 
Reasons for Recovery

by

Blair Burden

Text copyright © 2010 by Blair Burden

This novel is based on the novella 'Reasons on My Wrist'

All rights reserved. Expert as permitted under the U.S Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the author.

Smashwords Edition

There is no paperback version of this book as of 2011. This book is FREE and if you were charged for this book, it was done illegally.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and are based on characters 18 years or older. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Reasons for Recovery: a novel / Blair Burden

Summary: A teen who suffers from cutting feels as though her life is being controlled by those who are not relevant to her life anymore. She goes through a love triangle, deaths, and saving a life to finally realize her purpose.

My website: here

### blairburden@gmail.com

### Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

### Prologue

Life is so beautiful when you are looking in.

Those who wear smiles are the only ones that are living life.

So I thought.

Those who wear smiles are hiding barriers because they know that there is a sun.

A new sun, the next day, telling them you may start over.

Now I smile.

Chapter 1

### August 1

"I'm leaving!" I slammed open the door for the millionth time and ran toward my car. I could hear Mama groaning and her slippers sliding across the kitchen floor after me. With rickety hands, I turned my radio up as loud as it could go and began to cry.

"Where are you going to go?" Mama shouted from the dirty kitchen window.

"Mandy's house," I sobbed.

We both grew quiet and Mama came outside, dragging her feet in the lawn. She tightened her robe and said, "Come inside. Just come inside!"

I ignored Mama and pulled out a picture of Mandy and I from my wallet. She was beautiful, with dark brown eyes. Her golden curly hair that went in all directions and the tiny gap in her teeth was like perfection in my eyes.

I felt Mama's cold hand on my arm. "Cassie, let's go inside and we can talk about this."

I rubbed my swollen eye and unlocked my door. "I don't want to hear it Mama."

"I won't talk about it. I promise," she smiled and pulled me out the car. She held my hand and walked me inside the house.

Stubborn like always, I stood in the doorway with my body tensed. Cracked wine bottles were everywhere, hair was throughout the hall, and water spilled on the wooden tiles. Just because of two words—

"The baby can sleep in the bed with you because you know there is no way I can afford a crib with my waitress job. And you're gonna have to breastfeed—"

"Mama, just shut up! You said you weren't going to talk about it."

"I said I wasn't going to talk about Mandy. We haven't even discussed our plans for the baby."

"Mama, you said—"

With her lips quivering, she walked over to me and held me tight. My tears came like a shower and I began to choke on my saliva. She held me tighter and tighter, until I could not breathe anymore. In shock, I pushed her body away from mine.

"What are you doing?" I snapped.

"I'm not doing anything."

"You were trying to hurt me...no...you were trying to hurt the baby."

"I know what is best," she said. "Mama always knows best."

I rolled my eyes and before she could stop me, I ran out the front door for the millionth and one time. I threw my bag in the backseat, turned up my radio, and sped down the street.

_Mother knows best? Really? She doesn't know anything. Look how I turned out_ , I thought. As I continued to cry, I drove off to the place I despised the most—my job at the bowling center. Despised, because no one liked me there, but even more was that I lived in a small town in Idaho. And since it was a small town, everyone knew everyone. And everyone knew me.

I was not the smart kid, the cool kid, or not even the pretty kid. No one said, "Oh, your Valeria's beautiful daughter." Instead, it was more like "Oh, you're the girl that was in the hospital." Not until now, it never bothered me. I had Mandy, but she is obviously not here anymore. Police found her body earlier this week –decapitated in a dumpster, far in the woods. She was a teen statistic, which the media leeched off. It sickened me to think about it, but even worse, it sickened me because I was the one to blame.

As I parked, I hid down in my seat as I spotted the second thing I despised most. However, I forgot, everyone knew me. You could spot my one-hundred dollar wreck a mile away.

"Cassidy! Cassie!"

"Mark, I really don't want to talk to you," I snapped as I got out the car.

"What did Valeria say?" he said as he grabbed my hand. "I'm not in trouble am I?"

I snatched my hand from his and pushed him back, "I said I don't want to talk about this!"

"If my mom finds out about the baby or if anyone does I can go to jail. Please don't let me go to jail—"

"I didn't tell her about you. I told her I was pregnant and you can guess what happened."

"What happened?" he said.

"Look at my eye, Mark," I said.

"Did she punch you?"

"Even worse she tried to squeeze me to death," I sighed, "she is a psycho."

Mark sighed and nervously cleaned his glasses. "Well, Cassie I'm sorry. I need to get back to work. Boss is angry that you're late. You better hurry inside."

I rolled my eyes as I watched him go back inside. He always felt anxious when he felt like someone was watching him walk, so he would let his tall slender frame wobble like noodles. He was already gawky looking, with his big curly hair and pale skin, and walking like that just made him seem more peculiar.

So, should I tell him or should you?

I gasped and looked back at my car. "Mandy?"

I saw your dad. He looks younger. He is mad at you though. You let everyone get away with things.

"Mandy, leave me alone!" I began to walk faster toward the front entrance.

I thought we were best friends. However, you let me just die there. You are not a good friend. You should kill yourself.

"STOP IT!"

"Cassidy White, are you okay?" said my boss, Jeffery. "I didn't expect you to be back at work so soon."

"I'm fine," I muttered as my eyes began to tear up. "Mark said you were mad at me because I'm late."

"No, I don't think you should be here—"

"Jeff, I'm fine. I need to get out of that house. What do you need me to do?"

"Um, well Stacy left early, so you can take her shift and go get orders from anyone down there bowling. Put your work uniform on and get going."

I swallowed and went to the staff room in the back. As usual, no one was back there. I rather wished someone was back there—just so I could feel sane for one minute. I began to hyperventilate as I thought about Mandy. She was the last person I wanted to think about—Mandy.

_You look great_ _,_ Mandy said _._ _You're not fat yet. Trust me; no one will know you're pregnant with Mark's baby. No one will tease you. Hints, I'm being sarcastic. Everyone will call you a fat slut._

"Mandy, just leave me alone," I whispered. "Just please leave me alone, okay?" I stiffened my body and headed to the staff room exit. I paused as I listened—

"She is talking to herself," I overheard Mark say. "She keeps talking to Mandy."

"I know," Jeff said. "I don't think she should be here—pregnant and all crazy like that."

"She must be going insane. Her best friend is dead and everyone is blaming her."

"Yeah, I would talk to myself too—"

"You guys stop it," I snapped as I walked into the room with them. "I'm fine."

"Cassie, you should just go home."

"Today is our most busy night, I will stay here— _pregnant and all crazy_ ," I snapped and continued walking out to the bowling area.

I held my breath as I spotted the group of teens that made my life hell—the Rat Pack. Hate is a strong word, but I truly hated them. Leather jackets, long dark hair, skinny jeans, and biker boots. I did not consider them the cool Rat Pack like from the sixties. They were the complete opposite—annoying was an understatement.

However, skanky girls treated them like royalty. As if, they invented coolness. Just looking at them made me feel like I had an STD (which I didn't).

"Do you guys want to order any—"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Mandy's shadow," Kyle, the most annoying and tallest one said. "Wait, if you're here, then where is Mandy?"

"Dude, Mandy is dead," Sam, the second most annoying one said. "Let's not bring Mandy into this."

I rolled my eyes and thought about punching Kyle in his face and knocking out his stupid brown eye contacts. Then, I would grab his sandy brown hair and slam his head into the floor. That would not be all. I would save the rest for Sam who was the same height as me and probably weighed ninety pounds—

A paper ball bounced off my nose and I turned blue. "Who threw that?"

Kyle pointed at Jordan who probably looked the most decent out of all of them. He reminded me of the cute 90s actors. I probably wouldn't harm him because he never bothered me much. He just always stared at me—crazier than everyone else did.

"Did you want anything to order or NOT?" I snapped.

"No!" Sam said.

"I don't want anything," Jordan said.

"No, I don't want anything from you," Kyle said. "You might spit in my food."

"Ooh, I'm way ahead of you," I smirked and walked over to the next booth. I ran my hands through my hair tensely as I waited for the next group of people to recognize me—Cassie the crazy girl.

"Hi!" said a young girl. "You're Cassie, right?"

_See, everyone knows who you are because of me_ , Mandy said. _You should thank me._

"Just shut up!" I said.

"Excuse me?" said who seemed to be the mother of the girl.

"Oh, I'm sorry...I wasn't talking to you."

"Then, who were you talking to? My daughter, if so I will have to write you up to your boss."

"No, I wasn't talking to her either."

"Then, who were you talking to?"

"Marla, just leave her alone," said a man who was sitting next to her, who I assumed was her boyfriend or son—much too young and handsome to be her husband.

"Yeah, mom you're so embarrassing. I'm going to go to school with these people in this room in a few months. You can't keep embarrassing me like this."

"Karen, just be quiet," she said.

"Do you guys want something or not?" I snapped.

"No, not from you," Marla said.

"Join the club," I muttered under my breath and walked away.

You know everyone just thinks you are crazy. Why don't you just do it already? Just kill yourself. You will be helping Mama, me, and everyone else—

"I can't do this. I quit," I said to Jeff and handed him the menu.

"But Cassie—"

"I can't handle it anymore," I cried. "Do you know how hard it is for me? Everyone thinks I killed my best friend and I just keep hearing her talk to me and yell at me. Now I'm pregnant. I'm only going to be a senior in high school and I'm pregnant."

"But Cas—"

"I have to go." I walked out the bowling center in tears.

My stomach was aching so much from all the crying I did daily. I was crying since I was in ninth grade. Ever since my father died from cancer, I had been crying. Then, when I thought I didn't have enough tears, more came like a river when Mandy passed away.

I sat in my car with the radio turned on full blast. I dug around my full handbag and searched for my shiny best friend. He was so beautiful in my palms—clean and glass like. The cold silver was like perfection as it touched my warm skin. I knew I hit the right spot when I began to feel faint and my heart began to race. I shut my eyes and drifted back to the day when everything felt normal. But, yet everything was so wrong...

Mandy had just blown me off for her boyfriend who was twenty-six. She met him at a frat party, where she and he obviously did not belong.

" _He is only twenty-two,"_ she always said.

" _Really,"_ I had said. _"He looks about thirty."_

" _You're just a jealous bitch."_

However, anyone in their right mind could see he was going on thirty, and not the good kind of thirty. His skin had a nasty dirty stained color to it and his hair was turning grayer every day. Everyone had suspicions of him. Including her family, so she lied. She claimed that I introduced them and she dated him out of pity. Of course, I covered for her—she was my best friend. I didn't think it was a big deal, well not until I started seeing less and less of her. She also started turning mean, like real mean. She never called me a loser, fat, or ugly until she began dating him. She would tell me to kill myself because no one cared for me and she taught me how to self-harm and do drugs to end my life. It sucked because that was the only way I remembered her—as the awful best friend who did me wrong.

After a memorial for my father, I called Mandy. She would not answer so I assumed she was mad at me like usual. However, the night went on and her family called me and said she did not come home. I shrugged it off and said, "I really don't care where she is." It did not sound bad to me but later those words would haunt me.

Police found her body this week—everyone blamed me. They blamed me because I "introduced" her to that guy and apparently I knew about the murder. However, I knew as much as everyone else. And all I got is everyone yelling at me and voices in my head telling me I was unworthy. I just wanted to remember Mandy as if she did not exist. I didn't want to remember all our late night phone calls, our slumber parties, our window shopping, and every laugh we shared. I did not want to remember her because when I thought of her, I thought of evil _._

Chapter 2

### August 2

I awoke on my bed, which really was not a bed at all, but a mattress on the floor. I listened to Mama as she sipped her coffee in the other room. _How did I get home?_ I thought.

Dressed in her work uniform, Mama stood in my doorway. "What were you thinking?"

"What do you mean," I said.

"You're cutting yourself again. I thought you were over that faze. Mandy would always catch you and she would be the one to help—"

"Can we not talk about her?"

"You can't act like she didn't exist."

"I can and I will. You do the same with daddy."

"I don't want to talk about him."

"Exactly. So let's not bring her name up, ever."

"So, you quit your job."

"How did you know that?"

"Why? We needed that extra cash."

"I don't know."

Mama walked out the room and I heard her open the front door to leave for work. As I stood up, I noticed a spot of blood. "Mama!" I shouted and ran to the door. "Mama!" I was too late as she sped off down the street.

I went back into my room and unwrapped my arm that was blood free. Then, I pulled off my pants and blood slid down my thighs. I began to breathe heavy as I ran into the bathroom.

I dialed Mark's number on my cell phone but as expected, he did not answer. He never answered the phone when I tried to contact him. I tried Mama's number but I forgot she could not afford her month's bill. I threw my phone down onto the floor and stripped down. I noticed a bruise on my stomach—a fresh bruise. I touched it and the pain was like pulling off a fresh scab. The first thought that came to mind was Mama. Mama would be the only woman atrocious enough to do such a thing to her daughter. I mean, if she could do it to her husband, she did not care much about me.

It was not a rumor; it was a fact that she was cold-hearted. Mama killed my father. I know she planned it because she couldn't afford him anymore. He was diagnosed with severe lung cancer when I was in ninth grade. As my grades slipped, his condition deteriorated as well. As he deteriorated, Mama became more demented. So, to help herself out, she slipped a little of her "magic" into his water and within ten minutes daddy died right here in our living room. Detectives were not suspicious because my father only had months to live. She got away with murder and she sold her soul.

_I told you she was evil. You need to get away from her. You need to do it soon_ , daddy said.

"But I can't," I cried. "I can't get away from her."

You have to, baby girl.

I began to get weaker as more blood began to flow out. I crawled over to my bed and wrapped myself in my blankets—not caring if I would wake up in the morning or not.

### ***

I tried to open my eyes as I felt a tugging at my sheets. I felt my head snap back and with all my force, I opened my eyes wide.

"What are you doing?" Mama shouted. "Why are you laying here like this?"

With the little energy I had, I grabbed Mama's wrist and pushed her off me. "Get away from me!"

Mama jumped on my chest with her one-hundred and fifty pounds and began to pick at my eyelids. "You think you can leave me?"

"Leave me alone!" I pushed her back in the chest, causing her to collapse onto the hardwood tiles. "You're a sick demented woman."

Mama ran toward me and gently stationed her hands around my neck. Then, with all her strength, she tightened them until I saw stars. Her eyes met mine and all I could see was a bad soul wanting help.

"I'm sorry," she cried and unloosened her hands from my neck. "It's just you make me so mad!"

Trying to get my breath back, I reached for my phone to call 911. With her tennis shoes, she kicked it away and pushed me back onto the bed.

"I love you, Cassie." She held me down as she wrapped me in the blankets and she rocked me as if I were a child.

Chapter 3

### August 8

Mama had her hands on the steering wheel, waiting for me to buckle in. "You didn't tell them anything about me...about us, did you?"

"No, Mama," I whispered as I strapped myself in.

"It's just baby fights we get into. I'm just so angry and I have no one to take the anger out on. I just feel like I'm losing control of you. You're going to be a senior, then who knows. I just didn't want you to ruin your life with a baby. I know Mandy is gone but I will help you."

"Mama, I really don't care right now," I muttered.

With a gentle smile, Mama started the car engine and drove off from the hospital where I spent about six days recuperating after losing the baby. I know I should have told social services about what and how it happened but who knew what they would do to me. I did not have family, so I would be a foster child—an old foster child.

It was not the first time Mama and I got into a fight. We did not have typical mother-daughter fights. We had full on street brawls and skin would shed in our fights—it was repulsive.

"Did you tell whoever the baby's father that we lost it?" Mama said in a content tone.

"It doesn't really matter."

"Cassie, stop being so damn moody."

"I'm moody?"

"Yes!"

"Well, I learned it from you. I have nothing to be happy about. Name one thing I should be happy about."

"That you're alive."

"I'd rather not be."

"You're always just so anal about everything."

Every since I could remember I was anal—about life, living, breathing— _everything_. For seventeen years of my life, I had no real friends. I did not know why I rubbed people the wrong way. I did not look like a freak; I did not have eccentric piercings or wild tattoos. I looked just as great as or even better than the "cool" kids did at my school. And notice I'm being sarcastic when I say "cool."

Mama said she loved my green eyes because they were so random. When I was born, she knew my green eyes would seduce any man. That was odd for her to think that way about me when I was born—but she knew it. My hair color was odd too; I did not know if it was brown, black, or red. It had its days of bad hair—but it was manageable. Mama hated my hair because I never had a haircut before. She did not understand that my hair was like a shield for me. It went down to my mid-waist and did not have split ends. It was something I controlled. Something I loved—something that obeyed me.

I had my mom's pink full lips, which I hated because it looked as if I always had lipstick on with tons of collagen injections. I had people come up to me and ask who my plastic surgeon was—unusual, but funny at times.

My skin color was a lot duller than it should have naturally been. I avoided sun because I avoided life. I spent seventy-five percent of my life in my room and the other percent at school—and apparently, I loved every minute of it.

"I just wish we got along better. You know, ever since my diagnosis," Mama said, snapping me out my daydream.

"Mama, let's—"

"I know, _let's not talk about it_ —like always."

Mama parked the car outside the house and stared at me with her wide eyes. As she leaned in to kiss me on the cheek, I shoved her away and got out the car before she could speak.

"Don't do this to me," I snapped. "We will never be the same."

_Make her apologize to me. Make her tell the truth then leave her. You have to leave her_ , daddy said. _Just leave her now. Please, Cassie or she will hurt you. Just leave. Please leave! Come with me, Cassie. We can be together. Mama does not need you. She does not love you like I do._

"Stop it!" I screamed.

_Typical, to run away from everything_ _,_ Mandy said. _You're such a loser. If you were my real best friend, you would not have lied to my parents about my boyfriend. And I would still be alive. So, you killed me! You killed me!_

"Go AWAY!" I cried. "Just leave!"

You let Mama poison me. And you didn't get me justice. How could you, Cassie? I thought you loved me! Let me rest in peace by her telling me the truth!

"Stop! Stop it!" I screamed.

Mama came running after me as I collapsed to the lawn with my hands over my ears. Tears blurred my vision, as she pulled me into her chest.

"What is wrong, Cassie?" Mama said. "Baby, speak to me!"

"Make them stop. Make them stop talking to me!" I cried. "Please, make them stop!"

"Make who stop?"

"Mandy and daddy."

"Oh, Cassie," she sobbed. "Come on, let's go inside. I love you, Cassie. You're all I have."

Mama pulled me inside our trashy home. Wondering what her motives were, I followed her into the bathroom where she dug around for a brush.

With my eyes still on her, I blew my nose, disgusted by the green snot. I flushed it in the toilet and Mama nodded for me to sit on the floor.

"Like old times, I want to brush your hair," she said.

"Okay," I muttered as I leaned my head onto her lap.

Mama learned a coping technique six years ago from an infomercial, which involved taking deep breaths while brushing hair. I did not understand why she would always ask to brush my hair when she was upset, not until I was a little older. I tried the same technique on myself and on a dog I once had—however, it didn't work for me.

"I think we should get you help." Mama brushed my hair more rough than usual as she sang to me. "All we have is each other."

I pulled back on my hair as she tugged harder. "Ouch, you're hurting my scalp."

She ignored me, "And these voices, how long have they been coming," she whispered as she put the brush down and began to stroke my hair.

"A while now. Well, Mandy's just started."

"And what are they saying?"

"Evil things."

"Evil?"

"Yes, Mama...evil."

"Like what."

"How I should leave you and kill myself."

Mama pulled me in closer and hugged me tight. "Should I get you help? This is serious."

I chuckled, "Like we can afford help. I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine. You've been through a lot this past year. Maybe you shouldn't go back to school in a few weeks. You can do home studies with me."

"No, I want to go to school."

"But why?"

"Do you want me to be honest?"

"Yes, I do."

"I would like to get as far away from you as I can."

"But, I don't understand," she gasped.

"It's not that I don't love you, but you're making me worse."

"Go put your shoes back on," Mama said as she walked out the bathroom. "NOW!"

"Why?" I said uneasily.

"We need to go school shopping."

I obeyed her; afraid she would snap at me. I took longer than usual trying to find my old black boots, thinking of what if this was THE night—the night where she would end it all and I would be headline news. I always had a vision of Mama snapping one day on me, I assumed I watched The Shining too many times.

I rushed out my room as I heard Mama get into her car. She had a comforting expression as she unlocked the passenger side. She did not have those new fancy cars with the automatic car lock—she leaned over and unlocked it with her hand.

With my eyes on my legs, that hadn't been shaven in a few weeks, I fastened my seat belt. Mama stayed quiet as she drove off toward the town's only mall. The tension built as the seconds went on. I bet she was wondering what was on my mind, because all I could think about was her motives.

With a smile, she pulled up next to the curb and nodded for me to get out.

"You can't park here," I said. "This is illegal parking."

"Calm down, grandma," she said as she dug around her bra. "I'm not parking here."

"You're not coming in with me?"

"No, here take this money and spend as much as you need," she whispered. "It's not like you want to be seen with me anyway."

I grabbed the roll of cash and stared at her in disbelief. "Where did you get this cash from?"

"Don't worry about it. Just take it like any other teenager would. I love you, Cassie."

I looked at Mama as she waited for my response back, but I slammed open the door. "Bye Mama."

She sighed, "I love you Cassie."

"Bye Mama," I said again and walked toward the mall, ignoring her. As I headed into the main entrance, I bumped into the back of a girl's head.

"Sorry," I said.

"Ouch," the girl said and turned to face me. "Oh, you're Cassie."

"Um, yeah..."

"I'm Karen," she smiled. "We met at the bowling center a few days ago. I'm sorry about my mother; she is a pain sometime."

"How'd you know my name?"

"You had a name tag. I go there every weekend and like every other person you don't remember me."

"I remember you," I said and continued to walk. "I just have a lot going on."

"So, you go to Simon High?" she said as she walked next to me.

"Yes, I'm going to be a senior."

"How cool! I'm going to be in ninth grade."

"Eh, I hate that year."

"Why? Was it hard?"

"No...it wasn't hard, it was just personal stuff."

"Like what?"

"Nothing Carmen—"

"My name is Karen."

"Oh. Well, I'll let you go have fun...I'm just school shopping."

"Ooh, what happened to your arm? Did you fall?" she asked with all innocence.

"No."

"What happened then?"

"I cut myself."

"Ooh was it with those sharp belts that you get from—"

"No I intentionally did it," I muttered.

"But, why would you do that."

"I had a friend who taught me to do it and—"

"Who, Mandy Perez?"

"How do you know Mandy?" I gasped.

"My mom works with her mom. It sucks she died."

"Um, you're mom's a nurse?"

"Pretty much."

"That's why she looked familiar."

"What happened to your baby? I thought you were pregnant."

"Okay, I don't know who you are, but you're freaking me out. How do you know so much about me?"

"You're freaking Cassie White. Everyone knows about you and your mother's night job...if you know what I mean," she winked. "And your dad was a professor. Sorry about him and..."

"How do you know about my mom," I snapped.

"Was it a secret?"

"So, everyone knows about what she has?"

"Um...yeah?"

"You know about the STD?"

"Um...no...are we talking about the same thing?" she giggled. "I won't tell...I promise."

"Eh, I have to go." I shook my head in confusion and walked in the opposite direction of Karen.

No wonder she said no one noticed her because she was the size of a twelve year old. Although, she was a pretty teen—but, nothing too mesmerizing. She looked sort of mixed race with her strawberry-blondish short curly hair and heart-shaped face. Her parents did not look mix so I didn't even want to ask about her ethnicity.

"Wait...here is my phone number if you need me," Karen said.

I stared at her with a blank expression, thinking why she would want to be friends with me. Well, who said she wanted to be my friend anyway. "Okay, I guess I'll call you if I need you," I said.

"Or if you just want to talk."

"Talk about what?"

"Like your day or something."

"Why would you want to hear about my day?"

"Hmm, that's what girlfriends do," she laughed. "Not the ones that date, but the friend ones."
Chapter 4

### August 9

I tried squeezing my hips into a size two when I knew I really was a size five. Mama knocked on the bathroom door for the fifth time as I tried to ignore her.

"Are you okay in there? Did you find all the outfits for school that you needed?" she yelled through the door as if she were speaking through five thick walls.

"Yes, Mama," I screamed.

"Why do you have the door locked?"

I slammed open the door, catching her toe on the edge. "For privacy. Do you mind?"

"Yes, I mind. I don't think you should be locking my doors," she said.

"I paid last month's rent, so this house is just as much mine."

"I don't think so. It doesn't work that way," she snapped and snatched me up.

I tried holding my body back as she pulled me toward the living room. "Mama, I'm not starting this with you. Leave me alone!"

"Cassidy, stop it." With her firm right hand, she shoved me to the floor and began to kick me for no apparent reason.

"Why are you doing this?" I cried as I tried to push her away.

"Because I love you," she snapped.

As she began to kick harder, I grabbed her left foot and pushed her back onto her behind. That probably did not hurt her much, since her butt was humungous. She faked as if she were in pain and kicked the air.

