**Trigger Warning**
~
Owen said I can go back to school on Monday.
Apparently, he wants to wait until my ribs heal a little more. I tried to protest and claim that I was fine, but Owen didn't want to hear any of it. He told me it wasn't up for debate and left me to pout in the guest room like a child that didn't get to eat dessert.
I was actually really pissed at him for that—and I still am. But I had to let it go, otherwise my anger probably would've taken over.
But what I especially hated was that he tried to act like a parent when he did that. He can't just come into my life like this and expect me to respect him.
Also, I went into the bar and told Joseph I quit.
I tried to get Victoria to quit with me, but she refused. I remember the look of desperation and betrayal on her face as I walked out of the bar, and how sad she seemed.
I feel horrible, but at the same time, she had her chance.
She could've walked out with me, but she didn't. And I'm trying incredibly hard not to hate myself for leaving her, especially when I swore I wouldn't.
But I can't take working there anymore. I just can't. Not to mention, I would face serious consequences from Jean if I hadn't quit.
Also, not having spending money is going to suck, but it's not like I have expenses to pay anymore now that Owen's paying for Mason's daycare.
Other than that, these last few days have actually been pretty boring. Owen and Mason are gone during the day; Owen at work and Mason at school.
Luis is the only lifeline I have to connect me to the outside world. I call him every day during his free period to check in with how things are going at school.
Every time I try to ask about Jasper, though, all I get is an audible eye roll.
"It matters to me!" I shriek through the phone as I lay in bed on Friday morning.
"If Jasper really wanted to talk you, he'd text you. He. Is. Not. A. Good. Guy." Luis states dramatically over the phone.
"You don't know him like I do. Your opinion is biased because you already hate him."
My heart flutters at the thought of kissing him again. The way he held me and the way he moved his lips with mine has made me crave him intensely as each passing day goes by.
"Okay. Whatever you say, sweetie," he teases mockingly through the phone.
"What about you and your boyfriend? Jack, was it?" I ask in an attempt to change the subject.
"Oh yeah," Luis comments, although he doesn't sound too eager to talk about his new boo-thing. "Well, he's not technically my boyfriend. We're not, like, exclusive."
"Why not?" I ask, staring up at the white ceiling as I relax on the guest room bed.
"I like him. I just don't know if we're ever going to be exclusive."
"Why? If you really like him, be exclusive."
He sighs, and a shuffling noise stars up on his end of the line.
"I'm gonna go," he says flatly.
"Oh, okay. Bye, I guess."
"Yeah, bye."
The call ends, but the phone lingers over my ear for a few more seconds. He seemed upset when I asked about being exclusive with Jack, which I don't understand at all. If Luis really likes him, I don't see why they shouldn't be exclusive.
Luis is already stressed about Mary and the baby, and he needs something to take his mind off of it all.
I, on the other hand, need to make a journal entry. I reckon that changing foster homes is a big enough life event that deserves to be recorded in my journal.
I sit up in the bed, wincing at the thickness of the bandage around my ribs, and pull my body upwards. With a sigh of exhaustion, I collapse into the desk chair in front of the vanity and grab my journal from the top drawer, pulling out a pen right along with it.
February 17th, 2017 (Friday)
I live with Owen now. I've only been here for a few days, but I already know I hate it. Owen is painfully nice to me, and it almost makes me feel bad for being mean to him. Almost. I mean, he's a grown man. He can get over himself.
I do like that I get to see Mason, though. I get to say good morning to him and see him when he comes home from school. It's probably the only good thing about living here.
But, on the other hand, I got in trouble for smoking weed again. Jean and Owen found it in a blood test when I went to the hospital. Jean says she's going to tell the police and I might get sent to juvie, but I highly doubt that.
She just doesn't have the heart to send me to juvie. The only reason she told the police last time is because she knew they would probably only give me a warning. This time, though, I have a feeling I'd get a little more than a warning.
I was in the hospital because of Allen, who actually tried apologizing to me when I went to go get my things from his house.
And Jasper and I kissed. I miss him, and Monday can't come fast enough.
Yours Truly,
Ramona
~
Sunday night came slowly, the boring days dragging by.
My attitude was hard to balance. Between being unbelievably sweet to Mason and being an unwavering dick to Owen, my mind struggled to find a balance.
My anger never really left me, it just became a part of me.
And not to mention, I miss Luis, Nadia, Reece, and Jasper. Even Xavier.
I miss all of those crazy, annoying sons of bitches.
