my shoulder and I immediately shake it off. His eyebrows furrow together. "She will be joining our support group so please be friendly to her and make her feel welcome. Now, introductions. We'll start with you Eleanor. You guys know how it goes."
The girl to my left pipes up in an obnoxious preppy voice. "Hi! I'm Eleanor Martins and I've been bullied so much that I used to self-harm. Sometimes I still do. But, I'm getting better!"
It continues in this way: with everyone stating their name and then why they're depressed. Some of their stories are as shocking as 'both of my parents jumped off a cliff after finding out I had cancer' to 'i want to die because I hate life.'
When it comes around to Thomas, I just expect them to skip him, but surprising, he opens his mouth to speak. Looking pointedly at me, he starts "Ever since I was younger, people have called me a freak, a mute, even though I'm not. Nobody ever talks to me."
Well would you look at that, the mute guy speaks.
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Copyright © 2015 by Ashlyn Taylour