"I will call the police on you for child abuse!" I said. "Don't think I won't do it!"

She began to laugh as she dusted off her blouse. "Oh, Cassie you're not a child anymore. This is why I'm doing this to you—to set boundaries."

"Mama you're crazy!" I screamed as I ran back into my room. I slammed it shut and locked it while listening to Mama hum her favorite tune.

Something was wrong with that woman. Things had gotten worse with Mama the more time went on. After daddy's death, everything just went downhill and she became so psychotic. If she was not beating or yelling at me, she was trying her best to what it seemed like—kill me.

"Cassie, open this door!" Mama shouted. "I told you about locking these doors!"

_I told you Cassie_ , daddy said. _You've got to leave her. You've got to get away from her_.

"Daddy, just leave me alone!" I cried.

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Mama said as she banged on the door. "Stop talking to yourself!"

"No Mama. I'm not."

"Yes you are! Don't lie to me Cassidy Anne White!"

I bit my lip as I listened to Mama walk away from my door. Without a second thought, I went over to my window and locked it shut. Knowing Mama, she would try to squeeze her wide frame into it and attack me again.

_It's a shame you know_ , Mandy said. _To have to hide from your own mother_ **.**

"If I don't talk back to the voices they won't talk back to me," I mumbled to myself. "Just ignore them."

As I tried to block the chattering out my head, I went to my usual seat—the toilet and unwrapped my shiny best friend. My eyes narrowed as I flickered off old stained blood from the last time, except I couldn't even remember the last time I had used this blade.

I remembered when Mandy introduced me to the blade. She found it in the wheel of her bike. She blamed me for putting it in her bike because for some reason her boyfriend planted the idea in her head that I wanted her bike. I mean, it was a cool bike but I would never sabotage her like that—she was my best friend.

" _You did this to my bike,"_ Mandy had shouted over me. She was about three inches taller than I was and she always wore heels so she looked like she could be my mother. I just remembered staring into her evil brown eyes and wanting her to stop yelling at me. _"You're an evil bitch!"_ she yelled again. _"I missed the final exam! Greg said you were evil. He said you would do this to me because you are jealous of everything I do. You're just my shadow."_

Then, I remembered trying to hold her hand, to make her turn back to the old Mandy. The old Mandy, when we would hold hands when we would fight or when one of us were about to cry. However, she would not grab my hand. Instead, she snatched the blade out her bike's wheel and slashed my wrist with it. I did not cry; I just stood there in shock with my mouth wide open. Without saying anything, she grabbed her scarf from around her neck and tied it tightly around my wrist so the blood wouldn't seek through.

" _You deserved that, Cassie,"_ she snapped, swung her wavy golden hair in my face, and walked away.

I sighed coming back to reality as I realized I had already dug into my forearm too deep. I searched under my sink for my favorite black towel that hid the blood, but it was gone. So, I ran to my bedroom and grabbed a thick scarf that was on my dresser and I tied it tight around my arm—just like Mandy taught me to.

I dived down onto my bed and shut my eyes as I felt the pain in my forearm build in pleasure. I tried to think about something other than my life, I thought about what it would be like to be famous—but then I just thought about my dad again.

Before he was diagnosed with cancer, we were all planning to move to California. He wanted to become a celebrity lawyer and he already was in because he had a best friend who would offer him a job.

" _We'd struggle for the first year but it will be all worth it,"_ he had said. _"You can enroll into a private school and then I will have enough by then for college."_

" _I'm barely going into high school. I'm not thinking about college. And I can't just leave Mandy here," I had said._

" _Miranda can stay with us during breaks. Time away from her will be good."_

" _I don't want to move."_

I rather wished I would have gone with daddy's gut feeling and moved with him. However, we were too late and who knew he was already dying. My dad was the worst when it came to going to the doctor. I blame Mama, because she never wanted him to go, but if he would have gone that time when I went to get a flu shot, doctors may have discovered that he was already ill based on his nasty cough. In addition, if we would have moved, I could have stayed away from Mandy and her lies. However, everything happened for a reason—or so the saying.

I opened my eyes from my nap and began to sniff like a puppy—I knew the smell right away. I jumped up and ran out my room. Mama was lying across the living room floor, smiling as if she just won the lottery. Next, I immediately ran into the kitchen and turned the gas off.

"Mama, are you crazy?" I coughed, ran, and opened the front door for air. I pulled out my cell phone and tried to dial 911 with my rickety hands.

"Cassie, is everything okay?" said our town's cop, Michael, who ironically happened to be across the street.

"No, Mama had the gas on," I cried. "Can you call the ambulance and get her out of there?"

"Okay, you stay here. They'll be on their way!" he said.

_See, I wasn't the only one who wants you dead_ , Mandy said.
Chapter 5

### August 10

Dr. Summings, a doctor who I knew nothing about, but like everyone else, he knew everything about me, was taking my blood pressure for the fifth time. "Something must be wrong. I'm going to get my nurse to take your blood pressure manually. It's way too high."

"Can you blame me? I have that monster for a mother," I whispered. "What was she thinking?"

"We have her under observation. Valeria would never try to do something like that to you or her."

"You've got to be kidding me," I laughed. "The woman is crazy!"

"Marla, can you come take Cassidy's vital signs again?" Dr. Summings shouted over the loud commotion outside the room.

Who I remembered as Karen's mother, came into the room. "Of course, honey."

I stiffened up as she pulled out her stethoscope. "You're Karen's mom, right?"

"Um, yes. How'd you know that?"

"We met at the bowling center."

"Ooh, I remember you," she snapped, then turned to the door where Michael entered. "You're going to have to wait, I'm taking her vitals."

"This is urgent. We need to discuss some things with Cassidy about what exactly happened. You should know of all people that we are very limited on police in this town and we need to get going."

"This will only take a few minutes," Marla snapped.

"Miss," he snapped back. "This is urgent."

I smiled and Marla walked out the room, pouting.

Michael took a deep breath and pulled out his notepad. "Are you okay?"

"I couldn't be any better," I said in a sarcastic tone. "It's a beautiful day!"

Of course, Michael knew I was being sarcastic because it wasn't the first time he had to investigate on my family. He was one of the nicer police in town—maybe because he was one of the younger ones and was afraid of people disliking him. I always thought he was too handsome to be a police. He looked more like someone who should have modeled for Abercrombie and Fitch with his short brown haircut, tanned skin, and sparkling green eyes.

"Cassidy, tell me the truth," he said, snapping me out my daydream.

"You know the truth—"

"You had to know about her—"

"About who?" I snapped and yanked the blood pressure cuff from around my arm. "Are we talking about Mama?"

"About Miranda..." he whispered.

"Ooh, are we still on this? You came in here to talk about Mandy when I almost died?" I cried. "You police still think I'm a suspect in her death. We all know it was Greg. Why don't you investigate him?"

"Greg is dead. His body was found hanging in his house late last night. It was all over the local news. Don't you watch TV?"

I swallowed hard. "He is dead?"

"Yes," he sighed. "So, he took everything to the grave with him."

"Then, why are you still on me about it? I want to forget about Mandy."

"Why would you want to forget about her?"

"I want to forget her because all I remember is how ugly she turned after she was with Greg. He made her a disgusting human being. She was so mean to me."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I don't want to ask you these questions but my boss just wants to know. He said he won't sleep right until Miranda gets justice. And he thinks you know something about her."

"I know as much as you," I mumbled.

_No, you don't_ , Mandy said. _Tell him about the phone calls. Tell him how you ignored me when you knew I was in trouble!_

"Shut up!" I screamed and put my hands over my ears.

"Excuse me," Michael said. "Cassidy, are you okay?"

"No! I'm not okay. No one cares though. Even when Mandy is dead, she gets all the attention. I could have died but yet we are discussing Mandy. And that's all I hear in my head—Mandy. Her voice is always bugging me!"

"So you hear voices?" he said in a slow tone as if he were afraid of me.

"Not only hers, but I hear my dad's too. And I can't even sleep sometime because they keep talking. I'm blocking it out now but I still hear them..."

"I think you should talk to Dr. Summings about this," he said. "I really don't know what to say."

"Just write it on your notepad, that I'm a nut because I hear voices."

Michael ignored me and walked out the room. I'm sure he wanted to be as far away from me as possible. Within two minutes, Dr. Summings came into the room next with a sadden face.

"I'm sure Michael told you about everything I said."

"I see you've been cutting again," Dr. Summings said, ignoring me. "I'm going to have to give you a prescription."

"I hear Mandy's voice all the time and my dad's a lot too. But, Mandy's is worse. She yells at me and my dad—"

"ENOUGH!" Dr. Summings shouted. "I'm so sick of seeing you and your mother in and out of my hospital. This is my job but do you not understand that I have people who really need help that are being put behind you guys because you guys want attention."

"I don't want attention. Well, I need attention now but no one is listening. I'm telling you I hear voices and you just ignore me like I'm lying."

"That info you provide is subjective. And if it were true, Cassidy you would have to go through lists of examinations that I'm not sure your mother can afford to see if you may have a mental disorder."

"Did Mama tell you this?" I said. "Did she tell you how she kicked me, and beats on me? Huh?"

"She told me you're upset and you're depressed. That I know for a fact. I know it's hard that you lost your father and your best friend, but you have to stop harming yourself."

I began to cry, and stood up. "I've always been upset and depressed, because of her—Mama."

"Cassidy, I'm not going to argue with you. This is the tenth time I've seen you in two months. I think you may be developing a form of—"

"Don't even say it. I'm not here for attention. I'm here because I need help."

"Here," he handed me a form. "You're going to take this prescription daily and I'm going to forward you and Valeria to a family counselor."

"What's the point? She's just going to say it's too _damn_ expensive," I snapped and left out the room, throwing down his form.

### ***

The dinner table was quiet as Mama handed me a bowl of soup. Of course, she did not cook the soup. It was the cheap soup you can get from the dollar store. Mama believed it was cheaper to eat that every night, rather than cook. It made me wonder why I was a size five if that was all we ate.

Mama began to shake and hyperventilate, as I did not look her in the eyes. "Are you going to speak to me at all?" she said.

"I'm not intending to," I said.

"Listen Cassie, I'm sorry about everything..."

_No, she is not!_ _She wants you dead just like me. I want you dead._ _Cassie, do not listen to Mandy_.

"I don't know how the gas was on. I would never do anything like that to us," she whispered. "I love you." _She does not love you; no one loves you, Cassie._

"Mama, I know you're lying because for a fact you don't even use the stove!"

"Exactly, then why would I turn it on?"

"I mean, you don't ever use it to cook, so you couldn't happen to leave it on by accident. I never touch the stove, so I couldn't leave it on. It was you!"

Ha, you guys are such losers!

I began to breathe heavy as the voices got louder. Mandy's voice was the loudest and strongest. It seemed like she was right there in my ear, shouting until she couldn't shout anymore. And daddy's voice always stayed the same, faint but very hearable.

"Mama, I can't talk anymore. I'm sleepy."

"But you didn't even eat—"

"Just let me sleep."

"Okay..."

I walked into my room and sat on my mattress, tracing my finger over the cut that was already healing into an ugly scar. It would just be another scar that had a bad memory written all over it. It was right beneath the tens of cuts where I nearly ended it all. It was there because of guilt...

About a week ago, the police had came to my house and told me Mandy's body was found. At first, I thought they were going to tell me Mama was killed. She didn't come home that night, which made me worry, so when ten policemen came to my door and took off their hats—I had the worse feeling.

They broke the news to me slowly, first hinting that Mandy was okay—as if they found her alive. Then, they began to speak of her in past tense and then I realized she did not make it.

"Mandy is dead," one of the cops finally said after minutes of sidetracking. "We need you to come down to the mortuary. Her family needs you there—this is too hard for them."

My heart had dropped to my feet because all I could remember was her voice on the other end of the phone, telling me to pick her up because she had a bad gut feeling.

" _Pick me up now! Greg is going totally psycho on me. He bit me just a second ago. Now, he is in the bathroom doing god knows what—"_

" _I'm busy,"_ I had snapped.

" _But, Cassie...I really need you."_

" _Well, be a lot nicer next time,"_ I said and hung up the phone. And that would be the last time I would hear her angel-like voice.

That phone call had police all over my nuts because Mandy had called me from her cell phone just minutes before she was decapitated. Of course, I looked guilty because I couldn't tell the police what out last phone call was about. I didn't want to tell them the truth, how I ignored her.

I shiver just thinking about how she was murdered. She didn't leave this world at peace. Word is, she died a gruesome painful murder—a murder that may have been avoided.

Chapter 6

### August 12

If you were a loser like me or had nothing better to do, my high school would let students come in two days before the first day to stock up their lockers and meet their up and coming teachers. I had the same bottom locker since ninth grade and since I hated changing, I never wanted a new one.

"Cassidy White, you know the seniors can have any locker they choose, right?" Dr. Smith, the school principal said.

I looked back at him and my eyes instantly went down to his huge shoes. I always thought he would buy big shoes and fill them with paper. However, one day I saw his bare feet at the bowling center. His shoes always caught my attention and I was not a foot freak.

"Cassidy White?" he shouted.

"Yes?" I said.

"You know you can get a new lock—"

"I like this locker," I said. "I don't want to change it."

As Dr. Smith walked away, all I could see was flying bright hair skipping toward me. I did not know if I should move out the way or just stand and stare at them.

"Hi, Cassie!" Karen said, who had bright blue streaks in her hair. "What's up!"

"Um, your Kasey right?" I said.

"Don't be silly, it's Karen," she said. "I told you she jokes a lot," she whispered to a tiny girl who was standing next to her.

"Is this your sister?" I said, trying to not act interested.

"I'm Betsy," she said and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. "I'm going to be in ninth grade."

"Really," I smirked as I stared at her frame, which was like the size of a five year old. Well, not literally but she was small for her age. "Well...it was nice to meet you."

"We were here for dance try outs," Karen said. "You should join."

"Yeah, that would be cool. Like you could give us all the inside scoop of the seniors," Betsy said.

"No—"

"Hi, Cassie," Daniel, the head of the yearbook and anything else you can think of, said. "Well, we know Mandy passed away this past summer and it's going to be a hard time for everyone here. We are going to do a memorial for her and we thought since she is your best friend, you—"

"Can praise her and act like she was the best thing in the world?" I snapped. "Because she's not. She isn't as great as she seems. She was evil!"

Daniel pushed his glasses back with his index finger and said, "Whoa, I'm sorry...I just thought it was a great idea."

I sighed and changed my thought. "It is a good idea. She would really love it."

Daniel ran his hands through his short black hair and smiled, "Okay then, we will rehearse tomorrow if you don't mind. We like to have the ceremony on the first day back to school."

"Of course. It's not like I have anything better to do than think about Mandy," I said.

"Okay, we'll see you tomorrow," he said and ran down the hall to catch up with his friends.

Karen cleared her throat and waited for me to speak.

"What?" I said as I arranged the notebooks in my locker.

"You seem bitter," Betsy said.

"Well, you guys will soon learn that I was also known as 'Mandy's shadow.' And even when she is dead, somehow I still am and I'm sure she loves it." _I do love it!_

"Well, you guys were best friends—"

I cut Karen off, "Yeah she is someone I want to forget about."

"Why?"

"Long story; I have to go," I muttered. "See you guys Monday."

"Bye!" they both said.

I sat in my car thinking about how much senior year would suck. Without Mandy, I didn't really have friends. She was always the person to get invited everywhere and I was always her plus one. It is not that I wanted friends either, it was just my life was so lonely especially since I didn't have anyone to talk to about everything I was going through.

Why don't you tell everyone the truth? About how you ignore my calls!

"Maybe I will," I said. "And maybe I'll tell them about how evil you are."

Just go ahead and cut yourself. You know you will! Just kill yourself!

I dug into my handbag and pulled out you know what. I rolled up my windows and took a deep breath as I held the razor close to my skin.

Don't do it, honey. Please don't. You're breaking my heart.

"Daddy?" I jumped and the razor slit deep into my skin. "First, you say you want me with you, now you're saying to stop it? You're confusing me!" I cried as I searched my back seat for a towel. As more blood dripped out, I grabbed the sleeve of my favorite purple jacket, and wrapped it tight around my arm.

A sigh of relief.

Chapter 7

### August 14

I ran through the halls of the math classes, searching for my English class. It was a shame that I didn't know my school, since I spent all my life at school. I guess that is what summer, a pregnancy, and a death does to you.

"Cassie! Cassie!" Rebecca aka Mrs. Johnson pushed me back.

"Becca what are you doing?" I snapped as I dropped my makeup to the floor.

"You're not going to say hi or even mention my hideous spray tan?" she teased.

Okay, it was beyond weird. My only friend was a teacher—yes, a teacher. However, it did not count; she was my ninth grade teacher. She was still young and understood me better than myself—it scared me most of the time.

"I'm already late," I said as I picked up my lipstick.

"Don't blame me; blame yourself for doing your makeup in the restroom," she said and yanked my schedule out my hand. "Mr. Conner?"

"Yeah, I can't find the class," I moaned.

"Yeah, you're in the wrong building. He's in building A."

"Thanks," I said as I turned around to leave—

"Wait, you're not going to ask me about my trip to France?" she said as she held my shoulder.

"How was France?" I said quickly.

"I won't answer you in that tone," she smirked.

"I'm sorry, I'm having a bad day, and I have to do this speech for Mandy—"

"Mandy? You said the M word. I thought we weren't ever talking about her ever?" she whispered.

"I know, but this is the last time we will ever here the M word. Well, not until I'm done with her," I grinned.

"Ooh no, what are you up to?"

"You'll see, but I have to go." I said and ran off to class.

As I ran through building C to get to building A, Daniel jumped out in front of me holding up a framed picture of Mandy. "Where were you yesterday?"

"I made my speech. No worries," I said as I tried to walk around him.

"Well, I don't know if we want you to speak now since we don't know what you'll say. All we know is that you might go up there and call Mandy out her name. We can't have that. The media will be here and her parents will be there too."

"Wow, you guys are making this a big deal," I said, second-guessing my speech.

"It is a big deal. A student at Simon High was murdered this summer. This whole story has got the town shaking in their rain boots."

"You don't have to worry about me. Remember, Mandy and I were best friends. I will do nothing but praise her for accepting me into her life."

"Why do I have the feeling you are being one-hundred percent sarcastic?"

I smiled and ran off to building A. When I finally found Mr. Conner's class, I held my breath as I knew everyone would stare at me when I would enter—

"You're late!" Mr. Conner said. "Oh, you're Cassie—Mandy's friend."

I rolled my eyes and searched for an empty chair. "Yes, I'm Cassidy White."

"Have a seat. I heard you're giving a speech today after lunch?" he asked.

"Yeah, I am." I grunted and sat at the area where no one else was and that was near the Rat Pack. I squeezed into a seat between Jordan and Sam.

"Hi, Mandy's shadow," Sam giggled. "Haven't seen you at the bowling center lately. Did you get fired?"

"Just leave her alone," Jordan said. "This must be a hard time for her. To come back to school and have no friends."

I frowned as they talked about me as if I weren't there. _Even dead, I run your life. It must suck to be you!_

I held my breath and sat back in my seat as Mr. Conner gave a speech on behavior and what he expected out of us. I don't remember what he talked about; I couldn't help but notice how weird he looked. Just imagine the geekiest/creepiest person you ever seen and times that by two.

I pulled out my speech that I was going to say and read it to myself: _Mandy was my best friend. We used to have so much fun together. I hope she is having fun wherever she is_...I crumbled the paper into a ball and tossed it into my handbag. I felt so fake reading that to myself, so I could only imagine how I would feel reading that to everyone else. The only thing I thought about when I thought about Mandy was how evil she turned. That was all I could think about.

The bell rang and I headed to building B for art class. I knew right away, where that class was because I had taken it before and failed. Yes, I was the only person who failed art class just because I didn't know how to make a shaded apple. If my dad were alive then, they would have been sued.

"Cassie? You're in this class?" Karen said as she ran over to me. "No way!"

"Unfortunately," I groaned.

"This day just keeps getting better and better," she said as she arm locked me and pulled me into class. "I love art," she said as she sat across from me at the long table.

"I had this class last year and I failed it."

"How on earth do you fail art class?"

"Don't ask." I dug in my handbag, flattened out my speech, and handed it to Karen. "Read that."

"Ooh is this a love note?" she beamed. "I love—"

"No, it's my speech that I'm doing today for Mandy."

Our art teacher began to give the exact same speech Mr. Conner gave and I think I can speak for everyone when I said I don't remember what she said. I just kept my eyes on Karen who was taking too long to read a two-paragraph speech.

"What do you think?" I whispered so the teacher couldn't hear me.

"Eh," Karen said.

"What do you mean _eh_?"

While rolling her eyes, she tossed the paper back to me. "I don't believe it."

"It's truth."

"It's lies. I'm a self-proclaimed body language expert and I know you dug this out your butt."

"What does this have to do with body language?"

"You're all tense right now and I can tell by your handwriting that you took your time on this speech. If you meant it, it would be all crappy looking."

"How do you know I didn't rewrite it?"

"Cassie, seriously I know everything and that speech is pure crap."

"What do you want me to write? About how she slit my wrist open because of a bike or how she taught me how to use my finger as a weight solution?"

Karen's eyes grew large, "Whoa, tell me more about this Mandy."

"She isn't how everyone claims she is. Well, not after she met her boyfriend anyway. She turned all mean on me after she began dating him."

"Is that why you're so bitter when everyone mentions her name. I thought you were just grieving or something, but it's more, huh?"

"Well, the police think I have something to do with her death just because she called me minutes before it happened."

"Why would they think that?"

I paused and a small smiled formed. "Thanks..."

Karen's eyes narrowed. "Thanks for what?"

"For not asking if I did have something to do with the murder."

"I know you're better than that," she muttered. "And I don't judge people."

***

I felt uneasy sitting in my chemistry class as time got closer to Mandy's memorial. Not only that, but I soon learned I had several classes with the Rat Pack. Well, three out of my five classes—but it totally sucked.

Everyone got quiet as the announcement went on throughout the school. "Everyone participating in Miranda Perez's memorial may be dismissed from class and report to the school stadium immediately. Everyone else may go to lunch 10 minutes early and meet back at the stadium for the ceremony."

I took a deep breath and my teacher nodded at me to leave. I began biting at my pink nails as I walked toward the stadium. I felt like I was selling my soul or that something creepy was going to happen to me—no words could explain the feeling.

I paused in front of the entrance as I saw Mandy's mother, Rosa, crying to Dr. Smith. I had promised I would visit Rosa every weekend, but when police began to investigate me, she said it was best if I avoided her.

"Oh, Cassidy!" Rosa cried and ran over to me. "I can only imagine how you feel. You and her used to spend every day with each other."

"I'm okay. I had enough of her—"

"What?" she gasped.

"That didn't sound right...I mean I still have her with me," I said. _Trust me, she does._

"Okay, are you speaking today?" Rosa said.

"Yes. I'm giving a speech."

"May I view what you're going to say?"

"Well, I didn't write my speech down...well I did, but I trashed it. I'm just going to let my heart speak for me," I smiled.

"That doesn't sound like a good idea," Rosa snapped. "For someone in your condition."

"What condition am I in?"

"Well, I heard about you and Valeria," she said. "You aren't really at your peaking mental status."

"I don't want to talk about this now. I have to get inside now to practice," I said and walked into the stadium.

I sat on a chair next to where the local news were setting up their cameras. It was just the typical media feeding off a dead teen and glamorizing it.

"Hey," hipster Daniel sat next to me. "Do you have what you're going to say together?"

"Um, well yeah," I murmured. "I do."

"Well, Dr. Smith was speaking and he said it would be amazing if you shed a few tears for the cameras," he whispered. "You know, so we can get a bigger sum."

"Wait, you guys are getting paid to do this?"

"Yeah, the media is willing to pay nine thousand for this broadcast."

"That's pathetic."

"I know, but it's kind of a big deal—"

"And we are using her death to build up on cash?"

"Tell that to her parents. They are gonna make ten thousand for doing 20/20."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, I'll make sure we get the extra sum."

"Really? You'll shed tears?" he beamed.

"I won't say I'll shed tears, but others will," I said. "It will be perfect."

"Ooh, that sounds great. Dr. Smith will love you if you did that!" Daniel pulled me close to him and gave me a huge hug. "I knew you had good in you."

I didn't eat the special lunch that was provided for everyone part of the memorial because I knew I wouldn't be able to keep it down. I just kept on thinking about what I would say about Mandy and how this could make me look guilty.

I must have blanked out for an hour because when I came back to reality the stadium was full of students and Dr. Smith was getting ready to speak. With his big shoes, Dr. Smith walked to the middle of the stage, holding the same framed picture that Daniel had earlier. Everyone grew silent and all I could hear was Rosa crying.