The one thing I'm not looking forward to, though, is having to tell Nadia I'm quitting the dance team. I had decided to quit last night while I was contemplating my life.
I was laying in bed, unable to fall asleep as usual, and I realized that I really don't enjoy dance anymore. Nadia won't be happy with me, especially because we've got regionals coming up.
"So, I can take you to school tomorrow, Ramona. You don't have to take the city bus anymore," Owen says at dinner on Sunday night.
"No. I'm good," I respond flatly, not bothering to glance in his direction.
I'm busy studying Mason's face. The way he eagerly scoops his food into his mouth says a lot about the way we grew up. I guess not always knowing when your next meal will be can fuck a kid up. I mean, who knew?
"Are you sure?" Owen asks calmly, still looking directly at me.
"Yep."
My mind is unwaveringly angry with this entire situation, so irritated, but I don't feel any of it. It's like my mind is telling me what I should feel but my body is unable to show it.
I feel so trapped, and so suffocated. Being here, stuck with a man that I hate and a boy that I love unconditionally is tearing me apart. It's ripping at my morals, testing me in ways that I never thought I'd be tested.
It's me trying to be calm and collected while my mind is a lit fuse, a pressurized can, a boiling pot that's about to blow it's cover.
My eyes start to dart around the room nervously, my mind unsure of what to feel. I try to look at my brother again, to calm down by studying the one person that always knows how to make me feel better.
But it's no use. I've just been feeling too much for too long.
"Ramona?" Owen says.
"What?!" I snap, jerking my head to look at him.
The room falls silent as Owen and Mason both look at me, taken aback by my sudden anger.
I look down at my untouched food for a moment, trying to breathe steadily.
"Excuse me," I say hurriedly as I stand up and escape from the table as fast as I can.
My emotions bottle up for so long. I wish I could just tell someone that I'm not okay. I'm tired of pretending I'm not painfully numb all the time.
I close the door to the guest room, my feet mindlessly leading me to the ensuite.
My body feels relatively calm, but my mind feels like punching someone in the fucking face.
It feels like ripping something to shreds.
It feels like screaming and crying and thrashing.
But my body remains calm.
I reach for my blade quickly, my skin jumping with excitement as I roll up my sleeve.
It feels as relieving as it does every time.
The blood entices me with each drop.
The wave of relief that follows the pain—the calming sensation of my blood filling the fresh cuts.
But just like every time, it's followed by guilt.
I can't escape it, no matter how many times I cut my skin open. Although my anger has now turned to numbness, my guilt hasn't left me.
My brother and Owen are sitting in the next room, enjoying their lives and having a grand old time, while I'm sitting here falling apart.
I feel so guilty for being so destructive.
I wipe away a stray tear that has fallen, the weight on my chest still prominent as I stand up from the cold ground that my body had sunk onto while I was slicing my wrist open like a chunk of deli meat at the grocery store.
The girl I see in the mirror is different than I remember. Her brown eyes are red and puffy, surrounded by familiar dark circles. Her skin has lost its glow; it's now pale and lifeless.
Through all these years—throughout all this pain—I've lost myself.
The little girl that would've gotten excited over that goddamn window seat is gone. But I guess she's been gone for a while now. She left the minute I first dragged a blade across my skin six years ago.
Those first few scars appeared when my innocence left.
It's already dark outside, so I take that as a sign that it's time for me to try to fall asleep.
Pretending to be asleep will at least get me out of having to talk to anyone for the rest of the night. I clean up my mess and climb into bed, hoping and praying that I'll actually be able to fall asleep for once in my life.
I can hear Owen and Mason talking and laughing as they clean up dinner, although their actual conversation is hard to make out.
The guest room floods with light a few minutes later, and I soon feel Mason's small hand on my back.
"I think she's sleeping," Mason whispers to Owen, who I'm guessing is standing in the doorway.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to hold back a smile as he leans over me to give me a kiss on the cheek.
"Goodnight, Ray. I love you," he whispers in my ear before climbing off the bed.
"Go get ready for bed," I hear Owen say quietly.
I expect the door to close and Owen to walk away with Mason, but instead, he steps further into the room.
"Ramona," he says.
I don't respond. My eyes remain closed, because as far as he's concerned, I'm sleeping.
"I saw that smile. I know you're not sleeping."
"Yes I am," I mutter.
He lets out a light chuckle, which I wasn't expecting. I was expecting him to come in and scold me for snapping at him during dinner or yell at me for being so disrespectful.