Dr. Smith cleared his throat and struggled to stand the picture next to him. While tying his scarf around his neck, Daniel ran on stage to help Dr. Smith stand the frame up. It took a good minute, and the crowd began to get uneasy.

I stared at the picture of Mandy. I remembered that day like yesterday, when she took that picture. She was angry because her hair was greasy and she blamed Mama because she curled it wrong. But, we would laugh and Mama would just say she wasn't a trained hairstylist. It was funny how that one picture reminded me of all that—it reminded me of the good times.

"Cassidy Ann White," Dr. Smith paused, acting as if he were choked up, "will be giving the first speech tonight. She and Miranda were best friends. They were so close people called Cassidy, Mandy's shadow—"

With that last comment that came out his mouth, my pulse was on fire. I never felt so much anger build up in my veins, as if I were the Hulk. I felt like taking Dr. Smith's humongous feet and slapping his hideous goofy face with them. The more he spoke I began to abhor him.

All I could hear was the laughing and the comments, saying how they agreed that I was her shadow. Everything I thought I would say disappeared out my mind.

I walked to the stage and snatched the microphone from Dr. Smith. "Me being calling Mandy's shadow has caused so much anger. I am pissed off, because even when the bitch is dead, I'm still in her shadow. I don't care if I don't have friends and I don't care if Mandy was the only reason why people knew me. The only thing I care about is how Mandy changed. How she went from being an amiable friend to being the one person who wants me dead. And I say that in present tense because Mandy still haunts me with her rude side comments and her bickering that I didn't tell the police about the phone call.

Everyone wants to know about the phone call! Well, Mandy called me that night before she died. She told me to pick her up now because her boyfriend was going crazy and he bit her or something crazy like that. And I said no. I said I was busy. The only reason I said that was because she always controlled me. She expected me to be like a little puppy and pick her up as if I were her slave. Because of that, he killed her and if you want to blame me, then blame me. I think of it this way, he was gonna kill her anyway—"

"That's ENOUGH!" Dr. Smith snatched the microphone out my hand as everyone began to whisper on how he allowed me up there. "Cassie, you may go home now!"

"But you called me—"

"NOW!"

As I walked off the stage, everyone stared at me as if I was the most disgusting thing on their shoe. _Ha, everyone is just going to think you are crazier now. I do not know why you wasted your time. Just go back home and cut yourself like usual._

I ambled into the restroom and searched my messy handbag for my razor. I tore open my makeup bag with my teeth, breathing heavy as I couldn't find my shiny best friend. I was relieved when I finally found it—without thinking, I began to slash away—

"Cassie?" Karen came out the restroom stall. "What are you doing?"

"Just leave me alone," I cried.

Karen snatched the razor out my hand, allowing my blood to drip all over her fingers. "You cut yourself? You're one of those people?"

"And you seem so surprised!" I chided and wrapped my wrist with a towel. "I told you."

"Does your mother know you do this?" she asked with empathy in her tone.

"Everyone knows! Karen, that is the thing, no one cares. No one cares unless Mandy has something to do with it. However, she has plenty to do with why I cut—"

"You can stay with me tonight and we can talk. I think the last place you need to be is at home with your mom."

I sucked in my runny nose, swallowing all the mucous. "I guess that is okay."

As I walked out the restroom, Dr. Smith pulled me by my shoulder into his office. I did not know if I should fight him off or scratch him and run away—so I followed him.

"Cassidy White your speech today was so impertinent that I have no comment right now. How could you say that horrible speech in front of all those people? I really wanted this school year to be a good one, but now I'm not sure if I should allow you to stay."

"I don't even want to talk about this. I embarrassed myself—"

"You embarrassed not only yourself, but everyone involved."

"You just want your money!"

"Hell yeah we want the money."

I rolled my eyes, "Can I go home?"

"Go home and think about what happened today."

Without another word, I left out his office to my car. I turned my radio down as I watched Jordan and Kyle bounce a ball on their shoes. They continued to do it for ten minutes and I soon begin to get bored watching them.

I dug into my handbag searching for something to get my mind off Mandy. Unfortunately, I didn't have anything entertaining. So, I turned my radio back to full blast. However, my mind went back to Mandy. I tried to rewind the memorial in my head. I was not the type of person who would not try to understand both point of views. I knew my brusque attitude would get me in mega trouble one day—it was just my luck that the media recorded it.

I found a bottle of pills with a missing label under my seat. I figured it had to be Mama's medication since she had every drug a pharmacologist could own. As I hesitated, I poured the remaining pills into my palms, counting them—ten.

I grabbed my water, which had been in my car for the last two weeks. I stuffed the large pills into my mouth, swallowing them. As I realized what I had done, I tried to make myself throw up the pills, scaring myself out my complacency.

"Oh my god," I said. "What did I do?"

I started the engine to my car and hurried to get home. When I arrived to my street, I grabbed my bag, ran into the house, and hid in my bed. Mama was at work, so I thought about how she would find me.

She would find me pale and clammy. First, she would probably think I were sleep and not bother me, so it wouldn't be until the next day where she would find my dead lifeless body.

As I continued to think about Mama, everything became blurry and I felt faint. Within a minute, everything went bright and I closed my eyes.

I felt like a zombie as I heard my phone ringing in my ear. By accident, I pushed the answer button with my head. I leaned my head closer to it, as it felt like my brain was about to explode.

"Hello?" it was Karen. "I thought you were coming over?"

"Karen?" I said as I tried to read the time on the clock—only a few hours had went by.

"Yes!"

"I took too many pills this time. My stomach is burning."

"What do you mean you took too many pills?" she screamed. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

"No! I'm not okay. My mom is at work, can you do something?" I cried.

"Why don't you call 911?" she said.

"No, I will be in trouble if I do."

"I'll do it for you. Where do you live?"

"No, Karen, don't do it," I said. "Just send someone over to me. Contact my Mama. Anyone but 911."

"I'll do it...where do you live?"

"Karen, they'll probably arrest me or something."

"Why would they arrest you, Cassie?" she said as I got quieter. "Cassie? Cassie are you still on?"

"Just say Cassidy White and they'll know."

Within in ten minutes, the sound of the rhythmical ambulance awoke me. I could hear someone banging on the front-door; they must have been an idiot because the front-door was unlocked. In fear, I hid under my blankets. I didn't really understand my own motives. _Did I want to be saved or not?_

I listened as I heard Mama screaming as she ran throughout the rooms, searching for me. "Cassidy! Cassie!" Mama slammed opened my bedroom door. "She's in here!"

With all her energy, Mama snatched me off my mattress and held me in her arms. Then, I felt as though I was being pulled in different directions as multiple people began to tug on me. I always wondered why they stripped me nude. They always did; luckily I had clean underwear on.

"Baby, it will be okay..."

Mama's voiced faded out and all I could see was a bright beam of light. I felt as though my body was floating, but I was conscious enough to know I was being lifted into the ambulance.

I heard the last thing to go was your hearing before you die, and I began to get fearful as the sound of Mama's voice would come and go—soon it faded—and I couldn't hear anything.

I thought I was dead.

The bright row of familiar lights shined through my eyelids as doctors rushed me into the local emergency room, which was about five minutes away from home. Just within one second, the scream of Mama made me jump and I was sort of amazed that I was back. Then, the room filled with tons of sounds and I was wishing I didn't hear anything.

_How selfish of me_ , as I listened to the screams of a woman in labor. _How selfish of me_ , as I heard a man screaming because of a bullet to his chest. I should have been last, but I was first.

As the doctor pressed down on my stomach, I could feel the softness of the gel pills sliding its way up my throat. I tried to open my eyes, and all I could see was Mama crying. Her beautiful eyes, turned downward in agony.

"Don't leave me, Cassie!" she sobbed. "Don't leave me!"

I let out a breath of air as Dr. Summings injected my arms with an IV over the old bruises. He put his cold fingers over the scars and the pain came like a rush.

The door shut on Mama but I could still hear her crying from outside the room.

"I think we did it," Dr. Summings sighed. "We saved her again."

### Chapter 8

August 16

Mama was gawking at me with her intense doll eyes. Everyone said her eyes told a story and that was a fact. The wrinkles around her eyes told more of a story to me—mainly because my name was the cause.

She rubbed her trembling hands on her pink waitress uniform and began to sob again. "You can't keep doing this to me," she said as she bit her pink full lips. "I can't keep this going! I do not see why you are so depressed. I work a nine to five job— _technically_ seven to ten job but you don't care—"

"Mama, just shut up!" I shouted as loud as I could. "Can you just leave?" I rubbed my throat in pain and Mama began to cry again.

"I'm sorry, Cassie," she whimpered. "Baby, you're all I have—" Her cell phone rang and she pushed ignore.

I rolled my eyes. "You paid your cell phone bill," I said.

"I got some money from someone."

"From who, Mama? Who would give you money?"

"I have to go; I'm not going to argue with you again."

"You could have fooled me."

"I almost lost you this time. I can't even look at you. When you were born—"

"I know, I know—"

"No, listen to me! When you were born, you were the happiest baby ever. That made me the happiest mommy ever too. As a child you were so joyful as well. I would think of how blessed I was to have a child like you."

"Things have happened since then, Mama," I snapped. "Lots of things!"

"But..."

"Yes, I can still be happy, but it would be pretend. Would you like me to fake a smile? How would you like it if I strolled around town with the rudest smile?"

"Anything but this," she muttered. "However, I would rather know how you feel."

"Exactly," I cried. "So, stop saying how I used to be. This is how I am now!"

"Gosh, I don't know what to do with you."

I turned my body in the opposite direction, staring at the cars on the highway. "Are you really going to go to work while your daughter is dying in the hospital?"

"Work means money, plus you're not dying." She grabbed her jacket and handbag and walked over to my bedside. "You stay put."

I looked out the dirty window, trying to avoid her eye contact. "I always do," I said.

Mama kissed my cheek and walked out the room. It was quiet again without her doglike whimpers. As I thought about Mama, my mind began to think about the other things that were controlling my life. _You've failed once again. Failure should be your middle name._ _Don't listen to her Cassie. We all know Mandy is just bitter!_

I grabbed the sheets and covered my ears to block out the voices. "Why are you guys here? Go somewhere else. Bother someone else—just not me!" I tried to hold my composure that I would be in the hospital for a while, hearing their voices, and thinking about the failure I had become. If it were up to the hospital, they would hold me longer, if the digits on the bill grew bigger. They didn't care about me or the situation I was in.

I'm sure that little fit you threw at my memorial is all over YouTube. You're an embarrassment. I cannot believe we were once best friends.

"That's it!" I ripped out the needles and the tape off my arm and got out of the hospital bed. I was not going to stay in that hospital bed all week—I had important things to do—I couldn't miss the entire first week of school.

I pulled my handheld mirror up to my face and traced my fingers along the blemishes. My lips looked bigger than usual. I hated that. It always looked as if I had lipstick on with tons of collagen injections. I had people come up to me and ask who my plastic surgeon was—unusual, but funny at times. Then I looked at my skin—ten times duller than what it should have been.

I put on my ripped shorts and my plaid shirt. I tore the tape off my Converse tennis shoes that had them connected and put them on without socks because I had no idea where they were.

I checked both directions outside the room and no one was around. I hurried off the floor for the "mentally disturbed" people and went onto the elevator.

"Cassie?" said a nurse as he chased me onto the elevator.

"What?" I snapped as I pushed floor 1.

"Leaving early again?"

I smiled. "Like always!"

"I seriously don't feel like hearing your mother moan that this hospital let you check out again."

_It's not like she cares anyway._ "I'm not checking out," I said sarcastically. "I'm leaving."

"Why?" he chuckled as he rolled his eyes. "You get to miss school! Who wouldn't want that?"

"I actually like attending school—it is the only place I can be in peace. Besides the skanky girls and the annoying boy, I like it there better than here."

"Why?" he asked as the elevator doors opened.

"Because I don't have to deal with jerks like you."

Did I mention I had a very bitter sense of humor? I was horrible with being social or being "nice." But, I assume everyone knew that by now. Everything I said came off as an attitude problem— _which it was_.

"I'm glad you're leaving then," he said as he walked in the opposite direction off the elevator. "But you'll be back."

I sighed and I looked at the clock on my cell phone. Within ten minutes the nurses and doctors would realize I left, then they would call Mama, and she would have to come down to the school and try to convince me to go back to the hospital. It was always the same thing.

I rubbed my arms because I began to feel cold. I hated the weather in Simon, Idaho. She was very moody. And I say she because the weather is always PMSing. Maybe she had a Mandy who bugged the hell out of her too—or maybe a disgustingly ill Mama.

I checked my cell phone again and I still did not have any calls or texts. I sighed as I arrived to the front steps of Simon High—the school that I would be eaten alive in. As I walked up the first step to the entrance, I felt someone grab my shoulder.

"Cassidy?"

"Yes?" I said as I turned around to realize it was Mr. Rivers, the school counselor.

"What are you doing back on school campus?" he gasped.

"You act like I'm banned from school...I'm not banned, right?"

"Well..." He scratched his short-slicked back hair in uneasiness. "Come into my office."

"For what?" I snapped as he pulled me into the empty halls (everyone was already in class). I pulled away from his grip, "I can walk by myself." I followed behind throughout Building A, until we arrived at his office.

"Come in and sit down," he said as he threw his books on his table and turned on his computer.

Mr. Rivers was a typical young adult man who probably would rather be working as a photographer for models in Spain, but yet he worked with hormonal teens in Idaho. I did not like him much because he was always in my business. The only thing I did like about him was that he had a nice pair of aqua colored eyes and nice pearly white teeth—and he was dark and tall.

He sighed, and handed me Mandy's memorial book. "Cassidy, I don't think it's right for you to be here."

"Why not?" I said and handed him back the book, not wanting to look at it.

"Well, did we not forget about what happened at the memorial service?"

"I know that was very inappropriate."

"Not only was it inappropriate but her parents were there. I think that's the last thing they want to hear—how evil their daughter was. I mean, it was no secret," he laughed.

"You believe me when I said M was mean to me?" I beamed.

"M?"

"I don't want to say her name..."

Anxiously, he began to dig through file papers on his disorganized desk. "I don't think that is a part of the grieving stage," he smiled as he found the paper he was looking for. "You're in the anger stage—"

"I'm not in the anger stage, if that is even a stage. I just don't want to talk about her anymore."

His sweet smile dropped and he leaned in closer to me. "Why not?"

I took a deep breath and leaned back. "Because if I say her name, she will just keep talking again—"

"Talking?" he gasped. "Like you hear her voice?"

"Yes! That's what I have been trying to say!"

"Does your physician know about this?"

"Yes, my mother knows too; everyone should know this."

"That's interesting," he said with a huge smile on his face. "And what types of things does she say?"

"Mean things to me." I put my head down in shame. "You probably think I'm crazy."

"No, I don't. I understand, Cassidy. I really do," he smiled and put his hand over mine. "I promise I am not judging you. I completely know what you're talking about."

I removed my hand from his, and sat on it to avoid another awkward moment. "No you don't. It's not just her voice I hear; I also hear my father's voice."

"And what does he say to you?"

"He is more calmer and mellow, but M's is just so loud and rude. I wish she would just leave me alone—I wish both of them would leave me alone."

"Well, forgetting they exist isn't going to make them go away."

"I don't want to remember M like that—"

"Like what?"

"Mean—just mean to me. I cannot remember when she was nice to me. I just hear mean."

"Maybe you and _M_ need to talk—"

"Are you crazy?" I laughed. "I can't believe you're even talking to me about this. We sound insane right now."

"Well, it's not like I have anything better to say. What do you want me to do?"

"Tell me to get a life and leave you alone," I snapped. "That would make me feel better—"

"That would also make me like every other person in your life."

"True, but that's all I know."

"You have a lot going on—"

"And you're barely figuring that out?" I laughed.

Mr. Rivers paused as the bell for third period rang. "We can make this a daily thing—it's not like I have anything better to do besides research the stages of grief," he laughed.

"What do you mean a daily thing?" I said, while rocking in my seat.

"Let's talk to each other. So, instead of you doing makeup at your locker, don't be shy and just come talk to me."

"And talk about what?"

"More about the voices and I don't know... _grief_?"

"Well, I guess so. So, that means I can go to class today?"

"I don't think you should go today, maybe tomorrow."

"No, I can't go back home—not there," I whispered.

"Why not?"

"It's a long story that I'll maybe talk about on one of our daily counseling."

"Fine then, you can go back to class. Just try not to stand out anymore than you do," Mr. Rivers said as he got up to walk me out his office. "Tomorrow then?"

"Okay, tomorrow we will talk," I said and walked out the office and into the halls of my over accumulated high school.

I swallowed hard as I could feel people staring down my throat. The scars on my arm felt like flames burning through my skin. I tried to ignore the looks by humming a song my father used to sing to me. However, I looked even crazier. And in this small town, the simplest thing would have you on the crazy list.

I looked down at my ripped shoes as I sped walked to my locker. I could hear everyone whispering about me, so I blanked out and just listened to the party in my head. _Cassidy, just go home_ — _no! Stay at school so you can feel the suffering that I felt when I was murdered. Cassie, you are so selfish. So selfish_ —

"What are you doing here?" Miss. Thomas smacked my arm, snapping me back to reality. "Girl, you better leave!"

"Rebecca, stop!" I pushed her away as I opened my locker, nearly in tears.

"I'm gonna call, Valeria!" she said as she threatened to dial Mama's number.

"Becca, I swear..." I cried.

"Ooh Cassie," she moaned as she hugged me. "I know this is a hard time for you, but I don't think being here at school is the best thing to do. Everyone is really upset about your whole anger fit."

"It wasn't an anger fit. It was the truth."

Rebecca wiped my tears away. "If you ever need someone to talk to, call me."

"Don't you have class to worry about?" I said, trying to change the subject.

"Before we talk about that, I have bad news," she paused, while twisting my hair, "I'm leaving for about a month with my husband to Brazil today."

"And you're barely telling me now?"

"I was gonna tell you yesterday, but..."

"Just go, the bell is going to ring—"

"Okay, I love you, bye!" The late bell rang and Rebecca went running off in her too tight dress to begin her math class.

I grabbed my books out my locker, crashed down into the floor, and watched everyone run to class. I chuckled as one girl slipped out the restroom as she tried to run across the hall. It was amazing to see all the freshmen and sophomores run to class because they thought they would be in trouble for being late. I never ran though, I just always laughed at everyone. Then I would cry when I got a detention slip.

I shut my eyes as the halls became empty. I was not fooling myself—I was dead tired. I should have stayed in the hospital bed but then again I was anal— _about everything_.

I groaned as the Rat Pack came laughing down the hall. Jordan's laugh was the most defiant because it was sort of creepy—creepy enough to make me interested in what they were laughing about. I shut my eyes again and acted as if I didn't see them.

"Emo," Kyle said.

_If that makes them feel better,_ I thought _._

"EMO!" he shouted louder and kicked my shoe.

"Back off!" I snapped.

They all paused, as it was the first time they heard me speak to them, besides taking their order at the bowling center.

The tallest of the bunch, Kyle, threw a paper ball at my nose and it bounced to the floor. I ignored them as they walked off laughing at their immaturity. We were in twelfth grade and I swear they acted as if they were in middle school.

As they turned the corner, I grabbed my huge handheld mirror from my locker and put my red lipstick on. That was something about me that many found interesting. I loved makeup and fashion. For a depressed loner, I wore some of the brightest makeup and clothing. Mama would always joke that I was born in the wrong decade. She would say, "You belong to the 80s."

I grunted as I spotted Karen turning the corner. I shut my eyes once again as she sat next to me. "Hi, Cassie!" She crossed her legs like me and began to dig around in her handbag for her lipstick. "Are you okay?"

"Shouldn't you be getting an education?" I asked as I opened my eyes to face her.

"Well, aren't you too?" she said as she imitated me.

"I suppose. I like art class," I whispered. "I'll go to art class."

"I like art class...mainly because you have it with me," she sat back against the locker like me and stared across the hall. "I think you're so cool, Cassie."

"Whatever," I said as I fixed my messy hair. _I think I'm going to vomit—someone actually likes you? Ew._

"I heard what happened to you," she paused, "did it hurt?"

"Karen, I don't want to talk about it—"

"I'm sorry I called 911. I was just so scared for you. I didn't want you to die. You're like one of my best friends."

"Best friends?" I laughed. "We've hung out like once. I'm not your best friend. I had a best friend and let's just say I'm glad she's gone."

"Wow, you didn't like Man—"

I put my finger over her mouth, "Shhh, don't say her name."

"You didn't like M much, did you?"

"I loved her, but she hates me."

"Hates?"

"Yeah, long story, Karen," I sighed.

"Well, I liked your speech at the memorial. It shows you have balls to do that—to go up there and say what you feel. I could never do that."

"Well—"

"Ladies?" Dr. Smith came walking down the hall toward us with his huge shoes.

I rolled my eyes and thought of something dim-witted to say to him. "Can I draw your feet?" I asked Dr. Smith as he walked closer to us.

"My feet?" he gasped.

"That's so cool," Karen muttered under her breath.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, you're feet—"

"Okay, that's enough," he said. "The both of you get to class."

I loved making others feel uncomfortable. It taught them to never ask me anything—or better yet, not talk to me. I believe Dr. Smith was afraid of me. I knew for a fact he didn't like me because I knew about his little games he used to pull on Mandy. Dr. Smith was a sick man to say the least. That was one reason he never messed with me—because he knew I knew his secrets.

"You need to get to class, ladies," he said in a firm tone.

"Okay, Dr. Smith," Karen said as she walked away to class. "Bye Cassie, I'll see you in Art class!"

"Bye, Karen," I muttered as she ran off.

"You too, Cassie. Get to class," he said.

"I do not understand why the police thought I was a suspect in M's death. I mean, they should have looked for more sicker people...like you—"

"Cassidy, you need to get to class," he snapped. "I can have you expelled from here and the only school left in this town is on the other side of town and you have to pay nine-hundred dollars a month. I don't think your mother can afford that, now can she? Or maybe she can, but I will have to tell the police about what she does to get the money. We don't want that do we?"

"Touché," I smiled. "You're good."

"Get to class, now."

I sighed and closed my locker. As Dr. Smith went back to his office, I walked slowly toward my math class in dread, hoping no one would stare at me when I would enter. I hated when I would open the door and everyone would look at me as if I were some freak.

I stopped and looked at my phone again. I was surprised Mama was not blowing up my cell yet—she probably did not find out yet that I left. I checked through my empty text message box—nothing.

"Ha!" A paper ball bounced off the back of my head.

I turned around and it was the Rat Pack again. I rolled my eyes and just stared at Phil, who I called the outcast of the bunch. He did not speak much, he just laughed at Kyle's every lame joke. I only saw him in a blue moon because he attended school when he felt like it. "You guys should get a life," I snapped. "And stop bugging me."

"But, it's fun bugging you," Sam laughed. And they all laughed—mainly because they had the brain of a rat.

"You should just go kill yourself again," Kyle added.

"That wasn't funny," I overheard Jordan whisper.

I paused and wanted to attack him so badly. It was as if Mandy had transformed into an extremely annoying teen boy and said the one thing she loved most. I swallowed hard and turned around. "Maybe I will. Mandy would want that," I whispered as I rushed off into the girls' restroom to check my face and clothes.

I listened as Dr. Smith yelled at the Rat Pack to go to class. I turned around to the dance team who were gossiping in the corner of the restroom.

"Betsy?" I said.

"Yeah?" she said in an annoyed tone.

"Shouldn't you be in class?"

"We are talking about very important things here—like how Robby is cheating on his girlfriend—"

"You're gossiping," I smirked. "Typical."

"Just be thankful we aren't gossiping about you," Betsy said.

"Whatever," I mumbled and walked out the bathroom. I walked at a slow pace to my math class. When I entered, like expected everyone looked back at me. When I shut the door, like robots everyone went about his or her business.

My teacher stared at me, but he didn't say anything to me. I don't even think he wrote me up for being late.

I walked over to the only seat available, which was next to, you guessed it—the Rat Pack. I threw my notebook on the table and crashed into my seat. Kyle licked his tongue out at me but Jordan just stared at me. He always stared at me, even crazier than the others did—as if I always had a booger on my face.

"What?" I snapped, waking him from his gaze.

"Whoa you talk," he teased. "You usually speak I don't know—"

"Psychotic language?" Kyle laughed.

I flipped Kyle off and turned back to Jordan. "You don't know me."

"I see you around," Jordan said.

"Really?" I said.

"Are we seriously having a conversation with emo girl?" Sam said. "Just leave her alone before she does what she did to Mandy to you."

I rolled my eyes and opened my notebook to doodle my thoughts like usual. I did not draw very well. I was on the verge of a really good drawer or a really bad drawer. _It's amazing how even dead I control your life. If you were the one dead and I was alive, no one would even remember you. They would just feel sorry for me._

"What happened to your wrist?" Jordan interrupted my thoughts.

I gave him a gnarly look. He knew exactly what happened to me. He was just being a jerk who wanted to tease me about my depression. I put my head down on the desk and thought about Mr. Rivers and how we would have a daily talk.

"So you're just gonna ignore me?" Jordan interrupted again. "I see how it is."

I did not say anything and just kept my head down.

"Mandy used to say you were dangerously shy and that you would have spasms if anyone talked to you," he continued to speak. "She would also say that you were emo and taught her how to cut—"

"What?" I gasped. "She told you that stuff? I did not even know you guys spoke. She would tell me she hated you guys."

Kyle and Sam began to laugh. "Ha, she said that," they both said.

"Then, why was she always talking to us to take her to get a tattoo or buy her a cigarette. She always talked about you, a reason why I couldn't stand her. And it's not because I didn't want to hear about you, but it was like she was obsessed with you," Jordan said.

I beamed. "Really? She would call you guys low life guys who would probably die on their motorcycle before they could pass health class."

"That bitch," Kyle muttered.

"She also said that you were obsessed with her but from what we've seen, it was like the opposite," Jordan said.

A light bulb went off in my head and I began to smile. "Really?" _Don't listen to them, that would never be true. Why would I obsess over you?_

"That's a lie," Kyle said. "Why would she want to obsess over you?"

I paused and looked at Kyle and without a conscious, I punched him in his jaw as hard as I could.

"Ouch!" he screamed. "You punched me!"

"Oh my god—" I gasped.

"Cassidy White? Is that you fighting in my class?" my teacher said from his desk.

My face turned red. "Uh," I said as the class turned toward me. I didn't know what got to me—the fact that Mandy was talking in my head or the fact that everything Kyle said reminded me of the evil her.

"Nope, it was me," Jordan said as he popped his leather jacket's collar. "I punched Kyle in the jaw."

"Go outside, young man," our teacher demanded. "That's very inappropriate to do that."

"But, we were just playing around—"

"Go!"

My jaw dropped as Jordan walked out the classroom. Everyone stared at me, knowing I was the one who hit Kyle. I swear, I did not mean to do it though. Something more powerful had taken over me. I had never felt like that before—now I understand all those exorcism movies.

All I could think—for once in my life, someone stood up for me.

"Bitch," one of the "cool" kids said to me. And I came back to reality.

The bell rang within twenty minutes and I rushed out the door first. I went outside to where I spotted Jordan cleaning off his motorcycle from the water stains that the rain left.

"Why'd you do that?" I said as I approached him.

"Do what?" he gasped as I frightened him.

"Why did you do that in class?"

"Do what in class?"

"Why did you lie for me?"

"I hate school! I just really wanted to leave."

"I hate class too," I paused, "thanks."

"Why'd you do that to him? I know you can't stand us, but why did you punch him," he laughed. "I'm surprise Kyle didn't through a hissy fit over that."

"He just says things that—"

"That makes you mad."

"No, that reminds me of M."

"Mandy?" he said.

"Shhh...don't say her name, please."

"Well, that's good that he says things that remind you of her."

"No, it's not—"

"Oh, I forgot you're grieving."

"No, it's just I don't want to remember her like that."

"Oh, I think that makes sense."

I could hear the other Rat Pack members' shoes getting closer to me. I turned around and Kyle's fat mouth was ready to talk crap.

"Just smack me then!" I snapped. "Get it over with!"

"I'm not going to smack you," Kyle said as he touched my chin. "You should just do us all a favor and get the blade and cut deeper."

I smacked his hand down as he squeezed my chin. "Maybe, I should."

"Yeah, Mandy would like that," he snapped. "I think we will all like that!"

"Sure, why not!" I screamed and walked away in the opposite direction of the school.

"Where are you going?" Jordan said.

"Why would you care..."

I continued walking toward my home, which was close to school. It began to drizzle a bit, but I didn't mind it. I couldn't remember the last time I had showered so the rain counted, _right_?

I couldn't understand why some people were so mean to me—well mean to anyone in general. What did those people think at night when they went to sleep? How did they feel when they woke up in the morning? They couldn't have felt good or accepted because they were wrong.

When I approached my home, the town's familiar cop car was outside my house. Either someone robbed Mama or she murdered someone. With horrible thoughts, I rushed into my house and Mama came running to me.

"Oh, baby!" she wrapped me in her arms. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Now, Valeria, if we have to come back again this month we are gonna have to lock Cassidy up," said Michael. "We can't keep doing this."

"What?" I gasped. "I didn't do anything."

"I got a call that you were on the verge of suicide again," Mama cried.

"Cassidy, we know a very good place for teens like you—"

Mama pushed Michael away, "You cops can leave now. She's fine. Just leave her alone."

He smiled and walked toward the door. "We'll see you ladies later," he said as he walked out with the others. "Hopefully, not soon."

"Mama, I'm fine. You left work for this?" I laughed as I shut the door.

"Why are you smiling?" Mama asked in shock. "I haven't seen you smile in ages."

"Mama, who called you?" I asked. "The hospital?"

"Oh, no the hospital called a few hours ago saying you had left again," she said as she put a cigarette in her mouth. "I tell you, Cassie, one of these days; you'll be the death of me."

"Don't say that Mama." I never wanted to imagine Mama dead—no matter how much we fought—she could never leave me—I wouldn't allow it.

"Then, stop it!" she cried. "I do all this for you and this is how you repay me. Hospital bills after hospital bill."

"Is this what you told dad?" I said.

"Don't ever compare yourself to your father," she snapped. "Ever!"

"Why?"

"Because he couldn't control his cancer!" She slammed her fist on the table and tears flooded her eyes. It was all I would see those days, was Mama crying. I felt guilty but I felt as though she deserved it.

"It's because you poisoned dad—"

Mama threw a liquor bottle toward my head. It barely missed me but the bottle came stumbling to the floor on my feet. "Don't ever talk like that in my house!" she screamed as she stood up.

I had to think fast, because I could feel it coming. I could feel a fight about to start between us again. I grabbed a lamp and swung it over my head. "Mama, I swear if you hit me, I'll beat you silly!"

"Cassidy, if you ever hit me with that lamp, I'll kill you!" she screamed and charged at me like a lion.

Without thinking about the consequences, I slammed the lamp on the side of her face, causing her to bleed instantly. I dropped the lamp to the floor and jumped back in fear, not wanting her blood to touch me.

"Get out!" she shouted. "Just leave now!"

"But, you were going to hit me," I cried.

"Cassidy, just leave!"

I ran to my room and grabbed my black boots and a handful of clothes. "Don't worry, I'll leave! I don't need you!" I grabbed my school bag and stuffed anything that could fit into it. I walked into the living room and stared at her. _Cassie, just keep walking. Honey, just leave her._

Without a word to Mama, I walked outside to my car. My car was the one thing Mama could never take away from me because it belonged to me—I bought my car.

I drove to the only place where I knew people would be during a school day—the bowling center. I parked in the parking lot and grabbed the box full of tissue that sat on my backseat. And like I was watching a sad Lifetime movie, I began to cry crocodile tears. I cried for about twenty minutes until I remembered the light bulb that had went off in my head earlier that day. I dug around in my glove department and pulled out Mandy's diary that I had been trying to open for the last two weeks.

After Mandy's disappearance, I went into her room to find any clues on where she could be. At the time, I didn't know where Greg, her boyfriend, lived so I searched her room for an address. That is where I stumbled upon her diary, which I didn't even know she had. I wouldn't call it stealing, but I doubt she would want her parents to read it so I took it for safe keeping. However, after Jordan said that she always obsessed over me, she must have written it in her journal.

Someone tapping on my tented windows startled me. I rolled my window down and stared at no one there.

"Boo!" Jordan popped up, startling me again. "Hey, Cassie."

"Don't ever do that!" I snapped and was about to roll the window back up.

"Hey, wait—"

"What is it you want?" I snapped as I continued to pick at the diary. "I'm really busy."

"What is that you have?" he said as he leaned into my car for a closer look. "Is that your diary?"

"Nope, it's not mine."

"I assume they don't want you reading it, since it's locked," he said and yanked it from my hands. With a toothpick, Jordan dug around the heart shaped lock. "I open these things all the time."

"You read other people's diary?"

"Maybe," he winked and handed it back to me opened.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said as he ran his hands threw his long black hair. "I was worried about you."

I flipped through the filled pages and looked back up at him. "Why were you worried about me?"

Jordan stuck the used toothpick back into his mouth, which I thought was gross and he said, "You said you were going to kill yourself. I'm just glad you didn't."

"And?"

"I called your mom for you," he said. "Valeria is her name, right?"

"You?" I paused, "called my mom?"

"Like I said, I was worried about you."

"But, how do you know her number?"

"I know people," he smirked. "It's not hard to get people's number in this small town."

"But, why would you care?" I asked. "If I'm dead or alive."

He bit his lip thinking of what to say. "No one should die over Kyle."

"You think I'm depressed because of Kyle?" I laughed. "You don't know anything. I can care less about him."

"But why?"

"Why should I care about someone who doesn't benefit me in life?"

"Not that," he laughed. "Why are you so depressed?"

"Why do you care?" I snapped and began to roll my window up.

"Wait!" he peeked through the little space I left. "Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Then why are you here?" he said as he tried to lean back into my car.

"I just had a rough night with my mother."

"Ooh, was it because of me?"

"No, it's not—"

"Yo, Jordan?" called Sam. "Come on, they're giving away free pizza!"

"You should leave. Your _boyfriend_ is calling you," I smiled.

"Yeah, I guess he is," he said as he beamed. "You know you can come in?"

"I don't want to."

"Why? There is free pizza!"

"Well, not only do I not work there anymore, but my boss is probably mad at me. I don't think I will be going back!"

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah," I said.

"That's why you shouldn't work local..."

"Yeah, it's too late now."

"Well, okay...bye, Cassie," he said as he ran off with his friends.

I rolled my window back up and began to laugh to myself. And for the first time I laughed without effort. I hadn't done that in years. I did not know what had come over me. I felt wanted for once—liked. _He doesn't like you; he is using you to get to me._

"But, your dead," I said, snapping back to my reality.

So, he still wants me. And I swear, if you read my diary, I will not leave you alone.

"Watch me read it," I smiled and opened it up. I scanned through the first pages and read every line that contained my name. Until I got to the page I was so looking for:

_I feel bad being so mean to Cassie. She is my best friend, but Greg says she is trying to go against me and leave me. I won't let it happen. Greg says I need to show who is boss and who wears the pants in our friendship. But, oh my, it hurts when I say those things to her. I hate lying to her, and yelling at her. She is already depressed with her mom and dad, but now I'm adding to it. I don't know what I would do if Cassie really killed herself. I would just lose it and confess it was my fault. But Greg knows best and he knows what Cassie is really up too_ —

I shut Mandy's diary and took a deep breath. "You were brainwashed by Greg. I never wanted to harm or leave you." I stayed silent waiting for Mandy to respond, but I didn't hear anything—nothing. "Mandy, are you there?"

Bitch.

I put my car in drive but some idiot stood behind my car as if he did not see my lights on.

"Move, dumbass!" I shouted through my window.

"Oh, Cassidy?" Mr. Walker, the town's drunk came to my window. "Is your mother home? I've been trying to call her."

"I wouldn't know," I said.

"You live with her, don't you?" he laughed as the smell of hard vodka drowned me.

"Maybe she's at work."

"I went by there."

"Home?"

"I'll go by but..."

"I won't be coming home tonight," I answered his thought. "She kicked me out."

"Thanks!" He laughed and ran off into the bowling center.

I hated that Mama had a fling with the town's drunk. It was not beneath her though. She had secrets from me—technically, they were not— _since I knew_. She tried hard to hide her drinking, smoking, and coke addiction. I knew about all the pregnancies she had last year. I knew how she paid for all my school clothes. I was not an idiot.

I had no idea where I would go. I thought about staying with a friend, except I had no friends. Desperate, I dialed Karen's cell phone.

"Hello?" she answered on the first ring.

"I need help," I said.

"OMG let me call 911 again!"

"Wait, no! I'm not in that kind of trouble. My mom and I got into a fight."

"Are you still at school?" she said.

"Nope, I'm driving right now. Isn't school out now?"

"Yeah, I just got home from dance practice. I can pick you up."

"Like you can drive?" I snapped. "I have my car."

"Okay, then come over," she cheered. "It'll be like a sleepover."

"I'll be over later; I have things to take care of."

I drove to the middle of Simon town, where the middle classed lived, but it was also where Mandy's family lived. I held my breath as I remembered everything about her street. We would spend summers just riding our bikes up and down her block. And in the winter we would spend it on her balcony drinking hot coffee and telling silly ghost stories.

I pulled my beat up car into the Perez's parking area in front of their garage. As I got out the car, Rose came outside with her eyes narrowed.

"What do you want?" Rosa said as she walked to me.

"I want to talk to you about...Mandy..." I sighed; relieved I could say her name without hearing her voice yelling at me.

"What is it you want to talk about? How evil she was and how she hurt you? I don't want to hear it."

"Well, yes, but here," I handed Rosa Mandy's diary. "I can breathe now, knowing that Mandy wasn't a cold-hearted bitch."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I understand why she turned mean toward me."

"And why is that?"

"Because she was brainwashed—"

"Brainwashed?"

"By Greg—"

"Don't even say his name, Cassie."

"And that's how I felt about Mandy. I didn't want to hear her name but now I understand and I don't hear the voices anymore...well to an extent."

"You should get that checked out; it's not healthy to hear voices. That could be a sign of a mental disorder."

"But, I don't hear her anymore because she's at peace now. She wanted me to know why she was so mean to me—"

"Cassie, you're going to have to leave. You're talking like a crazy person," she snapped. "Just leave me alone and get off my property before I have you arrested."

"But Rosa, I thought you wanted—"

"No, I want you to leave me alone because you're a nut."

I held my breath as Rosa walked back into her house. In anger, she threw Mandy's diary into the garbage and slammed her door shut. I could hear her pushing the buttons on her loud house phone, probably calling the police on me.

Chapter 9

### August 17

After hours of crying in my car until midnight, I finally drove to Karen's home. She lived in the richer part of town, where the cheapest house to buy was half a million. She had a big two-story home, a dog, and two loving parents—her life was perfect.

I parked my car behind the double gates that led to her house. I cleaned my face, but my red eyes could not hide the fact that I was crying all night.

"Hi, Cassidy!" Betsy, Karen's best friend waved from the gate. "Let me tell Karen to open the gate."

"Uh hi?" I said as I gathered my things from my trunk. I thought about just going back to my side of town and sleeping in my car to not deal with Betsy, however I was tired.

As I walked to her front door, Karen tackled me into a hug. "Ooh, I'm so happy you're okay. Your phone call scared me so much!"

"You didn't tell me you had company?" I whispered to Karen as we walked up the front steps.

"You didn't ask," she laughed as she opened the door, "besides, it's just Betsy!"

I followed the two into the house and Karen's parents stared at me in disappointment. They were both on the couch, cuddled with large eyes—as if I were contagious.

"Do you need food?" Marla asked. "I know you're hungry."

"Of course she does!" her dad said, who I once thought was her brother. "Grab a hot plate on the stove and you girls go to bed in thirty minutes."

"It's okay, I'm not hun—"

"EAT!" he snapped and I ran off to the kitchen without another word.

Karen and Betsy followed me and sat at the island in the kitchen. I could feel them watching my every move as I prepared a warm plate.

"Tonight is gonna be so fun!" Karen clapped. "It'll be like a sleepover I'm never invited to."

Betsy clapped and cheered too. "Yeah we can gossip, talk about boys, gossip, eat, dance, gossip—"

"Is that all you do?" I asked while stuffing my mouth with rolls.

"I thought you weren't hungry?" Betsy rolled her eyes.

"It's been a long day!" I snapped.

"Where did you go?" Karen said. "It's already midnight."

"I just went to get things off my back."

"Like what?"

"Well, everyone thinks I'm crazy. So, I made myself look even crazier."

"Why would people think you're crazy?" Betsy said as she bit into an apple.

"If you heard voices in your head, people would think you're crazy too. It's not normal, that's what I heard," I said as I ate some chicken.

"What kind of voices do you hear?" Karen said, as she got more interested.

"Does it matter, they're gone now. Well, at least one is...or I hope so."

Karen began to belly dance around the kitchen. "I think that would be so cool if I heard voices in my head. I would love to be a voice that people hear in their head—"

"How annoying would that be," Betsy joked.

"I wouldn't be annoying. I would just know all the gossip."

Karen's dad came into the kitchen, "You guys need to go to bed now."

Without a fight, we all obeyed and ran up to her bedroom. I couldn't understand how someone like Karen's family could afford such a fancy home. If I were her I would be the happiest person alive, knowing that everything was perfect.

Karen jumped on her bed and collapsed next to Betsy who was sitting by the window. "So about those voices. Do you think it's like a mental disorder?"

" _Okay, Mandy's mom_ , no I don't think so. I heard it happens to lot of people," I said sarcastically.

"Not to sane people," Betsy mumbled under her breath.

"Why does it interest you so much?" I said as I pulled out my sleeping bag.

"Um, I just know someone with a mental disorder and they hear voices like that," she said.

"Who?" Betsy said as her gossiping ears perked up.

"I'm not telling you," Karen said as she threw me a pillow.

"We are best friends. You have to tell me who this person is..."

"Why? So you can gossip about it to everyone in the restroom," I said.

"Plus, it's no one from school," Karen said. "It's not even worth talking about."

"Then why did you bring it up?" Betsy said.

Karen stayed silent as she pulled a pillow over her head, obviously not wanting to talk about it anymore.

I stretched across the floor, yawning. "I'm like super tired," I interrupted.

"Uh?" Betsy paused and stared at me.

"Go to sleep..." Karen said as she began braid Betsy's hair.

"You guys aren't going to talk the whole time are you?" I said.

"And?" they both said.

"Whatever, I'll sleep downstairs!" I grabbed my pillow and went downstairs to the den. I didn't want to sleep on the couch, but it would be better than a sleeping bag. And to think a rich family like them wouldn't let me use a guess room.

In the dark, I threw my pillow on the couch and jumped on top of it. "Yah, sleep!"

"Ouch!"

I jumped off the couch and turn the lamp on to see who was there. I gasped as I witnessed Karen's dad sleeping on the couch.

He jumped up in fright and acted as if he were reading. "Cassidy, what are you doing?"

"You startled me!" I said as I sat on the couch next to him. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, I'm apparently still asleep now," he joked. "Wait, why aren't you asleep?"

"The girls are talking," I said.

"At this time of night?" he said, as he was ready to get up.

"No, don't," I pulled him back. "Don't be such a... _dad_."

"Uh," he sighed and put his hands in his palms. "Marla kicked me out again."

"Um," I said, as I was confused on why he was telling me this.

"My wife," he paused as he pointed upstairs. "I know what she is doing up there."

"Um, what is she doing?"

"Nothing a fifteen year old should know."

"I'm seventeen—"

"Aren't you in Karen's class?"

"Art...I'm a senior."

He laughed. "Really, I didn't know that. I knew you looked a lot older than Karen and Betsy, but I had no idea."

"Is your wife having an affair?" I said.

I had remembered the memory clearly from the first time I was at the hospital for a drug overdose. Marla, whose name I did not know at the time, was behind the desk with Dr. Summings. And she wasn't asking for her results; she wanted a check out. I remembered her tight pencil skirt and ripped tights, with her open blazer with her tight white shirt.

"Yeah, she is having one," he said as he broke the memory.

"I know," I said.

"How?"

"I know stuff."

"Like what?"

"Just don't let her play with your heart. Women like her are mean who deserve every bad thing that comes to them. She knows Dr. Summings is married but she just couldn't help herself."

"Dr. Summings?" he whispered. "She's with Dr. Summings?"

"Was?" I said. "Or is? I don't want to get involved, Karen's dad."

"It's Raymond...and I won't involve you," he said. "Thank you."

"Yeah, let's not discuss this ever again." I pursed my lips in disappointment. I felt like a hypocrite, gossiping about Marla. I was going against everything I dreaded.

Raymond stood up and turned the television on but put it on mute. "So, why are you here?"

"Um, I had a fight with my mom," I whispered.

"You came over kind of late, Karen was worried about you."

"Well, I was talking to Rosa, you know Rosa Perez—"

"Miranda's mom."

"Yeah...well it didn't go too good."

"Why," he laughed. "Was it your speech?"

"She thinks I'm a nutcase. I kind of believe her now."

"Why would she think that? You don't seem crazy."

"I told her I hear voices and she flipped out. It's creepy, I guess."

"That's not creepy. I hear them too," he murmured. "Sometimes."

"Huh?" I said, not knowing exactly what he said.

"No, I just said I hear them too."

"You hear Mandy?"

"No, not her...but just other people I have no idea who they are. And they tell me things—bad things—evil things."

"Ha, same with me and Mandy...but no one seems to care."

"You don't want them to care, trust me. They'll lock you up as soon as they can when they realize you're not normal—whatever normal is. And then, they just post a stupid name on you to cover up the reason why you hear them."

I stiffened up as his tone began to get angrier. "Um, well it was nice talking to you, but I should get to sleep."

"Oh, okay..."

Chapter 10

### August 18

Raymond offered to drive us to school the next morning. He insisted on driving me as well because he said gas was too expensive. I knew his real reason. He probably thought I was going to ditch and tag the girls along with me.

"I'll pick you girls up at three sharp!" Raymond said. "And Cassidy, I'll take you back home to get more clothes. You're staying with us for a while," he winked and he sped off before I could reply. _Don't stay with them Cassie. Go back home._

"Um, okay?" I did not know what to say. I could not understand why a stranger was so nice to me. Why would he want to help a girl like me? Especially, since he realized I was off my wagon. I wouldn't even help a girl like me. If I were Raymond, I would run the next way and never look back. However, he had some issues of his own.

"I have to go print something at the lab. I'll see you guys later!" Betsy kissed Karen and ran off.

I stared at Karen who seemed distant. "Are you sure you and your mom can't patch things up?" she said as she realized me gazing at her.

"I really don't want to," I said. "Actually, I don't want to at all!"

"Why not?" she snapped. "You should consider it though."

"I thought you enjoyed my company."

"I do...it's just...I can't tell you now. I'll write you in a letter."

"A letter? Ew."

"That's what I'll do," Karen said while staring off into space.

"So, is Betsy living with you?" I said to Karen.

"Um, I'm not supposed to tell you, but my parents have temporary custody of Betsy," she whispered. "Like a foster kid."

"Why?" I asked as we walked the halls.

"Her mom went to jail for drug use."

"What? I thought her dad was in jail too?" I said.

"He is. Betsy's been living with us for five weeks already."

"You like taking in people, don't you?"

"Well, I'm an only child," she hinted. "Oh yeah, where'd you go last night? Are you mad at me?" Karen said as we stopped at her English class.

"I went downstairs and slept on the couch," I lied. Actually, Raymond let me sleep in the back pool house because he was on the couch. I do not know why I didn't tell Karen that. She did not need to know about her parents fighting.

"Oh," she said. "I'll see you later."

"Well, duh." I waved bye and watched her walk into class. _Cassie, do not go back home with Karen. Go home to Mama._

I ignored my dad's voice and continued walking. As I turned around, the annoying Rat Pack were walking toward me with suspicious smiles on their face.

"Why are you in the freshmen building?" I said. "Oh, I forgot you guys are idiots."

I was shocked as the Rat Pack walk passed me without a word. They did not torment me as they should or respond to what I said— _strange._

"Cassidy! Cassie!" Mr. Rivers shouted from his office as he saw me walk by. "I called Mr. Conner and he said it was okay that you missed this period. You're excellent in English, so it wouldn't matter."

I walked into his office in confusion. "Okay..."

"What is wrong? Did you forget we were going to do this daily session?"

I sat at my usual seat. "People think I'm crazy. I tried to make amends with Rosa but she called me a nut. Do you think something is mentally wrong with me?"

"Maybe, but I'm not a doctor. I wouldn't know—"

"But you consider it?"

Mr. Rivers began to dig around his cluttered office. "It would explain a lot—the voices, the memories that are so vivid, your intelligence, can all be a factor into a severe mental disorder. Just let me find that binder which has papers on it."

"Well, I don't hear Mandy's voice anymore. However, my dad's is becoming more talkative."

"I think you should see a doctor," he said and handed me the binder. "Flip through the pages and read upon disorders like schizophrenia and bipolar."

"I don't want to accept that I could have a mental disorder."

"You may also have a form of Munchausen syndrome or maybe somatoform disorder."

"Those are attention disorders aren't they? I don't want attention!" I said. "That's the last thing I want, Mr. Rivers."

"I don't know, like I said...I'm not a doctor."

"I never thought of ways to get attention—"

"Well, somatoform disorder can explain you in a way. You may not even be aware that you're doing it."

"I think our daily sessions should end here," I muttered.

"But, I'm trying to help you."

"It seems more like your labeling me when I clearly need help."