But I don't know why I expected that. Owen has never yelled at me, no matter how angry I get with him or how shitty I treat him.
"I just wanted to give you this," he says.
I turn around to face him, propping my aching body up with my elbows.
His arms are extended, and he's holding a glass of water and two white pills.
"Are you gonna drug me or get me high?" I ask with an unamused eyebrow raised.
He smiles at me, shaking his head as if he thought I was joking.
I wasn't.
I'm secretly hoping he's giving me Adderall or Xanax.
"It's Melatonin. It'll help you sleep."
Damn.
"I don't need help sleeping."
"You sure about that?"
"Pretty fucking sure."
"You look like you haven't slept in days," he says. "Just take it, Ramona."
"I said I don't need it," I say through gritted teeth.
He sighs, placing the glass and the medication on the nightstand.
"Fine. But if you decide you want it, it'll be right here."
I know damn well I'm going to swallow those pills the minute he leaves the room, but I won't let him know that.
"Goodnight, Ramona."
He turns to leave the room, closing the door behind him. I listen to his footsteps trail into Mason's room before reaching for the pills, taking them both with one quick swig of water.
And I don't know why I haven't tried to take Melatonin before, because my god, I was out like a fucking light.
~
The next morning, I wake up to the sound of my alarm screaming at me.
I turn it off quickly before rubbing my eyes, realizing that for the first time in years, I'm not painstakingly tired.
In a way, I feel a little more refreshed and energized, which I'm guessing is a product of actually getting nine full hours of uninterrupted sleep.
But I still have to catch the bus, so I have to get ready quickly.I throw some clothes on over the bandage and put my coat on, making sure to also put my earbuds in.
If I'm going to get through the rest of this month, I'm going to need to control my anger. And maybe, just maybe, my music can help me do that.
Owen and Mason are sitting at the kitchen island taking their sweet time when I emerge from the hallway.
"Goodbye Mason," I say as I wrap my arms around him from behind.
"Oh!" he exclaims, dropping his fork onto his plate to hug me back. "Bye, Ray!"
I give him a quick kiss on his forehead and readjust my backpack over my shoulder.
"You're leaving already? Your school doesn't start for, like, another hour," Owen says, looking up from his laptop.
I don't even bother taking an earbud out, because sadly, I can still hear him.
"Yes. I'm leaving."
I spin on my heel and turn towards the door, eager to get out of this house as quickly as possible.
"Do you want something to eat? I can get you something," Owen suggests.
Does this man ever quit?
I sigh and turn back around slowly, my music still pounding in my ears although sadly not loud enough to block him out.
"If I wanted something to eat, I would've gotten it," I spit with a sarcastic smile.
I don't bother looking at their reactions as I turn back around, I know they're both probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
I wish Mason didn't have to be around to witness this.
I hurry out the front door, the cold and bitter morning air reminding me that the real world isn't as kind as Owen.
When the bus pulls up to my school later, the first person I see is Jasper.
I practically run to him when I step off the bus into the cold February air, although I'm trying as hard as I can to not seem too needy.
"Hey, Jasper," I coo sweetly as I appear beside him.
He does a double take when he sees me.
"Mona? Oh my god!"
I'm pulled into a hug in the middle of the parking lot, which gets us a couple of weird looks from people passing by.
"Hi, Jasper," I say between giggles.
"I meant to text you, Mona. I was so worried about you. I just got caught up in baseball conditioning and I was really busy this weekend—"
"Jasper." I interrupt him by putting my hand on his cheek. "I don't care."
HONK
We both jump at the sound of a car horn blaring before realizing that it's honking at us.
I don't blame them—we are, in fact, standing in the middle of the fucking parking lot.
"Let's go inside."
Jasper grabs my hand and laces his fingers through mine, gently pulling me through the crowd of students to the inside of the school.
My ribs, still healing, make me flinch every time Jasper pulls on my arm.
"You were saying?" he asks as we enter a side hallway.
I secretly thank him when he lets go of my hand, my body no longer being pulled forward.
He's standing over me, my back pressed against the wall of lockers.
"I was saying," I tease, biting my lip. "You should kiss me."
"Really?"
"Really."
He smirks before pressing his lips against mine for a few seconds; just long enough to feel fuzzy, but not long enough to gross people out.
It only lasts for a few moments, but it still makes my stomach lurch and my heart swell.
"Helloooo?!"
Jasper pulls away from me to face an unimpressed Nadia and an angry Luis.
"This is my locker, y'know," Nadia says, clearly amused by the situation.
Luis, not so much.