"And that is what I'm doing. I'm trying to offer you help but you won't listen!" he shouted. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, but I don't want you to end up like Mandy—"

"What do you mean, end up like Mandy?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to give away confidential info, but she's dead now and you were her best friend...well Mandy had an attention disorder," he said quickly.

"Like ADHD?"

"Well, it was less of a disorder and more like pseudologia fantasica—"

"In English please."

"She was sort of a pathological liar. And I knew this because we had daily sessions like these for about fourteen months. And she said some pretty crazy things. So, that is a reason why detectives were up your bum because they thought maybe you knew something...more maybe like there was no boyfriend or something out there."

I began to smile because of the new facts I knew. "She was a liar?"

"Well, she liked to make up lies, particularly about you and her mother."

"Really?"

"And she forgot things she lied about a lot too. She was the perfect person to be brainwashed. She was so gullible at times and forgot things easily as well, which explains her grades."

"Everything kind of makes sense now."

"You cannot tell anyone I disclosed this info with you. I would be in hell if they knew I told you this, especially since they are still trying to put the pieces together on her death. You don't know anything do you?"

"No, no I don't," I said as I got out my chair. "I should get going."

"But, what about our daily talks?"

"I don't think they're helping at all. They're making me worse."

"You'll be fine, right?"

"If I need to talk, I will come by here," I smiled and walked out his office.

I took a deep breath as everyone ran off to class again. I thought about going to art class but my mind was too busy and I couldn't focus—not that you need to think in art. Well, maybe me since I failed.

I sat down next to my locker like usual as I tried on new ways to put on my trademark eyeliner. I did not wear a crazy load of eyeliner like you would think. It was just enough to make the green in my eyes pop—I learned about that in Elle magazine. _You need to stop putting on so much makeup, or you'll age like Mama._

I shook my head vigorously as daddy continued to talk. "What is wrong with me? I am not crazy. Those voices do not exist," I said to myself as I flipped through a tabloid magazine.

I made my mind focus on the perfect lives of celebrities. I always wanted to know what it was like to live in California and be neighbors with a celebrity. Sometimes my mind would get stuck on what if my family would have moved there. I would probably be a drug addict and partied all the time. Instead of defending celebrities, my dad would have been defending me every weekend.

I began reading about an actress who poisoned her husband because she thought he was trying to kill her. Everyone claimed she was mentally ill, and now they want to lock her up in an institution. Maybe celebrities didn't have it too good. Reading that made me feel like my life wasn't too bad after all.

Just as expected, Karen turned the hall in anger. "Um, did you forget about art class?" she said as she sat next to me.

I rolled my eyes and threw my magazines into my locker. "I think I want to be a makeup artist," I said as I looked into my mirror trying to change the subject. "What do you think?"

"Eh, I guess so." With her glitter pen, Karen drew a heart on my wrist over an old scar. "You should be; I think you're awesome."

"But, my mom wants me to be a journalist."

"No, don't do that. Just be a makeup artist," she said as she drew another heart. "I cannot imagine you as a journalist."

"I know, right?"

"I wrote you the note," she said as she dug around in her tiny handbag. "I just forgot where I put it," she sighed.

"I don't understand why you can't just tell me in person," I chided. "What is the big deal?"

Karen stared at me with her big eyes that had way too much glitter and said, "I just can't tell you in person. It's way too embarrassing."

"Did you finally get your period?" I teased.

"What?" she gasped and threw her gum wrapper at me. "Why would I write that in a letter?"

I began to laugh, "I don't know, Karen. You're strange."

Karen sighed again and then her eyes grew immense. I looked up to see what she was seeing. It was Jordan standing over us. He looked odd, dressed in a plaid shirt instead of his usual leather jacket.

"Do you always ditch?" Jordan asked. "You're a bad influence on your sister."

I thought about correcting him, but I did not. I just stared at him as he laughed his creepy laugh as if he were up to no good.

"You have nice eyes," he said as I stared up at him.

"I tell her that all the time," Karen agreed. "Right?"

"Um..." I said. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Well, I should but I'm not," he laughed. "I'd rather smoke a cigarette."

"That is not a good habit," I said.

With his eyes still on me, Jordan leaned down next to us. Then, as he seemed uncomfortable, he gave in and just sat across from us. Now looking at Karen, he pulled a cigarette out his dirty black jeans and stuck it in his mouth. "Why doesn't Dr. Smith write you up for ditching? I can't tell you how many times I've been in trouble for it."

"You'll be in huge trouble if you dare light that cigarette," Karen said.

"Your sister is right," he said and stuck it back into his ripped pocket. "You don't speak much, Cassie."

"Are you stalking me?" I finally spoke.

Jordan laughed and I tensed up. "No, I'm not."

"He's stalking you?" Karen laughed. "That's my job!"

"You have a really creepy laugh," I said as my eyes narrowed. "And your voice is creepy too."

"How is my voice creepy? How do I laugh creepy," he said as he began to laugh again.

"I have no idea...it's just sounds like you're evil or wicked."

"Maybe I am," he whispered.

"I think it's mysterious," Karen said. "I like it."

"Thank you," he replied as he crossed his legs and his smiled turned wicked. There was something about him I didn't like—maybe the fact that he reminded me of every psycho boyfriend in a teen movie, or the fact that he talked as if he was always up to something. "So Cassie, is your name with a C or K?"

"What?" I said.

"Do you have a middle name?"

"Huh?"

"You said I'm stalking you...isn't this what stalkers do?"

I rolled my eyes, "Stalkers are undercover."

"Hmm..."

"We should get to class," I said as Jordan began to make me feel uncomfortable. "You should get to class too."

"Nah, I was just suspended," Jordan said as he jumped to his feet. "Dr. Smith is a jerk."

"Why'd you get suspended?" Karen said as she stood up.

"Let's just say, Mr. Conner won't be driving to the city in a while."

"You're bad," I said.

Jordan winked and walked the opposite way. Karen's mouth was nearly touching the floor as she watched him light his cigarette and walk out the school's door. She smiled at me when she noticed I was staring at her.

"I cannot believe we just talked to Jordan!" she beamed. "What until I tell Betsy."

I chuckled and bit my lip. "What is so cool about that?"

"That is Jordan—bad boy Jordan. And he's a senior and he talked to me!"

"I'm a senior and I talk to you," I mocked.

"But, you're a girl and you're not a bad boy! I love bad boys," she cheered. "I'm going to marry one when I'm older and tame him."

"Let me tell you something about that—"

"Oh, Cassie you're so boring. Don't you want a bad boy?"

"Not really."

"Like a guy who runs all the street lights and does ninety on the freeway! That's what I love."

"That stuff will get him killed. That isn't bad boy stuff. That is dumb boy stuff. If you ever meet a guy like that, I will kick his ass."

Karen stayed silent and just smiled.

As we approached our art class I took a deep breath and got ready for everyone to stare at me once again. And to think people thought I loved having attention.

Before I could walk in the class—"You're late!" our teacher shouted.

"Sorry," I muttered as I walked to my seat.

"Pull out a scratch paper and begin drawing what is on the board," she ordered. "Karen will catch you up."

As the teacher said, I pulled out a scratch paper and sat at my seat which was across from Karen. "What are you drawing—"

"OMG! He likes you!" Karen said as she continued drawing an ugly shaded apple. "Ooh, I think you will marry Jordan one day."

"What?" I gasped. "Why would he like me?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Just because you're obsessed with me doesn't mean everyone likes me."

"Well, I know boys. I'm educated in this stuff," she said. "And he likes you and you like him too. You never smile but you're smiling right now."

I touched my mouth and I could feel my wet teeth. I _was_ smiling. But, I wasn't smiling because of Jordan; I was smiling because of how stupid Karen was.

My day went on as good as any day in my life could have gone—it could have been worse. Mandy could be around— _wait that sounds mean._ Well, the day went by fast and before I knew it, the bell to go home rang and I was the first one out the door, but then I remembered I didn't bring my car.

"When is your dad coming?" I said as the streets began to get emptier. "Is he even on his way?"

"He should be," Karen said. "He won't answer his phone."

"I knew I should have driven my car."

"Wait there he is!" Betsy said as Raymond turned the street corner.

"I feel like a loser waiting for someone to pick me up when I have a car. I'm already a loser, but this just makes me feel—"

"Shut up!" Karen said as he opened the car door. "Hi, daddy!"

"Hey girls. I'm sorry I'm late. I had to call delivery for dinner," Raymond said. "Have a good day?" he asked, as we got into his shiny sports car, which made me think: _how the hell was he so rich, if he did not work?_ I never saw him get up and go to work nor did he talk about an at-home job. _Did he have a money tree or some genie that the rest of the world did not know about?_

"Um... _yeah_ _it was fun_." Betsy said.

"A blast," Karen said sarcastically.

"And you?" he asked me as he watched me get into the backseat.

"Eh, yeah...fine," I said.

"You're not too convincing," he said.

"I try," I said as I played with my hair.

"I see." Raymond drove off, driving about seventy miles per hour. "We are going to go by Cassidy's home first."

"I could have driven there myself."

"Oh no!"

"It's really no bother," I said as I played with my hair. "I really don't want you to drive to my side of town, especially with this nice car."

"Cassidy, you won't get out of this situation. I'm taking you whether you want me to or not!"

Do not let him take you back home. Cassie, honey, don't go back home. You're just going to be hurt even more.

"But he won't stop," I whispered aloud without realizing it.

"Are you okay?" Karen said.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just don't think it's a good idea for you to drive me back home."

Within four minutes, Raymond turned onto my street. "Is this your home, Cassidy?" he asked as he pulled up to the curb.

"Eh, yes," I said as I spotted a strange car in my garage. "I'll go in quick."

"No, I'll go in too," he said as he opened his car door. "I should meet your mother."

"Nope!" I held him back. "I insist—"

Before I could stop him, he was already on the front steps before me. He rocked back and forth, as he put his hands in his black jean's pockets. His smile caught me off guard as he knocked on the front door. He ran his hands threw his hair and then pulled out some gum from his plaid shirt's pocket. "Do you have a key?"

"Nope...well I do," I coughed, "but it's in Karen's room."

Raymond knocked on the door as if he were a cop. I put my ear to the window and I could hear Mama. "We should go," I said as he continued to bang on the door.

"Why?" he gasped. "I didn't waste my gas to be ignored."

"Let's just go," I said as I tried to pull him off the porch.

"Why?"

"Because!"

"Because what?"

"Because my mom is busy with the town's drunk!" I cried and ran back to the car. I slammed open the car door and put my head down to avoid the girls' eye contact. "Tell your dad, let's go!" I put my head between my knees as I could feel Karen and Betsy staring at me.

Karen sighed and got out the car. "Daddy, you know she is a mental patient. You can't upset her like that," I overheard Karen say.

"Did she just say I'm a mental patient?" I said as I lifted my head up.

Betsy shrugged and began to play with my hair. "I don't know."

Karen pulled Raymond off the porch and back to the car. He seemed so disappointed as if it were his fault my mom was a...you know what.

"I'm sorry, Cassidy," he said through the window. "I'll just drive back home."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you this whole time!"

"Well, can you blame me?" he said. "I was just trying to help."

In what seemed to be a pissed off mood, Raymond sat back in the driver's seat with his hand on the steering wheel. He did not turn the vehicle on, he just dazed off into space as if his mind was somewhere else.

"Are we going to drive or what?" I snapped. "I have things to do."

"We should just wait here," he said as he continued to stare off into space. "We can wait until your mother comes out here."

My body stiffened and I poked Karen for her to make him leave. She shrugged and waved her tiny hands in front of her dad's face. He was so out of it—so gone. I had never seen someone so distant like that since...well never.

"That's it, I'm leaving!" I snapped as I got out of the car. "I can't take it."

"Wait, don't leave!" Raymond said as he snapped back to life. "I'll drive now."

"It's too late!" I said and walked down the street toward Simon Park.

Not wanting to look back, I half turned my face so it wouldn't seem like I wanted them to come after me. However, they were gone. I paused in place as I searched for the shiny sports car—they left me!

"Watch out!" a man speeding on a skateboard said as he came crashing into me.

"Ah!" I screamed and crashed onto the wet grass.

"I told you to watch out!" he said and jumped on his skateboard and didn't even bother to help me up.

"What am I? Chicken scratch?" I muttered as I stood to my feet. My eyes perked up as much as a human's can, as I heard the world's creepiest laugh. "Jordan?"

With his leather jacket and wet helmet, Jordan pulled up to the curb on his motorcycle. "That was pretty funny—you falling on the grass."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah right...what's so funny about that?"

"So, your mother wasn't home?" he said as he turned his red motorcycle off.

I stared at his expression as he turned from laughter to seriousness. "How'd you know?"

"I was across the street at my grandmother's house and I saw you on the porch there," he chided. "This doesn't help the fact that you think I'm stalking you. It's funny because the more I talk to you, the more you remind me of Mandy—"

"Don't say that!" I covered my ears and began to hum. "I don't want people to say that I remind them of her."

"Why not? Isn't that a good thing?" Jordan opened his jacket and pulled out a box of cigarettes. He offered me one, but I refused.

"You shouldn't smoke so much."

"Eh, why?"

"My dad died from lung cancer. That is all I can think about when I see those sticks. He started smoking at your age too."

With a calm smile, Jordan handed me the box of cigarettes. "You take them."

"No, I said I didn't want them—"

"Calm down, Minnie Mouse, I want you to trash them for me. Just for you, I'll quit."

I snatched the cigarette box and stuffed them in my handbag. "You can't just quit like that."

"If I don't," he paused and started up his bike again, "you can punch me in the jaw like you did to Kyle, which by the way left him a pretty nasty bruise."

"Okay, it's a deal," I winked.

"Later!" he said and sped off down the street.

I entered Karen's home late at night, because the buses seemed to only run every two hours. As expected, no one greeted with 'ohs and awws, or we were so worried about you.' No one seemed to notice I was gone. _I told you not to go back to them!_

"Really, dad...you're confusing me now. First, you wanted me to stay here and leave Mama now you're saying—"

"Are you okay?" Marla said as she stared at me in confusion. "Who are you talking to?"

I collapsed back onto the couch and sighed. "No one."

"I'm watching this movie, you can watch it too," she said as if she was giving me the privilege to be with her. "Here," she threw a thick wool blanket over me, since she noticed I was shivering.

I could not stand being in the same room with Marla, let alone be under the same blanket as her. She was a cheat. It was the elephant in the room. I wanted to call her out so badly—

With loud movements, Raymond came downstairs with his guitar, interrupting the film my thoughts. He stumbled over the olive green throw rug that sat perfectly at the edge of the stairs.

"Ugh," Marla sighed and turned the television off. "No one wants to hear that trash!"

"Do you like music, Cassidy?" Raymond said.

"Of course," I said.

"Raymond, she doesn't want to talk to you!" Marla snapped. "Do you not get it? She wants to be left alone. Cassidy, you should just go get ready for bed."

"I'm okay," I insisted. "I have nothing better to do."

"No, just go to the room," she said. _Listen to her Cassidy. Go to the room NOW!_

"Ugh," I snapped and covered my ears. "I'm fine!"

The phone rang and Marla ran off to answer it in a jiffy. I swallowed as I watched Raymond's expression go from delight to pain. I was afraid he was going to explode. I did not want any of that happening while I was there. I was just an innocent guest. So much for thinking Karen's family was perfect.

"I like all music," I said, snapping him back to me.

"Oh, really...rock?"

"I like pop too."

"Oh, that's nice, Cassidy" he muttered as he listened to Marla laugh on the phone.

"It's Cassie," I broke the silence.

"Huh?" he said as he came back to reality.

"Cassie. Call me Cassie not Cassidy."

"Cassidy is your name, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Cassie," he smiled. "I'm sorry about today." With his eyes still on me, Raymond stood up and walked into the kitchen. He came back into the den with a black trash bag and handed it to me.

"What is this?"

"Your stuff," he beamed. "We went back to get it."

"You were in my house?" I snapped. "I told you to not go in there!"

"Calm down, your mother packed everything. After we left, Karen felt bad and said for us to go pick you up. So, when we turned onto your street, Valeria was standing on the porch smoking."

I took a deep breath. "Well...thanks I guess."

"You don't seem too happy about it. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's not you," I muttered. "Next time, just listen to me."

"Do you and your mother not get along?"

"It's a win-lose situation. We are never on perfect terms."

Raymond rubbed his hands together. "I had a mother like that—she was evil though. I hated her."

"Hate is a strong word—"

"She tried to kill me when I was four and I still remember it until this day. I think about it all the time. She killed my sister too," he whispered.

"Why do you say _too_?"

"She killed herself."

"I don't know what to say and I thought I had a bad life—"

"And she used to beat me," he whined. "Every day, all day long. She was an atrocious mother! I promised I would never—"

"Cassie! You came back!" Karen yelled from the top of the stairs. "Come up here, I need to talk to you.

I rolled my eyes, knowing what Karen had to say was nowhere near close to seeking my attention as to what Raymond was saying. "I'm talking to your dad right now."

"But, this is very important—it's about the note."

"Karen, I don't give a damn about your note!" I snapped. "Shut up about the note!"

"No, go talk to her; I'm just annoying," Raymond said. "You can go."

"No, she can wait. You're here spilling your guts to me and she can't just interrupt you like that," I said as Karen went back to her room and slammed the door shut.

"I don't like when people fight. You should go comfort her," he said.

I stayed silent and stared at Raymond's face to find a wrinkle. He had none. "How old are you?" I asked while not making eye contact.

"Old enough to be your papa," he laughed.

"Nah," I spit. "You look like ten times younger than my mom."

"I don't do drugs, I drink... _occasionally_ , always use sunscreen and I don't party."

"No wrinkles, eh?"

"I hope not," he chuckled, while picking at his skin. "Marla and I had Karen when we were thirteen."

"You have to be kidding me!" I gasped and thought about my pregnancy. "Thirteen?"

"Yup!"

"Wow, you guys were so young," I said in amazement. "What, you're like thirty now?"

"Not yet...I'm twenty-eight."

I smiled, "You're still young."

"Yeah, I know."

"I knew you had to be young. You look like a college student. For three months, I had thought you were Karen's older brother when you guys would come to the bowling center—or at least Marla's boyfriend—but too young to be a dad of a teenager."

He laughed and put his guitar on the floor. "Great compliment—"

"I've got a night shift," Marla said as she grabbed her keys to leave.

"Puff!" I said, under my breath.

"Where are your scrubs?" Raymond asked.

"Um...in the car," she lied. "I love you, bye!" and she ran out the house before he could say anything.

"Fifteen years together...Marla and I," he said as he got up to lock the door.

"I turn eighteen in about a month," I said, changing the subject. He was depressing me way too much.

"Do you?" he said. "Did you flunk a level?"

"Um...not that I know of."

"Hmm, well it shall be a new chapter in your life."

"I hope so."

"You can make the pool house your crash place for now."

" _Really_...thanks."

"I'm a nice guy. I can't just let you live on the streets."

"Well, you don't have to, but thank you."

### Chapter 11

August 21

I awoke to screaming from outside the pool house. Still drowsy, I hurried to the glass door and it was Marla and Raymond fighting—again. I covered my eyes as I tried not to look outside the door.

"You're a whore!" Raymond screamed.

"I'm not!" Marla cried.

"How can you be pregnant?"

"Huh?" I gasped as Raymond was walking toward the pool house in tears.

He slammed open the door and he began slamming his fist on the wall. In the most anger I've ever seen, he began to pull the wallpaper off the wall. "You know what?" he said while keeping his eyes on Marla as she paced around outside.

"Hmm?" I wrapped myself in blankets, as all I had on was skimpy underwear.

"What are you doing?" he turned around at me. "Did I bother you? Were you sleeping?"

"Um, no I was getting ready for class," I said. "It's Monday."

"Marla is a whore!" he said, ignoring me. "She's pregnant and I know it isn't my baby."

"How'd you know she's pregnant?"

"She said so!"

"And you know for a fact you're not the daddy?"

"Yeah," he said as he calmed down. "I hate her."

"Yeah then," I said as he sat next to me. "I don't know what to say."

"Sometimes I wish she were dead," he muttered.

I gasped and stood up, "Don't ever say that. That can be held up against you. I said that once about my friend and a month later she was dead and everyone was on me about it."

"You don't understand though. If she were gone, everything would be better—"

I moved from the awkward situation and walked over to the mirror. "I don't think you should say that. What if something really did happen to her?"

"I don't care!" he cried. "I just don't understand why Marla is such a bitch?"

"Girls can be that way."

"Are you like that too?"

"Um, I don't—"

"Don't answer that."

The room grew silent and I wondered if he would be leaving anytime soon so I could get ready for school. I watched him as he began to pace around the room, probably thinking up a crazy scheme. I cleared my throat, trying to get his attention.

"Am I bothering you? Were you going to do something today?" he sobbed. "I'm just so lonely now that Marla is with someone else."

I gasped in shock as I never seen a grown men cry like him. "Well...I only had school. It's not like I need an education."

"Oh Cassie, you're too funny. That is why I love you."

I stiffened up and walked to the bathroom. I slowly shut the door, hoping he would leave me alone. "I really need to get ready for school!"

"Oh, I can wait," he said as I imagined him blowing his nose in a dirty tissue.

_Wait for what?_ I thought. "No, I mean...I don't want to be late," I said as I quickly put on a pair of ripped short-shorts and a plaid shirt. "I have a lot to do today, I might not be home tonight," I lied.

"That's okay, I guess. I just thought you would stay around now that Marla won't be coming home."

I sighed, "Well, I guess I can change my plans—"

I opened the bathroom door and in fright, I jumped back because Raymond was standing right there with a box of tissue in his hands. "Thanks for talking to me." Raymond put his shaky hands on my shoulders and tried to pull me in for a hug.

"Well, you are my friend..." I said in an awkward stay-away-from-me tone.

I knew this moment too well. It was the awkward scene in movies where the people end up doing something they would regret. Then, I would get pregnant again and Karen would call me a slut. I saw a movie like that on Lifetime before. I did not want to be a slut and I did not want to be pregnant again—

Raymond gently put his hands around my neck and gave me a huge kiss on the lips. I did not know what to do, so I continued to kiss him. I had never kissed anyone like that before. And I know what you're thinking, _but Cassie, you were pregnant_ —so! I never kissed anyone before. A part of me wanted to stop...but it felt _loving_.

Raymond stared at me with tears in his eyes and then he scratched his nail into my wrist. It hurt, but I did not push him away.

"This is so wrong," I said.

"Um, I have to go!" Without saying another word, he ran out the pool house with tissues flying out his pockets behind him.

Later that day, at school, it was even more awkward. I found myself trying to avoid Karen as much as possible. She wanted a ride to school, but I refused and said I needed alone time. When she wanted to take a study break, I told her I had to make an important phone call. I did not want to tell her I made out with her hot dad. Could she blame me though? He was so hot nice.

I hid in the bathroom during art class practicing my thunderbolt makeup on my face. I did not mind being in the bathroom. I was not alone—the cigarette bunch ditched in there too.

I coughed up yellow spit as the cigarette bunch grew larger and the more hairspray they sprayed on their already big hair. I sat closer to the bathroom window to get fresh air and instead of using the stained wall mirror, I used my own handheld one.

"Busted!" Karen came into the bathroom with her hall pass. She used the hall pass so much to find me; it was "Karen's pass to find Cassie."

I hopped off a stool that was next to the window and tried not to make eye contact with her. I assumed like most teenage girls, Karen could read my body language. I had the whole kiss with her father written all over my face. I packed my bag and just as I was about to leave, Karen pulled me back.

"Are you avoiding me?" she said. "I haven't seen you all day."

"I've been busy," I lied as I washed my hands. "I told you I was having a long day."

"With what?" she laughed. "Ooh, cool thunderbolt!" Karen had a small mind and she sidetracked easily.

"Yeah, you like it?" I asked, trying to distract her from the previous conversation. It worked!

"Totally, so yeah Betsy and I are gonna get pizza with the dance team after school. Want to join?"

"Hell no! Me in a room with a bunch of teen giggly girls—I'll pass," I snapped.

Karen hugged me and put her tiny arms around my waist, mesmerizing my every move. "I knew you would say that—but there is pizza!"

I pushed her off me and she nearly slipped on toilet paper. "No—"

"Wait! What was I talking about before I got confused...something about you avoiding me?"

"I don't remember," I beamed as I walked toward the bathroom exit. "You should get to class. I don't want you to get suspended because of me."

"Both of us need to get to class."

"Uh, no!"

"Cassie," she whined, "you're supposed to graduate this year. How are you, if you ditch all the time?"

"Technically, she isn't ditching, since she's at school," Jordan interrupted as he walked passed us.

"See, at least someone agrees," I said.

"Well, I think it's bad," Karen said. "You should be on top of school. You don't have much time."

"Where are you going?" I asked Jordan as he headed toward the exit. "Did you get suspended again?"

"Nah, I got kicked out for talking too much, but I swear my talking was school related," he said.

"Oh really?" I laughed.

"But, I'm going to eat. Are you hungry?"

"Why do you always ask me that?" I said.

"I don't know, it's just a habit," he winked.

"Do I look like I don't eat or something?"

"Ha, no," he chuckled. "Sorry, I always offend you by asking that."

"Actually, I am. I don't have my car—"

"Jordan should drive you!" Karen butted in.

"But, that would be ditching," I said.

"Since when do you care?" she laughed as she pushed me next to Jordan. "I'll see you at home tonight. We can do makeovers later?"

"Um no, you know I don't like you touching me," I said.

"Hmm, I'll make you change your mind. I'll bring a movie home and we can stay up all night watching Mean Girls. Oh yeah, you remember that," Karen paused and began to whisper, "that note I wrote you. Well, I left it in your room. Read it when you get home, okay?"

"Whatever, Karen," I snapped, annoyed about her stupid letter.

"Well, I'll see you later," she shouted and ran back to class.

"So you want to go out to eat?" Jordan said.

"Maybe," I said.

"Maybe what?"

"I'm a little confused here—"

"Why?"

"Why are you stalking me?"

"I like your shoes," he changed the subject.

I looked down at my old ripped dirty brown boots—he was obviously lying. "Um, thanks."

"So, do you wanna go out to eat?" he asked as he pinched my leather jacket. "And I won't take no for an answer."

"Bummer," I said. "Well, yes, I don't want to eat with you."

"And I won't take 'don't' as an answer either," he said.

"I can't—"

"Cassie..." he whined.

I also knew that scene well too from many movies I had seen. He was the popular hot guy, who would ask me, the lame unpopular girl out because of a dare. I would find out and then I would be very dramatic as if I did not know the whole time.

"Nope!" I said.

"Why not?" he said.

"Because I've seen this happen many times before. I'm not a toy, Jordan."

"Seen what happen many times?"

"Nothing, I have to go to class."

"I'll see you later, then?"

"Maybe."

"Bye Cassie."

***

I was painting my toes a hot pink, listening to my MP3 as loud as it could go—blasting classic Guns N' Roses in my ears. Just as I was on the last toe, Raymond ran into the pool house, causing me to spill nail polish on my bed sheet.

"We need to talk!" Raymond sobbed. "This is urgent!"

I rolled my eyes. "Next time knock, please," I snapped as I cleaned the mess.

"About this morning..."

"It's no biggie!" I lied.

"I kissed you...and that was wrong."

"It was just in the moment," I said. "I'm not mad at you."

Raymond sat on the couch and I could feel his eyes following me. He coughed several times and since I was a self-proclaimed body language expert, I knew he was thinking of something to say.

He dusted off his pajamas as he looked around the pool house. "Where is Karen?" he broke the odd silence.

"She is at some pizza place with her dance team," I said.

"Why didn't you go?"

"Ugh," I laughed. "No offense, but I can barely stand Karen."

"No offense taken."

I walked to the window and saw Betsy jump into the pool. My first thought was _whoa she is crazy, it's chilly out there_. Then my second thought was _I thought she was with Karen and the dance team._

"I guess they're back," I said.

Raymond stood up and walked over to the fireplace. He lifted the last photo of Mandy and me and his eyes narrowed. "I thought you hate her."

"I do, but I also love her. She was my best friend."

"You sure are confusing. I wouldn't have a picture of an enemy on my mantel. Especially, since you hear her voice—"

"I do not want to talk about that."

"Everyone knows."

"Well, I don't want to think about it."

"I used to hear voices—evil ones."

"Enough," I whined. "I don't want to think about Mandy!" _Why not, because I'm perfect and you're not?_ "Thanks a lot Raymond, she's back."

Raymond opened the glass door of the pool house. "Hey, Betsy, where is Karen at? I have dinner on the stove."

"Um, I don't know," she yelled from the pool.

"Didn't you take the girls to school?" Raymond asked me. "And didn't you pick them up?"

"Nope, I walked to school," I said.

"Why would you walk when you have a car?"

"I like the peacefulness of walking."

"Um, so where is Karen?" Raymond asked Betsy

"I said I don't know!" she snapped and dived back into the pool.

It was the first time Raymond came off as a "dad." It shocked me how worried he seemed. I looked at his forehead and wrinkles began to appear that were never there before.

"Maybe she is with Marla?" I said.

"Nope, Marla is with you know who."

"Maybe she is with her dance team still? Did you call her?"

"I've texted her several times. Maybe, I should go searching for her. This isn't like her to not tell me where she is going," he said.

"I can help you look for her."

"No, you stay here with Betsy. Karen might come back home while I'm out." Raymond ran out the pool house and he disappeared within the nasty fog that was taking over the backyard.

I walked outside to Betsy and she stared up at me. "What is wrong?" she asked. "Is Karen okay?"

"Do you know where Karen is?" I said.

"No...she should be home. Let me get out the pool and call her."

While in the house, Betsy sent Karen a tenth text after thirty minutes of no luck. Raymond was still gone and he had not called back yet. Therefore, as a mature teen, I kept my eye on Betsy. And by keeping my eye on her, I mean I gossiped with her in the kitchen.

"I worried about her," I said. "I have a bad feeling."

"You worry too much, Karen is probably at Best Buy trying to get a new CD," Betsy said.

"No, she always returned my calls and texts with quickness. This is the longest I've not heard from her."

"We should think about something else...like Jordan. Everyone knows about you and him."

"What do you mean?" I laughed. "We have nothing going on."

"I think Jordan loves you!"

"He doesn't even know me, so how can he love me?" I said.

"Well, then he likes you."

"Who would like me?"

"I like you...in a non-lesbian way," she chuckled and bit into a taco. "Well, it doesn't matter."

I grew quit as Betsy chewed loudly in my ear. "Can I ask you something?" I broke the ten-minute silence.

"Yeah, what?"

"Do you like your life?"

Betsy got quiet and all I could hear was her chewing again. She tore up her face as if it tasted nasty. "I don't know. Why would you ask me that?"

"I just wonder. Your life seems more messed up than mine."

"I have my days. I know how you feel, Cassie."

My eyes grew large. "Why don't we ever talk about this? I mean, you seem so shallow when I hear you and Karen's conversations. I really don't like you."

"Nah, Karen wouldn't understand what it's like to have our life."

"She really wouldn't."

"Now, can I ask you a question?" she said.

"Yeah, what?" I said.

"What is the hardest thing you have overcome?"

"Um, well if I tell you, you cannot gossip it to anyone," I said as I played with my bracelet. "You see this." I held my bruised wrist to her. Wrapped around it was a cheetah print thread with three knots on them.

"Yeah, why do they have knots on them?" she asked.

"All these knots represent a struggle I overcame. I would tie a knot on my bracelet."

"Why is this knot bigger than the rest?" she asked as she touched the bracelet. "What do they represent?"

"This was my first knot—"

"Let me guess, it represents suicide?"

"Nope...actually none of them do," I sighed.

"Why not?"

"Because it's still a challenge for me."

"So, what do they mean?" she asked as she sat closer to me.

"This first one represents my dad's passing. The second one is from killing my dog—"

"You killed your dog?"

"Well, I accidentally sat on my puppy."

"Ouch, what a sad way to die!"

"Yeah...and my third one is the biggest one..."

"What is it?"

"Betsy, you cannot tell anyone...not even Karen!"

"Okay, I won't...tell me!"

I sighed already regretting what was about to come out my mouth. "This knot represents my mom."

"That's not so bad—"

"She has HIV."

"What?" she gasped. "Your mom has HIV?"

"Yup, end of story...I don't want to talk about it!"

"Okay then, we won't," she whispered. "But, do you have—"

"No!"

"So, why don't any of the knots represent Mandy?"

I stared at my bracelet, "Hmm, I don't know."

"But you—"

My phone rang, cutting Betsy off—perfect timing since she wanted to continue the conversation.

"Hello—"

"Hurry to the emergency room!" Raymond shouted as if I could not already hear him.

"What happened?" I said.

"Karen has been in a car accident!" and he hung up before I could reply.

I covered my mouth in fright. "Oh my god," I said and grabbed my handbag.

"What?" Betsy said.

"Karen has been in a car accident! We have to head to the emergency room."

"Okay, let me get my jacket!"

On our way there, I couldn't stop thinking about Karen. I could barely drive normally, with just the thought of her being in danger. My biggest fear was that Karen was hurt—and the last thing I said to her was "whatever."

As soon as we arrived to the hospital that I had been to too many times, Raymond came sobbing in my arms. I did not want to ask him about what happened, but I wanted to know. _This is your entire fault_ —

"Why is this my fault?" I snapped.

"What do you mean?" Raymond cried and stared at me in confusion. "I didn't say anything."

"I know you didn't say anything—Mandy said—never mind."

"Oh Cassie!" Raymond cried in my arms. "I knew something was wrong."

"What happened to my best friend?" Betsy said. "Will she be okay?"

"Yeah, was it a major car accident? You're probably over reacting," I said.

"She had been hit about an hour ago by a huge pick-up truck. And to think, Marla knew this whole time and she didn't even call me!"

"Maybe because she was too busy with you know who," I muttered under my breath and looked over to Betsy whose eyes narrowed at me and Raymond. Before her mind went haywire, I pushed Raymond away from me.

"Will she be okay?" Betsy said.

"I have no idea—"

"She lied to me!" I said. "She told me that she was gonna eat with the dance team. She even invited me to go with her."

"She probably knew you would say no," Betsy said.

"But, she said you were going too."

"No way! The dance team did not have any plans. I would know...unless they didn't invite me."

"I'm pretty sure she lied," Raymond said.

"Well, she told me that today," I said.

"Well, I had told her I had plans with my other friend Rachel and said I wouldn't be home until late. But, I didn't end up going." Betsy said.

"That's odd; why would she lie?" I said.

"I don't know!" he sobbed. "All girls lie, I guess."

"That is not true!"

"Does it really matter now? She is not okay; she is in a coma," Raymond said.

"Really?" we both said.

I felt horrible. I finally learned what it was like to have a guilty conscious. Well, I had one prior to that, but it didn't faze me like this. I should have just said "Yes, I'll go eat with the dance team!" She would not have been in that situation—only if I did not take her for granted—like I did for everyone else.

"Wait, Karen can't drive," Betsy said. "Who was she with?"

"Marla said a boy—"

"I'll kick his ass—"

"He died," Raymond cut me off.

"Wow, are you serious?"

"Karen is lucky to be alive."

Then, I thought about my previous conversation with Karen about bad boys—I should have known.

Chapter 12

### August 22

I went to school early, just to speak to Mr. Rivers. And I mean early—no one was walking the halls yet. I let myself into his office and waited for him like an annoying puppy.

Mr. Rivers came into the office and he jumped in fright when he saw me sitting at his desk. "Cassidy?"

"I know I'm early, but I need to talk."

He turned on the office light and dumped his books on the table. "It's sort of early. School doesn't technically open until seven."

I checked my watch and it said six am. "But, it's urgent."

"Who let you in?"

"Oh, someone from band let me come inside."

With his eyes still on me, Mr. Rivers pulled out his breakfast. "What is the matter? You look so pale."

"It's about Karen Daniels."

He sighed. "I heard about her. Is she okay?"

"No, she's not and I can't help but blame myself," I cried. "It's my fault."

"Why is your fault?"

"Well, I didn't go with her to her dance meeting but I should have said yes and not be all anal about everything and I should have known because she told me she likes bad boys—"

"Calm down!"

"How can I? This is like the Mandy situation all over again. Everyone is gonna blame me. Is Karen going to stalk me in my head too?"

"I'm going to tell you something and this is coming from my heart. Cassie, the reason why you believe you hear those voices is because of guilt. And I know this because, look at you now. You're shaking in your seat, you have snot coming out your nose, and you keep blaming yourself for every bad thing."

"So, you're just saying the same thing as everyone else. That I'm a nut!"

"No, I'm saying you have a guilty conscious. And nutty people, from what I have studied don't really have a conscious—but you do."

"So, how do I fix this?"

"You need to come to terms with everything. There is a reason why you still hear Mandy, your dad, and anyone else and that is because you didn't tell them something that you need to get off your back."

"And what is that?" I said while blowing my nose. "Is there like a recovery technique? Or a cure?"

"Only you know—I wouldn't know," he laughed.

"My mother has this coping technique when she would brush my hair."

"I remember when my mother passed away. I went through the same grief as you. Oh, I went through years of grief—and I would always think about her. I would lose sleep over her...hell sometimes I swear I heard her voice."

"Did you get better?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I went to her grave and I talked to her. I never told her I loved her and how I appreciated her. It may sound a little loco, but it worked. And now I only think of the good times with her."

I smiled and wiped my tears. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For taking your time and talking to me. So, you think I should go talk to Karen?"

"Well, let's start off with Mandy. You still didn't handle things with her. And you don't have to go to her grave site or anything. You can just sit in your room and talk to her."

"And it will work?"

"It's a mental thing. If you believe it will work—it will work." Mr. Rivers began to dig around in his files. "That is your assignment for today—you can start off with one person a day, and then we will work on you."

"What is wrong with me?"

"Everything."

I sighed. "I suppose so."

"I will let you take this day off, but you have to do the assignment."

"Really? You'll let me go home?"

"Yup."

With a huge smile, I hugged Mr. Rivers and left his office. I continued to think about where and when I would talk to Mandy. I could not make up my mind, if I should to visit her grave and speak to her. Her grave was in walking distance from Karen's home.

When I arrived at the bitter place I now called home, Raymond did not speak to me. He didn't even ask what I was doing home. He just went into an opposite room and I could hear him sobbing on the telephone. I felt like comforting him, but what good would that do. I understood he wanted to be alone.

I sat at the kitchen table, alone like usual and ate breakfast. Pulling a Betsy, by being nosy, I dug around mail that was next to me. One letter caught my attention because it was from the hospital. It said Karen's staying bill was close to three-thousand dollars and that was only from being there in one day. You would think, since Marla worked there that stuff would be free. However, that bill didn't make sense. That was way too much so I continued to read it. As I read on, the letter said that Karen was in a vegetative state and that should would not be able do anything normal again.

My heart skipped a beat and I put the letter back where I found it. "Jeez."

"Cassie?" Raymond called from the den.

"Yeah?" I said and walked over to him.

"What are you doing home? Shouldn't you be leaving to school?"

"I already went; Mr. Rivers said I could stay home and do an assignment."

"So, basically you were suspended."

"No," I laughed. "I wasn't suspended."

"Is it because of Karen? You know, she really will be fine. I haven't seen her, but Marla said she is in a coma."

I paused, realizing Raymond didn't know Karen's actual state. "Oh, no it's for something personal that I need to handle."

"Come sit with me."

I walked over and sat next to Raymond. So, it wouldn't be awkward, I turned the television on. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I hope Karen is okay," Raymond said as he wrapped me in his arms.

"She will be," I said and laid my head on his chest.

"I wonder what she is thinking now."

"I'm sure she is thinking about boys."

"Ugh!" he cried again.

I fanned him with a paper, to cool him off. "I mean, not boys—I mean fashion. That's right, Karen is thinking about fashion."

"Fashion?"

"Yeah, all little teens like fashion."

He moaned and put his head down. "Why do you want to die? It doesn't seem fun. You miss out on everything in life."

"I don't know. It's the way I'm built."

"That doesn't make sense."

"You know those people who need to get rid of a limb?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm like that... _sometimes_."

"So, you want to lose a limb too?" he gasped. "What is wrong with you?"

"No!" I said. "I don't want to lose a limb; I was just giving you an example."

"We shouldn't talk about death."

"Yeah, we really shouldn't—"

"I can't do—" Betsy walked into the den and saw us snuggled up on the couch.

"Betsy?" I shouted as I jumped up from Raymond's arms.

"Eh, I'll come back." she said as she went running out the den.

"I should go talk to her," I said as I got up.

"Eh, okay," he said.

I walked out the den and into the kitchen looking for Betsy. I tried to get what I was going to say straight. But, they were all lies. I was a liar—a slutty liar.

"I see your plan," Betsy smiled as I came into the dining room. "Isn't that illegal what you and him are doing?"

"We aren't doing anything," I said.

"Still looks illegal. They're so many guys in the world and you want Karen's dad?"

"I don't want him. I'm just comforting him through this hard time."

"I'm like a professional in body language and the way you were in his arms looked more like you want each other."

"I'm not gonna stand here and let a little girl who hasn't even hit puberty talk about me!"

"Whatever!" she flipped her hair. "I just can't wait to tell everyone!"

"Betsy, you are the most annoying person I know! I cannot stand you! Haven't you heard the saying, 'what is said in this house stays in the house'?"

"Nope, have you heard of a girl being a slut named, Cassie?"

"Why would you do this to me?"

"Whatever, I can't wait to tell Karen about you."

I shoved Betsy in the barely chest she had and walked toward the front door. I could hear her moaning in pain as she shouted back at me to come back. Yeah, right, what would she do?

I left out the house and began walking down the hill, not really knowing if I should go to Mandy's grave. The only other place good on this side of town was the mall. So, it was either the mall or Mandy. I paused in place as the smell of cigarettes, gas, and body spray choked me.

I turned around and Jordan pulled up next to me in his motorcycle. "Hey, Cassie! What's up?"

"Hello, my stalker," I said.

"Where are you headed?"

"Nowhere special...maybe the mall or the cemetery."

He began to laugh, "That's a big difference—a grave or the mall."

"Um, I guess so. Why are you over here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

"Eh, I don't feel like going," he whined.

I rolled my eyes, "What's new? You never go to school."

"Who are you to judge? You're never in class either."

"Well, bye," I said and walked at a faster pace.

"Wait, so why are you going to the cemetery?"

"None of your business."

"Can I join you?" he asked.

"It'll be pretty boring."

"You don't seem boring."

"Listen, if this is some joke you and your friends are into...f—"

"What?" he laughed. "You're so paranoid."

"Of course. I'm almost eighteen and I never had people approach me like you."

"What am I doing wrong? We can't be friends?"

"It is really annoying how you keep talking to me."

"So, I won't speak to you anymore if it annoys you."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just never had a person go through loops to be my friend."

He beamed. "Hmm, that means I can go with you then?"

"Why would you want to go to a cemetery?" I snapped.

"Why would you want to go?" he said. "Are you going to do black magic or something creepy? Are you one of those people who dig up dead bodies at seven in the morning?"

"No," I chuckled.

"Then why? If everyone else knew about this fetish you have, then they would think you're creepier."

"It's not a fetish! Mr. Rivers gave me an assignment to talk to everyone who is on my conscious or rather who are controlling my life. And Mandy, being one of them. He can't work on helping me, if I don't get the blockers out the way."

"It's kind of like science."

I smiled, liking how Jordan did not judge me. "I guess so."

"So, can I still come along?"

"Well, hmm—"

"I swear I have nothing else better to do."

"You can come, but you have to drop the cigarette and park the bike."

Without another word, Jordan threw his cigarette on the wet ground and turned his motorcycle off. "Let's go then."

"Wait, I thought you said you were quitting. And I recall you said I could smack you if you didn't quit."

"Cassie, I was just kidding."

"Kidding?"

"I'll quit but you cannot smack me!"

We began to walk out the city and approached the busiest street that led to the mall. I felt as though everyone was staring at us as we approached the stop light. I was a nobody alone, but with Jordan, I was a somebody that people wanted to talk about.

"You look cold," Jordan said as we crossed the street. "This is why I hate Simon, Idaho. It's summer but yet it's all moist. Are you cold?"

"No, I'm fine," I snapped.

"You're really hard to read. I don't know if you're playing hard to get or you're really this cold-hearted."

I smiled. "You have a lot to learn about me."

"Uh, I heard about your sister. I'm sorry," he said as we got closer to the cemetery. You could tell we were getting closer because more trees filled the street and no one was in sight.

"I don't have a sister."

"What? That little girl you're always with."

"She's not my sister," I snapped.

"So, she's your friend?"

"Eh, I guess so."

"So, you do have a friend!"

We paused at the gate entrance as us being there so quickly startled us. The sign that read 'Simon's Cemetery' gave me chills down my spine. It felt like yesterday that we were there burying Mandy. It had rained that day too and her grandmother kept on saying that was a bad sign.

"Are you ready? Can we just walk in?" Jordan said. "I've never been to a cemetery like this before."

"Yeah, we can just walk in. I think there are cameras to watch for grave diggers."

Jordan took a deep breath and walked at a slow pace behind me. I could hear him breathing profusely as we got closer to her tombstone. Tears began to flood my eyes, as the biggest tombstone was right in front of me—Mandy's. Rosa went all out for her daughter's funeral because she thought Mandy deserved something so special.

"What are you going to do?" Jordan said as we sat in front of the gravestone. "Do you need tissue? I have tissue somewhere in my pocket." He began to dig nervously around his jacket.

"No, I'm fine," I smiled. "I have this note, um, that I wanted to read. It's kind of embarrassing though, since you're here."

"Oh, I won't even say anything, I swear. I'm not here to mock you," he said as if he were a robot. "I'm here to support you to get better."

I pulled up a note that I had in my pocket—I had written it before her funeral and was supposed to read it, but Mama said it was too raw and everyone would hate me even more if I did read it. "Should I read it now?"

"Um, it's your decision. I'm just here because...well I don't know why I'm here."

"Um, let me see...I should start," I glanced over the note looking to see where I should begin. "Well Mandy, um...I don't know what to say," I said to Jordan.

"Just tell her the truth."

"Mandy, I don't hate you; I hated who you had become in your later months. I actually love you and I want to say I love you to death but I would be lying...wait that sounds bad...I do love you to death...as you can see Mandy I don't know what I'm doing. I just have so many questions I want to ask you. And if you had it in your heart...you would let me live my life. And I don't want to remember the bad times with us, just the good ones. When me and you would sing karaoke until our voices were fried, and when we would give each other makeovers and you have me looking like a tramp from 60th street and I had you looking like a model off the runway. Those were our good times. That's it."

Jordan sighed and rubbed my back. "Wow, that was intense. I could feel her. It's like an outer body experience. That was literally the best thing that has ever happened to me."

I giggled and felt a lot better too. "I don't hear her. It's all mental," I said as I thought about Mr. Rivers. "If I want to remember the happy times, I should be able to remember the happy times, right?"

"Of course!" Jordan gasped.

"I've been driving myself nuts this whole time! It was me planting those ideas and voices in my head—it was not Mandy—it was me making myself suffer because of guilt."

"Wait, guilt from what?"

"Guilt because I never told Mandy the truth," I smiled. "But, now I did and I feel so much better. I can run a mile!"

Jordan gave me a high-five at a moment where he should have ran away. "That's amazing. Our mind is so powerful."

"We should go eat something," I said as I stood up. "We passed a fast food place a block away."

"Okay," he said and we skipped out the cemetery as if we were high on drugs.

That whole experience at the cemetery brought me closer to Jordan. I couldn't name one other person who would agree to sit with me and talk to a dead person. No one in their right mind would do that, especially if I said I hear voices in my head.

Jordan and I sat at a table for only two seats. I couldn't read him and I wondered if he would go back and tell his boys everything about what happened. I also wondered if he thought I was a nutcase like everyone else did.

"You're not going to tell Kyle what happened today are you?" I said.

"No, why would I tell him...unless you want me to," he said.

"Well, he is your best friend."

"Just because we hang out every day, doesn't mean he's my best friend."

"Then, what is he?"

"I don't know...just a friend. We are so much different. I honestly just like him because he gives me free gas because his dad owns the gas station and he buys me cigarettes—"

"Which are bad for you and you're gonna quit."

"Sure," he grinned. "Kyle is such a moron sometimes."

"I thought I was the only one who noticed."

"No, everyone thinks it."

"That's good then."

"So, you feel better now that you got that off your chest?"

"Well, I'm half better. I still need to get things off my chest with my dad. However, I don't even know why he continues to ridicule me."

"Hmm, did you guys get along?"

"Like icing and cake."

"Then what?"

"He doesn't like me being with my mother. That is the only thing I can think about. He also tells me to not stay with Karen. He confuses me. I just have to remember it's all mental. It's me doing this to myself. And I won't let him bother me."

"Do you hear him now?"

I stayed quiet actually waiting to hear him speak. "No, not now. It's usually at odd times when I'm not thinking about it, but maybe somehow subconsciously I'm thinking about him."

"Eh, that would annoy me."

"Don't you have a conscious?"

"I do, but it's nowhere near as annoying as yours. I mean, things bother me quickly but then I'm over it within a few hours or days," he laughed. "It doesn't bother me like you."

"Maybe because I have nothing to think about—like I don't have friends to ease my mind."

"You don't have any girlfriends at all that you can talk to?" Jordan asked.

"Eh, I can't tolerate them."

"So, you hate girls?"

"You wanna know why I hate girls?" I said as I bit into my cold burger.

"I wanna know why you hate everything in general?" he said as he picked at his fries.

"We'll get to that later...but girls are so stupid!"

"Why?"

"They let their emotions have the best of them. They fall in love too easily, and then they break the guy's heart!"