"R—right. Sorry," I stutter as I step aside to let Nadia get to her locker.
"Let's go, Mona," Jasper says, motioning for me to take his hand and follow him.
"Umm... Actually, I'll catch up with you later, okay?"
Jasper's face drops for a moment but he gets over himself quickly, frowning briefly before recovering with a charming smile.
"Oh. Okay, bye, I guess."
I smile back at him while he walks away, biting my lip as my eyes travel to the ground.
Next order of business—break the news about me quitting the dance team. Just rip off the band-aid.
"He's such a—" Luis opens his mouth to start lecturing me about Jasper, but I cut him off immediately.
"I'mquittingthedanceteampleasedon'tbemadatme," I push out in one swift, deep breath.
Nadia stops what she's doing and turns to look at me, Luis doing the same.
"Wait. You're what?!" she growls. "You wanna repeat that for me? Very slowly."
"I'm quitting, Nadia."
"Why?!" Luis whines. "We literally have regionals this weekend!"
"I know, but it doesn't matter. I can't dance anyways."
"You can't?" Nadia asks. "Why?"
I open my mouth to remind them that I'm still recovering from an internally bleeding spleen, but I have to remind myself that I lied to Luis when he came to visit me in the hospital.
I told him I was 'dehydrated' to avoid getting into the details of my injury.
I told Owen and Jean I fell, but I know they're both aware that that's not true.
"Because..." I begin, preparing to play the foster-kid pity card. "I just moved foster homes, guys. I've got a lot of stuff going on. I don't have time to come to practice anymore."
It's not technically a lie, I really did move foster homes.
They look at each other, the pity evident in their eyes.
"Oh..." Luis whispers. "I'm sorry."
I try my best not to cringe at the pity.
"Either way, you both know I'm not a good dancer. I'm only on the varsity team because I'm your friend, Nadia."
She looks up at me helplessly, her mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"That's not true, Ramona..."
I raise an eyebrow. "Yes, Nadia. We all know it's true."
Nadia and Luis exchange nervous glances, knowing damn well I'm right.
"I'm not mad, guys," I say with a smile. "I'm just saying I know I suck. And I'm quitting."
"Fine," Nadia mutters as she closes her locker. "But you're still my bitch."
I throw my arm around her shoulder as the three of us begin to stride down the hallway.
"I'm gonna be honest," I say with a laugh. "You kinda made me sound like a lesbian. But of course I'm still your bitch. You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."
Nadia throws her head back in laughter.
"Glad to hear it, my lesbian lover."
I join her in laughing, although Luis stays straight-faced and unimpressed.
"Damn, who peed in your cheerios, fruitcake?" Nadia asks, shrugging my arm off of her shoulders.
Luis doesn't even bother looking at her.
"They did."
Nadia and I follow his gaze to the end of the hallway, where Reece and Mary are laughing at something on Reece's phone.
"Okay..." I say. "And why does their friendship bother you exactly?"
"How does it not bother you?" Luis says angrily through gritted teeth, "Reece is an innocent little freshman girl who's hanging out with a pregnant sophomore stoner-slut."
"Luis!" Nadia shrieks. "How can you say that about Mary?"
She pulls the both of us to the side of the bustling hallway, stepping in front of Luis and letting her spitfire anger take her over.
"Let's remind ourselves why, exactly, she's pregnant! I believe it would be because of your stupid ass! ¡No tienes derecho a ser tan gilipollas con la chica que quedaste embarazada!"
I can't help but laugh at her angry Spanish scolding, despite not knowing what the hell she's actually saying.
"Vale, vale," Luis says with a nod. "I get it, Nadi."
"Good." She backs away and brushes a stray curl from her face. "Now be nice."
Bleeeeeeeeeep
The bell rings, signaling that we've only got three minutes to get to first period.
"Shit, guys, I gotta go," I say, backing away from them. "Tell Reece I say hi."
Luis rolls his eyes snarkily.
"Will fucking do."
I roll my eyes back at him dramatically, trying my best not to let his unnecessary attitude get the best of me.
"Stop being a bitch," I fire back with a smirk.
He says something back to me, although I'm already too far down the hall to hear him.
I can't help but smile at the conversation that the three of us just had, the conversation somehow serving as a reminder that there are good things in the world, and that maybe, some people care if I'm here or not.
But it's a fleeting moment of gratitude, because by the time I reach the doors of my Algebra class, I'm reminded that people actually thought putting letters into math was a good idea.
So maybe the world is an evil place, after all.