"That's deep!"

I stuffed my mouth with fries. "And also like Karen, the girl who you thought was my sister. She was in a car with a boy doing lord knows what!"

"Was he drunk?"

"I have no idea. I think they're gonna do an autopsy."

"He died?"

"Yup," I said emotionless.

"Damn that sucks. Do you hate yourself since you're a girl then?"

"Yeah, I hate myself all the time."

"Must be awesome—"

"Hey, Jordan," said a "cool" girl from our school. I did not know her name so she was not popular to me. However, everyone else praised her. "What are you doing?"

"I'm eating," Jordan said. "As you can see."

"With Cassie?" she said.

I wondered how she knew my name since I was a nobody.

"Yeah," he said sarcastically. "You should leave."

She flipped her fake hair and walked away, feeling horrible he rejected her for me—a loser.

"Good job. I didn't think you had balls," I said and poured ketchup on my fries. "You're impressing me more and more."

"I have plenty of balls," he said as he flexed.

"Hey, I don't want to hear about your extra growths on our first date," I said.

He laughed, stopped, and stared at me. "Date?"

"Oh, did I say date—"

"Yeah, it's our first date. Hopefully more to come," he smiled.

"Interesting, our first date was at a cemetery where I talked to my dead best friend."

"This is a good start," he chided and my heart melted.

After our breakfast/lunch, Jordan decided he would head to class at least for science. I thought about going back to school too, just to talk to Dr. Rivers about my assignment. He probably didn't think I would actually go to the cemetery and talk to Mandy. Honestly, I didn't think I would do it either.

Bought time I got home, dinner was already on the table. I was still full from earlier, but I didn't want to offend Marla and her cooking so I sat at the table.

"Where were you all day?" Raymond said.

I stared at Betsy, who was still mad at me earlier for shoving her. "Um, just walking."

Marla sat down across from Raymond and smiled at me. "Walking where?"

"Just around."

The dinner table was probably the most awkward moment of my life. The fact that Karen was not there made it even more terrible. Raymond and Marla could have easily kicked me out their house, since I didn't belong to them and they didn't have custody of me. I was just waiting for them to say for me to pack my things.

"Since Karen isn't here I want to get something off my shoulders," Marla broke the silence.

I held my breath, not wanting to be part of this conversation. I tried to think about happier things, like puppies and llamas but it didn't work.

"Raymond, I'm in love with another man. I'm gonna have his baby and I'm leaving you," Marla said.

"But Marla!" he cried as he slammed his spoon down. "Please tell me this is a joke?"

"I'm sorry. You just bore me! I should not have to be with the same man since I was thirteen. I deserve a man who will take me out and travel with me!"

"Marla, I do everything for you!"

This scene was beyond a Lifetime movie. The husband would pull out a gun and threaten to kill himself. Better yet, he would shoot all of us and flee to Cuba.

"How could you cheat on me?" Raymond cried. "I'm still young looking, I have no gray hairs, and I have a six pack!"

"I don't love you anymore. I only stayed with you because of Karen. Now that Karen is... _well it's time_ ," she hesitated.

"Now, that Karen is what?" he snapped.

"Dead? You're trying to say she is dead aren't you?" I gasped. "How dare you."

"What is the likely she will be normal?" Marla said.

"Typical. You're hoping Karen would die so you can move on with your life!" Raymond shouted.

I looked over at Betsy who had her head down in her plate. I was ready for her to defend her best friend's life, but she did not.

"Karen is not dead yet!" Raymond screamed so loudly I think the neighbors could hear him.

"In my head she is!" Marla said. "I know that sounds bad, but you haven't seen her yet."

Betsy stood up on her chair, nearly falling over. "Everyone, Cassie's mom has HIV."

"What?" we all gasped.

"Why'd you say that?" I said and pushed her off the seat.

"I don't know. I wanted everyone to stop fighting!" she said as she collapsed to the floor. "I hate when people fight."

"Your mom has HIV?" Raymond came over to me. "Do...you...have—"

"No, I don't have it. She was diagnosed a few years ago."

"I already knew that," Marla said. "I used to work at the clinic she got tested at. I remember I held her in my arms when she got the results."

"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

"We have to discuss this. We are a family now," Raymond said as he sat down.

" _We_ are not a family. _I_ have no family," I snapped. "And neither do any of you. Marla is a home wrecker, Betsy has druggie parents who will never come back for her, and you Ray, you have nothing without Karen because you cannot stop Marla from leaving you."

"You're cold," Betsy said.

"No, I'm honest. I don't sugarcoat bullshit like you all do. You said Karen is in a coma. You lied. I saw the papers on the table when I got home...she is in a persistent vegetative state."

Marla began to cry. "You are evil!"

"I'm evil? You just said she was dead to you."

"Is this true?" Raymond said. "Is she really not in a coma?"

"I'm sorry," Marla said. "I was going to tell you, but..."

It was not my goal to make everyone hate me. I hated when people made things out to be what they were not. It also was not my goal to make everyone happy. And I was good at that—better than most.

"Stop trying to make things happier than what they aren't," I snapped.

"So, then what's the point of living?" Betsy asked. "We should just all die if we have no purpose."

"That's the question I've been asking myself my whole life; what the meaning of life is. What is my purpose on Earth?"

### Chapter 13

August 30

Mr. Rivers was early this time. I knocked on his office door, trying not to startle him. He nodded for me to come inside as he continued to sign papers. "Hello, Cassidy."

"Oh, Mr. Rivers, I have so much to tell you! I did it. I spoke to Mandy last Tuesday!" I cheered as the bell to class rang. "I told her everything."

His eyes narrowed, "What do you mean, you spoke to her?"

I leaned back into my chair, as if I were comfortable at home. "Like you said—"

"You went to her grave by yourself?"

"Well, Jordan was with me."

"Jordan McNeal was with you?"

"Yes, he was with me and it was probably the most uplifting experience ever!"

"Well, that's great..."

"Now, all I need is my next assignment for my dad."

"Eh..."

"What is wrong, Mr. Rivers?"

"I'm afraid we can't do this whole thing anymore."

"Why not?"

"Well, Dr. Smith said it was best if I forward you to the town's psychiatrist. He said I'm not trained to evaluate someone of your status," he said and handed me some papers.

"What did he mean by someone of my status?"

"Well, after that whole fit you threw at Mandy's memorial, everyone thinks—"

"I'm a nut—"

"But, I don't think you are. You just have a different way of handling things."

"I like talking to you though, and you're in school to become a psychiatrist anyway, so why can't we talk?"

"According to Dr. Smith, I'm not trained to do so."

"All the shrink is going to do is drug me up with happy pills and take all of Mama's money."

"I know, but that's how life is."

"We can still talk though—"

"Well, not during school hours, maybe like at lunch or break or something. I don't want to get written up by Dr. Smith and then that can show up to my college."

I frowned and signed the paper saying I would go see a psychiatrist. "But, one last thing."

"What is that?"

"What about my father...I need to get him out my head too."

"Um, I don't know...why is he bothering you?"

"I don't know."

"Well, first you have to figure out why he is bothering you, and then your psychiatrist can tell you what to do next—"

"But, I want to know from you. You were so excited to help me, but now you're all down and it's annoying me. I want help from you, so help me! Your solutions work, I'm over Mandy and all I see is the good times."

With large eyes, Mr. Rivers stared at me. "You see that paper on your lap—"

"Yes?"

"Well, it has someone's number on it," he paused and pointed at himself. "If you need any more help, then call me. However, do not make this a habit!"

I smiled and nodded my head. "Okay. So, my assignment for this week is to figure out why my dad is in my head."

"Well, I would rather say your assignment for the day, since you handle Mandy's in one day—"

"But, what if I can't figure it out in one day?"

"Then, take as long as you want."

"Thank you, Mr. Rivers. You don't understand what you mean to me!" I beamed and walked out the office in joy.

When I left, the halls were empty as everyone was in class already. I thought about going to class but my teacher thought I was with Mr. Rivers anyway, so there would be no point. I scanned over the papers he gave me, and he forwarded me to a psychiatrist named Martha Conan. I sighed as I despised female doctors in general.

In my usual routine, I pulled out my mirror and my bag of makeup, waiting for Karen to come walking down the hall, but then I remembered...she wouldn't be coming. It was lonely sitting at my locker knowing Karen wouldn't be sneaking out of class to see me. I never knew how much I would miss her nagging me to get to class.

My eyes watered at the thought of never seeing or speaking to Karen again. I took Karen for granted. I never knew what being in love with someone was like or to love someone. But, I think I learned. I learned what it was like to be missed.

I listened as I heard Dr. Smith arguing with Jordan. I could not see them, but they sounded as if they were outside the school building. I stiffened up as Dr. Smith turned the corner in anger. I expected him to say something to me about Mr. Rivers or how he thought it was best if I got real mental help. However, he did not speak to me; he just continued to walk down the hall.

"Hey, Cassie," Jordan said as he turned the corner next. "I missed you."

"You missed me? Why?"

"It's been a long day," he whispered and sat next to me, in Karen's usual spot.

"Trust me, I know," I said, not in the mood to joke around with him.

"So, how are you?" he asked. "I see you're not practicing your makeup."

"Yeah, I'm not in the mood," I put my makeup bag, back into my locker. "Why were you arguing with Dr. Smith?"

"He said I shouldn't ride my motorcycle to school because I bring a negative vibe."

"What," I giggled from amusement.

"Yeah, he's a jerk. I'm eighteen, he can't tell me what to do!"

"Well, my day didn't start off too well and it deals with Dr. Smith too. He told Mr. Rivers that I should see a psychiatrist instead of talking to him every morning."

"That is ridiculous!" he laughed. "I wish Dr. Smith would just go back to California."

"I know, right!"

"We need to get rid of him."

"Let's just ignore him for now. He has some stuff against my family that I would like to keep silent."

"Ha, same here," Jordan laughed. "So, how's your friend?"

"I miss her."

"She'll be fine, right? She'll wake up from her coma any day now."

"She's not in a coma."

"Oh that's great; so she woke up?"

"No, she's a vegetable," I whimpered.

"What do you mean?"

"She's brain dead! She won't ever speak again! The only reason she is still alive is because her dad won't let her go."

Jordan rubbed my back, "Shoot, that is beyond scary. I feel so bad...I didn't even know her, but I feel terrible."

"I just want to sleep in bed and throw up."

"Aw, we have to think positive about her."

"Maybe I'm not meant to have friends. First, my dad who was like my best friend, then Mandy, now Karen. Even Mama and I used to be best friends and now I can't stand her."

"I know what you mean—"

"How would you know?"

"I had a brother, but he died in a robbery back when I used to live in Arizona. Back then, we owned a TV store and he was working there. It was actually supposed to be my shift, but I didn't show up because I was being an asshole. That night, he was shot and I blamed myself for years because that should have been me—"

"But, it wasn't your fault."

"Exactly, but that's how I felt. I just couldn't stop blaming myself. So, when I noticed how you were acting after Mandy's death...I could relate to you."

"Is that why you have been trying to be my friend?" I smiled.

"Yeah, I know how you feel"

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Sorry for what?"

"Your loss, but your better now."

"I have my days."

The sound of loud, sloppy footsteps interrupted our conversation. We both looked at who would turn the corner and it was Betsy. I think I speak for both Jordan and I when I said we could read her face immediately—fear and pain.

"Did you get Raymond's text?" she said as she threw her backpack over her shoulder.

"Um, nope," I sighed as I checked my messages. "Where are you going?"

"We have to go to the hospital; Raymond text me for you to check me out." She showed me her text.

I grabbed my things and closed my locker. "I have to go, Jordan."

Jordan grabbed my hand and wrote his phone number on my wrist where the old scars were. "I understand one-hundred percent. Just call me when you need me."

"Thanks," I smiled. "Bye."

"Bye, guys," Jordan said. "Good luck."

The drive to the hospital was silent. I bet we were both thinking about the same thing. I did not want to ask Betsy what she knew, because well, I didn't want to know. But, the time was like bullets rushing through every vein.

I tried to think about happier times, like when I first met Karen or how she would fuss at me when I wouldn't go to class. I didn't know her very long, but I felt like I knew her long enough to feel the way I felt.

When we arrived at the hospital, in that moment, I knew my life forever changed. I was rushed on numerous occasions to the same hospital. The same hospital I would escape from, it was the same hospital where daddy was diagnosed with cancer; it was the same hospital where I identified Mandy's disfigured body. And it would be the same hospital I would last remember Karen.

"Whatever happens, I love you," Betsy whispered to me.

I paused and did not understand why Betsy said she loved me. Why would she love me? I was just a moody teenager who constantly rolled my eyes at her. But, I regretted not saying that word too many times and I thought about if Betsy was the one who was in Karen's shoes. Would I feel bad for her? "I love you too, Betsy," I would cry if that was her too—I did care for her.

"I just hope I won't cry like a baby," she said. "I can't believe it," she hyperventilated.

"It's okay to cry. Karen knows you love her and that's all that matters."

"But, what if she doesn't know it? What if she didn't know? I never told her how I cared for her!"

"Well, unlike me, your actions showed it."

"Oh, there you go blaming yourself again! Karen knows you loved her too. You act like you're such a horrible human being. Well you're not."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah, you're just a grumpy teen that Karen praised."

We both got quiet as we spotted Raymond walking toward us. He had his hand balled up into his stomach as if he were about to puke. We ran over to him and gave him a hug.

"What's going on?" Raymond said.

"You told us to come here," Betsy said.

"Well, I didn't expect you to come by so soon. I still need more time—"

"More time for what?" I said. "You're gonna do it?"

"We have to," Raymond said.

"But, I don't want you to! I love Karen."

"I love her too, but she's gone."

We slowly walked onto the elevator where I last remembered escaping from. I mesmerized the brown painting and the light that flickered. I tried to think about anything except Karen. I even tried to think about Kyle, but nothing worked.

As the elevator stopped on floor six, Betsy began to cry. I tried not to look at her so I walked ahead of them. Although I had yet to visit Karen, I knew she was in room 109. I searched for the room and the first person I saw was Marla in the doorway.

Then, my eyes went to Karen and the first thing I saw were her eyes. They met mine. I did not expect her to be awake.

"What?" I cried as I ran to her bedside. "We can't pull her plug. She's awake!"

"She has no idea what is going on!" Marla said as she dusted off her scrubs. "The doctors know what they're doing."

"But, what if she does!" I cried. "I think she knows what is going on!"

"She doesn't!" Marla shouted. "Karen is gone already."

"Karen knows we are going to kill her!"

Marla shook me to be quiet. "We are not killing her!"

"We can't do it!" I sobbed. "I won't allow this."

"But, we have to and we will," Raymond said.

"But...but...how..."

"Don't worry," Raymond whispered in my ear. "We'll see her soon."

"We'll see her soon, where? In a coffin?" I screamed. "This is why I hate people!" I sobbed. "Because when I let them in my life, they leave me! Just like everyone else in my life."

"I'm sorry, but Karen isn't leaving you. She'll still be with you—"

"Bullshit! Karen is the only person who never judged me. Although I stayed out her business, she stayed in mine. She always worried about me, and cared about my future. She was like the little mom I will never have. I love Karen. I won't let you take her away!"

"I'm sorry," and Marla held me close. "But it's time."

### Chapter 14

### September 9

Eh, I looked horrible in black. Whoever said black goes on everyone lied or maybe I didn't like black because it was the third time I had worn it within four years—the same black dress that hung at the back of my closet. I got it from Forever 21 and it was on sale for twenty bucks. The lace that covered my bust had ripped from a hanger; I still do not know how, but I had ripped—

"Are you okay?" Raymond whispered, interrupting my thoughts.

I sighed and came back to reality as Marla was still giving a speech that I was hoping she would not do. Me and the one-hundred other people did not want her to get up there in such a messy fashion. She had snot sliding down to her lips, she had black makeup all over her face—she was a mess and I understood every reason why.

Everyone who I could imagine was at the funeral. Dr. Summings sat in the back, I wondered if it was for Marla or Karen. Mama didn't show, not that I expected her to. She probably did not even know half the town was here, since she didn't have a TV. I wanted Jordan to come, but he said he hated funerals, so it was best if he just stayed home.

I began to fidget in my seat as Marla paused to cry again. "Do you mind if I speak? This will be a coping technique that a counselor taught me," I said to Raymond. "I promise I won't embarrass anyone."

"I don't think that is such a great idea," he whispered. "Especially, after that whole Mandy memorial."

"I promise I won't do anything selfish."

"No, Cassie."

"Please."

He sighed, "But you better not embarrass my family."

"So, I can?"

"Well, I guess so."

I stood up and walked to the stand, waiting for Marla to finish speaking. I had no idea what I would say, but I just knew I didn't want Karen talking in my head months after she was gone. I had enough of my father and Mandy; there was no more room for other thoughts.

I walked up on the stage and tried not to look down at Karen's open casket. Marla's eyes narrowed as she turned around to step down, watching my movements. I expected her to say something to me, but she walked down and went to her seat.

Everyone was quiet as I stood to the stand. The only sound I could hear were people sobbing and whispering—probably about my motives.

I cleared my throat, "Hello, I'm Cassie. Um, I knew Karen a little while now. She was really a sweet girl, who cared about me a lot. She bugged the hell out of me and that is coming from the happiest part of my heart. I do not know what I will do now that I don't have her. She would use the restroom pass to make sure I wasn't sitting by my locker and doing my makeup," I laughed and everyone else seemed to laugh with me. "I just want to say, Karen was an amazing girl and I love her..." I paused and thought about what Mr. Rivers told me to do with Mandy. "I love you, Karen and you were an amazing friend. I know you loved me, because you wouldn't have wasted your time on me. I will miss hearing you gossip about boys and pressuring me to have a makeover. That's all I have to say." I stepped down off the stage and everyone clapped. For once, everyone was on my side.

The service went on for two more hours. It was not until we buried her at Simon Cemetery when I realized she was really gone forever. Seeing her go lower and lower into the ground just brought back every memory I didn't cherish with her. If everything happened for a reason, I didn't quite understand why she had to die to get a point across— _was it because of me?_

I forced myself to attend the after service that Raymond and Marla held, where they served food and drinks to everyone. I really could not avoid it, since I lived there. The point of the service was to talk and be happy again as if a little teen did not just die.

I walked into the kitchen where I caught Marla and Dr. Summings off guard. "Hello, Dr. Summings."

"Cassidy, that was a very nice speech you gave," he said as more people entered the kitchen behind me to get more drinks.

"I was a little sketchy at first when you approached the stage. I thought you were going to bash my baby," Marla said as she sipped wine. "But, it was a lovely speech."

Dr. Summings pulled a woman close to him. "This is my wife, Cherry."

My eyes grew large and I smiled awkwardly, "Oh, I didn't know you were married," I lied. "Nice to meet you."

"Ha, you're funny," Cherry said as she kissed him.

"You don't see her much because she's a flight attendant," Marla added as her eyes narrowed.

"Oh, really," I said. "That's interesting."

"I've heard so much about you," Cherry said.

"Hopefully good stuff!" I joked and sipped some water.

"Oh, yeah," she lied.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. I haven't seen you in a while," Dr. Summings said. "Is that a good thing?"

"Oh, you'll be seeing plenty of me when I start seeing Martha Conan for psychiatry."

"Oh, no, but she is in the other building. I kind of miss seeing you. Oh, I'm joking. I'm glad you're not in my office for an overdose."

"Okay, I have to go find Raymond. It was nice meeting you, Cherry. I mean, you have no idea...it was really nice meeting you."

I walked away searching for Raymond throughout his overcrowded home. I spotted him at the table where everyone was comforting him with attention I know he hated. One woman ran her fingers through his hair and another stroked his back. I felt bad as they all smothered him with useless attention—

Dr. Smith tapped on my shoulders and I turned around in fright. He was one of the last people I wanted to see on a day like this.

He leaned in with his huge arms to hug me. "I'm sorry, Cassidy."

"Dr. Smith?" I said as he held me tight.

"I know this is hard for you. First, Mandy and your father now this...you must be on the verge of just ending it all right now. I couldn't imagine being as depressed as you—"

I pushed him away, shutting him up. "Please stop talking. I know I'm supposed to obey you at school, but you're in my territory and I just want you to stop talking."

"Is this about Mr. Rivers?"

"Maybe, but now I just don't want to think about it. I'm going through a lot."

"So, you will speak to Martha Conan within this coming week?"

"Like I just said, I don't want to talk about it."

"And Cassidy, I will totally understand if you don't come to school for a week. I understand your situation."

I gave Dr. Smith a fake smile and walked away from him. I kept my eyes on Raymond who was in tears again. I could not stand seeing him like that, nor did I want people to see me sobbing, so I ran out to the pool house.

The more further I got away from the main house, the quieter and more peaceful I felt. The pouring rain, made everything seem all right, as if everything were going to be okay. Maybe that was a sign that Karen was okay too.

When I was little Mama used to tell me the rain represented the clearing of everyone's pain. She would say that when it rains, it was everyone's fresh start. It was a sign from whoever we all believe in that it was okay to start over—it's okay to make mistakes.

When I went into the pool house, I took off my heels that were five inches too high and threw them into a suitcase. I figured since Karen passed, her parents didn't need to deal with me anymore. The only place I could think of going to was back home with Mama.

As I laid my head onto my pillow, glitter flew everywhere. I began to shake my head vigorously as it went into my nose and eyes. "Hmm," I said as I lifted the envelope up. I smiled from ear to ear as I realized it was the note Karen had been trying to get me to read.

I tore open the letter with my teeth and glitter slid into my mouth. With my heart racing, I yanked out the letter and immediately began to read it:

Cassie, Cassidy, the cool girl, whatever:

I am writing you this note and I know you're gonna say, 'ew you're so middle school', but I have to tell you this. And I'm telling you because I can't tell Betsy or anyone else from the dance team because they have big mouths and they won't understand. Anyway, it's about my dad.

A year ago my mom's sister, my auntie, Mary-Ann used to live with us. That was until my dad became so attached to her and obsessed with her. The reason why she stayed with us was that she had a bad eating disorder. My dad is what you call a DEPRESSED, OBSESSED LOSER. You might be confused on why I'm telling you this, but I think my dad is becoming the same around you. I don't want to believe it, but I see everything that happened with my auntie that is happening with you. First, he's going to tell you about his problems with my mom. Next, he is going to make you move in with him. Then, he will drag you away from your friends and family. Two years ago, my dad went crazy and threatened to kill my mom and me if she ever left him for Dr. Summings. Yes, I know about him. And last summer, while in Hawaii, my dad threaten to shoot his brains out when he caught my mom in bed with another guy.

I'm telling you this because I don't want you to stay with us anymore. I'm not saying it as a bully; I'm saying it to protect you. The reason I can't tell you face to face is because someone might hear and my reputation would be down the drain. I'm telling you to leave before he gets emotionally attached to you—like with my auntie. It got so bad with her, that she has a restraining order against my dad and I can't see her anymore. I don't ever want that to happen to you! My dad has some mega issues and he takes depressed girls like him down with them. Text me after you get this letter.

See you at the locker tomorrow, Karen. And please don't bring this up around Betsy. Oh yeah, I borrowed your black ripped shirt to wear with my leggings. Love you, night.

I folded the note up and put it back into the ripped envelope. I began to panic as I heard a knock on my door. Thinking it was Raymond, I stuffed the letter into my handbag and walked over to the door to answer it.

"Jordan?" I beamed. "What are you doing here?"

Jordan shook his wet hair and handed me a plastic bag full of junk food. "Since I didn't go to the funeral, I thought I would come by to see if you're okay."

"But, how'd you know I was back here? Well, how'd you know everyone was here?"

"My parents are here and Betsy told me you stay back here," he said as he sat in a chair at my desk. "This is a really nice home."

I paused, thinking about who his parents could be, but then drifted back to him. "I'm glad you came by. I am so over this funeral."

"So, you didn't do anything crazy did you?" he laughed. "I'm joking...I know you didn't do anything crazy."

"No, surprisingly I did not embarrass myself or Karen." As if it was my time of the month, I began to sob by just saying her name. "I can't believe she is really gone."

Jordan jumped out the chair and walked over to me. He wrapped me in his arms, "I understand. You are not going to get better in one day. It will take years to finally speak joy about her. And that goes for all your losses."

"You always have something good to say," I cried. "It's like you study these things."

"I try, but I think I came at the wrong time. Maybe I should leave and I'll see you—"

"No, stay with me," I pouted. "You see that box over there." I pointed to an old rusty box on my desk.

"Um, yes."

"Well, it's full of blades. And it's so beautiful right now. If you leave me, I don't know what I will do!"

Jordan kissed my forehead. "Don't worry, I won't leave you. And look," he pulled out a pack of gum.

"It's gum..."

"I'm quitting."

"You quit smoking?"

"Eh, it was a nasty habit."

"You just made me feel a lot more better now."

"That's what I'm here for."

I usually hated being in the presence of people when I cried. Even if I was crying from laughter, which was rare, I didn't want people looking at me. However, I wanted Jordan to stay with me. If he could handle me "talking" to a dead best friend, he could handle me in grief.

"You know what I think about a lot?" Jordan said. "Like I probably think about it every time I'm at school."

"What is it?" I said as I blew my nose.

"How sporks are made..."

"Sporks?"

"Yeah, you know, the forks and spoon put together."

"Well, that's a random thought," I laughed. "Who just thinks about that?"

"I do and now you're gonna think about it too."

"Why?"

"Because, it keeps your mind off _other_ things."

I giggled, "Tell me more about these sporks..."

Chapter 15

### September 16

It was my eighteenth birthday and it was lonely like usual. I could not stop thinking about what Karen was doing wherever she was. I never knew how much I needed her. I never knew how much she affected my life.

No one thinks about that type of stuff until someone they know is dead. That is when people bring the flowers and write all the songs about the person. All that stuff should happen when the person was alive, not six-feet under. And then they wonder why they're so damn depressed. I should take my own advice.

As I got dressed, I spotted Raymond coming toward the pool house with something in his hands. I could not see him clearly due to the mini-storm outside, so I ran into my closet to find clothes.

I hurried and threw on some leggings and a long one-shoulder shirt before he walked in. "Hey, Raymond!" I said as I heard him come inside—he never knocked.

"Happy birthday," Raymond handed me a cupcake with a candle on it. "I'm sorry I didn't knock. You probably wouldn't be able to hear it with all the rain and thunder outside."

"Oh, I could see you coming," I said. "This is cute."

"Make a wish!"

"But I'm too old," I teased.

"Pretty please," he laughed. "Just make a wish."

"Fine." I did not make a wish, although I acted as if I did.

"What did you wish for?"

"Nothing special."

"Hmm." I watched Raymond turn from joy to confusion as he looked around the pool house and saw my things packed. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Why are all your things packed?"

"Um, I thought it was best if I moved out since Karen you know..."

"That's a bad idea."

I blanked out as I remembered Karen's note. If this was anyone else telling me to leave, I probably would not have listened, but it was Karen. It was her father so she knew best, plus I didn't want her stalking me within my head. I also did not want to do something regrettable by staying.

"Cassidy, if you leave, what will I do without you?" Raymond said. "We are like best friends. I thought you were my friend. Please stay with me."

I stumbled to my bed and put my head down, not wanting to look at him. "That's not a good idea," I muttered. "That's actually a horrible idea."

"Why is it so bad if you stay?" he said.

"It's a long story."

In tears, Raymond threw the cupcake into the trashcan. "Please, we should grieve together. No one should have to go through this alone."

I sighed and walked over to him. "Okay, I'll stay, just for a few more days until I figure out where I'm going. And I'm only staying because I know it's hard for you right now."

"That's good then. You had me panicking for a minute," he smiled.

"Well, I'm going out tonight," I said. "For my birthday."

"Really? But it's all rainy outside."

"Yup," I whispered as I fixed my hair. "It's just like a movie and a dinner—nothing outside."

"With who?"

"This person," I said.

"A new girlfriend?"

"Uh, not exactly."

"I thought we were gonna crash tonight and watch a scary movie."

"We will do that later."

"But..."

"Later..."

"Oh, well...um have fun."

It had only been two weeks since Karen passed away and I understood why Raymond was so needy. Not only that, but Marla had not been back home since the funeral. She moved out to be with her lover. I do not know how it worked out since her apparent lover was married. And Betsy had a new boyfriend, so we rarely saw her anymore. We made sure he didn't have a car—but I think he did anyway.

"How about I call the person who I was gonna hang out with to come over here," I said.

"Oh, no that's silly. Go have fun. You don't want to hang out with an old dad," he said.

"But, you're not a dad..." _GRRRRR why did I say that?_ I watched Raymond's throat swell up and I ran to hung him. "I swear I say the wrong things at the wrong time."

"It's okay," he sobbed. "I should be used to it by now."

"I'll go call the person right now," I said as I threw my boots off. "I'll stay here."

I hurried and called Jordan on the phone. He didn't answer so like the teens of today's generation I sent him a text instead of leaving a voicemail. I was sort of afraid to invite Jordan over ever since reading that note Karen left me; I never thought of Raymond the same. I did not want him to flip out on me and shoot us.

Also, little did Raymond know, Jordan had been over every night since September ninth. If Raymond had known that, man oh man would he have been pissed. I could not imagine what Raymond would have done to Jordan or me.

An hour later, the doorbell rang and I could hear it from the pool house. I hurried and put on my rain boots, grabbed my umbrella, and ran to the front house. Jordan had text me back saying he would be over in two hours, but I learned he was always sixty minutes off for everything.

"I'll get the door!" I shouted as I ran through the kitchen. "It's just...my friend."

As I opened the door, Jordan looked gorgeous as always as he smiled ear to ear. His leather jacket was all wet and his boots squeaked as he entered the house. I brushed off his hair that had leaves in it and he kissed me on the lips.

"Did you walk here?" I joked as I gave him a big hug. "Or did you get stuck in a hurricane?"

"Nah, I rode my motorcycle," he said as he kissed my cheek. "Happy birthday!"

I blushed as he handed me flowers. "Thank you," I said as I pulled him to the living room.

Both of their eyes got large from god knows what, as they looked at each other. Raymond looked furious as Jordan approached the den. A face I had never seen on him before. And Jordan looked lost and naive—he had no idea what he was getting into.

"A boy?" was all Raymond could get out.

"I think I am," Jordan laughed.

"Raymond this is Jordan. Jordan this is Raymond," I greeted.

"How do you do?" Jordan said politely. "Is he your cousin?"

"Uh..." I should have explained to Jordan over the phone why we would stay home. That would have made sense. However, everything in my life was complicated.

I put the flowers in the sink. "Nope this is—"

"I'm Karen's father," he answered for me.

"Really? You look so young," Jordan said.

"Thanks. You look pretty familiar," Raymond said.

"Yes, I'm terribly sorry for your loss," he said.

Raymond rolled his eyes and sat on the couch. Like a big baby, he stretched his body across the couch, taking all the space.

I walked to the television stand and dug around the DVDs. "Which movie do you guys want to watch? The Hills Have Eyes...or—"

"Why watch a movie? Let's talk," Raymond said, cutting me off.

"But, you said you wanted to watch a movie," I said. "That's the reason why we decided to stay home—"

"So how old are you?" Raymond asked Jordan, ignoring me.

"I'm eighteen."

"Do you have both parents?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do."

"What do they do? They must have steady hard working jobs if they let a boy like you ride a motorcycle. Let me guess you smoke too?"

Jordan smiled. "If I wasn't mistaken sir, I would think you're Cassie's father—"

"Ha!" Raymond shouted. "So, what's your dad's job?"

"My dad is a doctor—"

"What's your mom's job?" Raymond said.

"She's a flight attendant."

"Oh my gosh!" I gasped as I realized who Jordan's family was. I tried to think back to everything and how I didn't know—

"Your papa doesn't happen to be Dr. Summings?" Raymond questioned.

"Um...yeah?" Jordan said.

"Wait, how is your dad Dr. Summings if your last name is McNeal?" I snapped in shock.

"Um, I have my mother's last name," he said. "I told you my dad was a doctor—"

"You said he was a children doctor!" I said.

"He is!"

"But he has taken care of me several times..."

"Um, yeah you just turned eighteen. I mean he works with children and teens. I didn't know I had to be so specific."

"And you didn't tell me your mother was a flight attendant."

"I did to!"

"You said she works on planes."

"Well, yeah she does."

"I thought you meant like she builds them or something crazy!"

"So, your father is Dr. Summings?" Raymond jumped off the couch and shoved Jordan. "Get out of my house!"

"What, why?" Jordan asked confused. "What is your problem?"

"Your daddy is with my wife!"

"Shoot, that's your wife?" Jordan laughed. "Who hasn't been with her?"

"Get out!"

"Oh my gosh!" I cried. "Please, what did Jordan do to you?"

"I hate you and your Summings/McNeal family!" Raymond shouted. "I hate you!"

"I hate them too," Jordan said. "I hate my dad as much as you do. I hate how he cheats on my mom. I hate that he is with your wife. And I'm sorry."

Raymond crossed his arms like a toddler. "Just leave!"

I pulled Jordan next to me as he walked to the front door. "Go around to the pool house. I'll meet you there," I whispered.

"Okay," he snapped.

"The gate is open and don't fall into the pool," I said as I shut the door. I turned slowly to face Raymond's pissed off face.

"Were you trying to be funny?" Raymond asked me. "Who is he, your boyfriend?"

"No, he's not my boyfriend," I snapped. "Why would you care?"

"You're such a... _something_. I knew you were seeing someone when I had went to the shed and heard voices from the pool house—"

"Voices? What kind of sounds."

"I don't know, but you're so annoying! You hate when people sugarcoat, but you do it all the time!" he shouted at me. " _Oh, I have no friends. Karen isn't my friend we just talk. Jordan isn't my boyfriend, he's a person_ ," he imitated my voice. "You're the biggest sugar-coater there is!"

"How dare you," I paused, "don't try to take your anger out on me!"

"What anger?"

"You're jealous of Jordan. You're jealous because I'm still young and I can do young things."

"I'm not jealous of Jordan. He looks like he could be my dad!" he laughed. "Jordan's wishes he could be me. Watch, in a few years that bad boy persona he has going on will fail him and he'll end up in jail."

"He isn't a bad boy. He comes off that way, but he isn't."

"That doesn't even make sense," Raymond shouted. "Why did you lie to me?"

"When did I lie to you?"

"You never told me about Jordan."

"We never brought him up. Did you want me to tell you about him at Karen's deathbed or maybe at the funeral?"

"Whatever!"

"I swear you're just so annoying and bipolar! No wonder Marla left you."

"Funny, me bipolar. I'm not the one who is in and out the hospital because I can't decide if I want to live or not."

"You're such a little bitch sometimes. I would leave you too!" I shouted. "Just stop trying to control me!"

Raymond grabbed my face and tried to stick his tongue down my throat. I shoved him away and he collapsed to the hardwood floor. "Ew, what are you doing?" I screamed and began to spit.

"Cassie, I...I..."

I wiped my lips, and stared at Raymond. "You have issues."

Before he could speak, I ran off to the pool house without putting my raincoat on. I busted through the doors as everyone always does and sat on the couch in tears. I couldn't understand why Raymond chose me to obsess over. Why couldn't he pick Betsy, I'm sure she had mental issues too. That would be pretty sick since she was about fifteen—but better her than me.

"Cassie?" Jordan said as he spun around in my chair.

"Huh!" I jumped up as Jordan startled me. "What are you doing here?"

"You told me to come here!" he snapped.

"Oh yeah," I said out of breath.

Jordan sat next to me on the couch and ran his hands through my hair. I turned my face toward his and we began to kiss for the millionth time. This time I didn't feel his connection, maybe because Raymond had just swapped spit with me.

"I have to study," I said, pushing him away.

"Study?" he gasped and then laughed.

"Yeah, I have a math thing."

"Oh yeah, a _math thing_. You never go to class."

"I have a test!" I said. "So, I need to study. This is very important. I don't think you understand we are now seniors in high school and we treat it like a game."

"Okay, okay, you want me to help you study? I'm excellent at math," he said as he kissed my neck.

I pushed him away and sat on my bed. "Nope, I can do it myself."

"Okay, I should leave," he said.

"Yeah, you should. I'll see you at school on Monday."

"If you want I can drive you on my motorcycle," he winked.

"Bummer, I have to take Betsy with me," I said.

"Let her boyfriend take her."

"He doesn't have a car."

"Suuree."

"He has a car?"

"Don't be such a ... _mom_."

"Okay then, maybe but call me before hand," I said.

"What is wrong with you? We can still go catch the movie. Is it because of Karen's dad?" he teased. "I'm seriously over it."

"His name is Raymond and no it's not because of him. It's just—"

"What?"

"I want to tell you everything and I feel like I do, but I still have things I want to tell you," I muttered. "There is so much about me you probably don't even know."

Jordan climbed onto my bed and stared at me. "Like what do you have to tell me?"

"Do you remember when I worked at the bowling center?" I whispered. "In the summer?"

"Of course, I spent my whole summer there with the guys."

"Well, I was pregnant back then with Mark's baby," I said. "And I thought you should know."

"Where is the baby then?"

"I lost the baby."

"How come you didn't find him?"

"No, I mean the baby died. I miscarried."

"Hmm...I didn't know you dated skinny boy Mark."

"We didn't...it's a long drunk story..."

"I wanna know," he smiled. "In full detail."

"No! I don't want to talk about it."

"Then, why did you bring it up?"

"I just thought you should know."

"Thanks for telling me," he said. "So, about that math."

"I was kidding about that math, but you can stay," I said. "Do you have any secrets you want to tell me?"

"Hmm, none I can think about."

"Seriously?"

"Believe it or not, but I have a really boring life. Your life is more entertaining than mine."

"I don't believe it."

I hated the fact that Karen possibly knew the things I was doing. She would probably be more interested in Jordan and me. She would freak if she knew about her dad and me. I could imagine her gagging that her father attacked me for a kiss.

I'm sure she is waiting for me to talk about it—she built a locker with a personal mirror and makeup kit just for us.

Chapter 16

### September 24

I entered Simon hospital to have my first meeting with Martha Conan. She was supposed to be the best of the best when it came to psychiatry. I wondered how she got that label; I hoped it was from all good and not lies.

I remembered back when I was sixteen, Mama and I went to a psychiatrist for our fighting. She was atrocious and way too expensive. We felt as though we were paying her to tell us stuff we already knew. Did I mention it was expensive?

"Cassidy? Cassidy White?" said who I assumed was Martha Conan.

"Um, hello Mrs. Conan," I said, confused on where to go.

"Call me Martha. I like to build good relationships with my clients," she said. "I'm Martha."

Martha was every bit of annoying and everything I imagined. She was about five foot nine and not in a feminine way. She had big muscles as if she was a weekend weight lifter and her voice was so loud as if she were shouting. The only thing nice she had on her was probably her long black hair and dark brown eyes.

"So, why are you here?" she said as she sat me on a couch. "Drugs? Partying?"

"Um...no..."

"Uh, alcohol addiction?"

"Well, I don't really know why I'm here. I don't know if I'm here for self-harming or my depression."

"Oh, it doesn't really matter. The longer I keep you here, the more I get paid," she laughed.

"Um..."

"So..."

"Well, when I was with Mr. Rivers who was my counselor he gave me some good advice about voices in my head."

"Oh, so you hear voices?"

"Not really anymore, but he helped me get better by giving me a technique where I tell the person who is bugging me all the things I wished I told them when I was alive. So, with my best friend I went to her grave and talked to her. It was the best experience ever—"

"That sounds utterly insane! Whoa, you're crazier than I thought! I'm going to have to put you on a lot of medication!"

"Um, you're not supposed to tell me that."

"Can we speed this along, my daughter is sick and I need to pick her up from school."

"No, I guess that's it," I said in a saddened tone.

"Okay, so here are your meds to get and I will see you next week."

"Actually, I won't be coming back. I think I'm fine," I said while handing her back the prescription paper. "I thought you would be different."

"I'm a hell lot better than that Mr. Rivers guy."

"No you're not."

I went back to Karen Raymond's home, which seemed quicker than usual. I could say I hated Martha because I experienced her. I was not like those other depressed teens who said they hated everything when they never tried it.

When I pulled into the garage, I dialed Mr. River's number, hoping he would answer. And as expected, he did not.

As I parked, Raymond came into the garage. "The home is so lonely now!"

I hung up the phone and rolled down the car window. "Yeah, I know." _Cassie, please just go home_. "Dad?"

"Did you just call me dad?" Raymond said.

"Oh, no..."

"Let me guess...it's the voices."

"Uh, sorry."

"What is he saying?"

I don't know—my phone ringing cut me off—it was Mr. Rivers calling me back. "I have to answer this."

"Come talk to me when you're done," Raymond said and went back into the house.

I rolled my window back up. "Hello?" I answered. "Mr. Rivers?"

"Hey Cassidy! You called me?"

"Oh gosh, I went to Martha today."

"How was she?"

"She was terrible! She kept on saying I was crazy and your bright idea she said it was utterly insane."

"Ha, I had another student tell me the same thing. Dr. Smith only likes her because she drugs students like you up. He likes when you are silent."

"You said another student said the same thing? Who else at Simon high is like me?" I laughed. "I thought I was one of a kind."

"That's confidential."

"Are you gonna still help me?" I sighed.

"With what now?"

"My dad—should I do the same thing like with Mandy?"

"Um, well it depends. What does he say?"

"He keeps telling me like to go home or don't do that. He sometimes contradicts himself. What is he trying to tell me?"

"I wouldn't know, but you should listen to him. Maybe he's trying to remind you of something or tell you something."

I paused and I knew exactly what my dad was trying to tell me. "Thanks Mr. Rivers. I know exactly what he is trying to tell me!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, thanks bye!" I said and hung up. I closed my eyes, and thought about my best friend—not Mandy but my shiny sharp best friend who was just an arm away. Without second thinking, I opened my glove department and pulled out the rusty old box.

I stared at it, thinking about Jordan. We never discussed my cutting much and I knew he would be hurt if I did do it again, but he didn't understand. I don't think anyone understood. Before I knew it, the blade was touching my warm skin. It hurt more than usual as I let the blade slide across my wrist in slow motion.

"Cassie?" Raymond shouted from inside. "Are you okay?"

I jumped and shoved the blade back into my glove department. "Yeah, I'll come in now." I wrapped my wrist like usual and got out the car in pain and pleasure.

As soon as I walked into the kitchen, Raymond said, "You should move in."

"Me?" I asked in shock. "Um, that's not a good idea."

"No, I insist."

"But, there is no room."

"Well, now that Karen's room is all cleaned out..."

"You want me to move into Karen's old room? That's kind of spooky," I said as I sat next to him at the table. "And plus, I might be going back home soon."

"Why would you go back home?" he snapped. "That is stupid."

Nervous on where the conversation would lead, I rocked in my seat. "It's not a stupid idea."

"No, just stop joking and move in with me."

"I think your idea is really stupid," I whined, "and what about Betsy?"

Raymond walked over to me and put his hands on my shoulder. "Didn't I tell you what happened?"

I gently shoved him away and stood up, ready to leave. "Tell me what?"

"How Betsy's aunt is taking her in?"

"Nope, you didn't tell me."

"Well yeah, she is moving out within the next few weeks."

"Everything is happening way too fast. I don't know what to say—"

"I think it's good that Betsy can be around her real family."

"Well, it is good. Betsy reminded me too much of Karen at times," I coughed. "Plus, I think she will be happier."

Raymond smiled and bit into his bagel. "So, just move in with me, until you get settled with your mother."

I crumbled up a napkin, thinking of appropriate words to say, but nothing came to mind. I sighed and walked into the living room, ignoring him.

"Cassidy, don't walk away from me," he snapped and ran after me. "I insist, you can stay here."

"If it's okay with you, but I'm not moving into Karen's old room. I'll take Betsy's room for a few days."

"Okay, then, let's get settled."

"But, I have to go right now. I'm having lunch with an old friend of mine."

While holding my breath, I walked back out to the garage. I sat in my car for a few minutes, thinking about the insanity Raymond was putting me through. I should not have to go through so much drama when I was grieving.

When I finally calmed down, I drove to the mall where I would be meeting Rebecca for lunch. She had been gone longer than expected, missing out on all the drama that happened in our small town.

With squinted eyes, I entered the café searching for Rebecca's tall frame. "Rebecca!" I shouted as I saw her sitting down next to a window.

"Cassie!" she screeched and kissed my cheek. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, love!" I said.

"Let's eat and talk!" she beamed and pulled me to sit across from her. "So, how is life treating you now?"

"I hate my life!" I whined. "You could have told me you'd be gone longer than a month; I really needed you." I held Rebecca's hands not wanting to let her go.

"You could have called," she said as she slurped her milkshake. "I know a lot has happened to you, but I heard Mr. Rivers is helping you. That should be a plus, since he is gorgeous!"

"Eh, I know, but Dr. Smith doesn't like that whole situation. I don't even know why."

"And I heard about your friend."

"I still cannot believe Karen is gone. The funeral was beautiful by the way."

"Where did they have it?"

"Out here. I wasn't going to go. I don't like death—"

"You could have fooled me!" she laughed. "As many times as you wanted to visit him."

I sighed and changed the subject. "I think I'm in love."

"You? Love?" she spit. "With Karen? I knew it!"

"No!" I smacked her arm. "I'm not a lesbian... _you think I like girls?_ "

"I don't know what you like, Cassie... _hell!_ You could like dogs and I wouldn't be shocked!"

"Oh my god, you're so silly," I laughed. "But, I'm serious."

"With who, then?" she burped. "Excuse me, but I didn't even know you knew anyone to fall in love with."

"How'd you know you were in love with Jon?" I said as I drank my coffee.

"Oh, it was the first date," she beamed. "He picked me up and carried me into Burger King. We were like your age."

"So, it was your first date when you knew you would marry him?"

"Nope."

"I don't get it."

"Back to you being in love. I knew there was something different about you. I haven't seen you smile in forever. So, who is the lucky man making you beam?"

"Well, this is where I'm in trouble," I whispered.

"What?" she gasped and leaned closer. "You're pregnant again?"

"No! Oh my god, do I look pregnant?" I lifted my shirt exposing my bare stomach.

She pulled down my shirt and looked around to see if anyone was staring. "No, silly! I was just kidding."

I sighed and put my head down on the table.

"Then what is wrong?" she said. "Tell me now!"

"There are two men!" I said quickly.

" _Men?_ "

"You didn't hear the part where I said two, did you?"

"Well, well, well..." she laughed. "Who?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Oh, Cassie! How the hell do you tell me half the story? You brought it up, so you might as well tell me!"

"But, you can't judge me."

"I won't," she said and held out her pinkie. "Spill it, Honey C!"

"Well, the first guy is Jordan McNeal—"

"The Jordan McNeal? I taught him last year in advance calculus. He's gorgeous!" she cheered. "You must talk to him!"

"I do talk to him...I think he's my boyfriend."

"What?" she gasped. "What do you mean you think?"

"We've been on about two dates and he's always over at my place."

"Oh my god! I've been gone for a quick second and you're practically married!"

"I'm not married," I giggled. "I think I like him now."

"Then, what's the problem?"

"The other man!"

"Who is it? Please don't say it's that idiot Kyle—"

"Karen's dad," I muttered.

"Ew!" she pushed me away. "Isn't he like fifty?"

"Nope, he's twenty-eight and he's gorgeous too!" I cried. "I don't know what to do because he's a total nut job."

"Wait, let me get this straight. Don't you live with her dad?"

"Yes."

"But, Jordan is your boyfriend?"

"Yup."

"Then what?"

"Me and Karen's dad have a connection. He loves me too. I know it."

"How would you know?"

"He's kissed me already, he's so nice, and he always wants alone time with me."

Rebecca began to eat her popcorn as if she were watching a movie. "Isn't he married?"

"Yeah, but his wife left him for another man. She is having Jordan's dad's baby!"

"Holy shit!" she spit. "This is better than a soap opera!"

"I know," I whined. "What should I do?"

"Firstly, I have to see what Karen's dad looks like. Then—"

"I'm sure you've seen him around. He's sort of tall and has shoulder length brown hair—"

"Hmm, I think I know who he is. I saw his picture in the newspaper not too long ago."

"I am scared to be alone with him now. He's like this psycho wreck since his wife left, Karen died, Betsy is gone now, and I'm with Jordan."

"Doesn't he have friends? Or other family?"

"I don't think so," I said. "Everything is so complicated."

Rebecca smirked and kicked my foot. "I think this is a good thing though."

"Why?"

"It keeps your mind off of other things—"

"Like what?"

"I don't know... _suicide_. You have not been to the hospital in a while. That's improvement."

"I would much rather go back to my old messed up life than be with this new dysfunctional life."

"No you don't."

"I do."

"Then, what's stopping you?"

I pulled up my sleeve and unwrapped my wrist. "I've cheated; I've obviously haven't changed."

Rebecca traced her cold fingers over my new scar. "Oh my god. You need to get help for this."

"I know, but no one in this town understands much about people like me. They just label me as a nutcase and prescribe me medication."

She sighed and let go of my hand. "I want to get you help. What does Valeria think about this?"

"I haven't spoken to Mama in a long time. She calls me but I never pick up. I need to call her and go back home before Raymond goes loco on me. I cannot stay with him."

"You can't stand Valeria. You will not go back. I wouldn't allow you to go back home with her abusive ass."

"I know but I have to. This is part of my assignment."

"What assignment?"

"Well, it's a coping technique to get daddy out of my head. He keeps telling me to go home. So, I need to see why, so he can leave me alone."

"Do you think it's that inheritance money he left you for when you turn eighteen?" she winked.

"You're right. I had forgotten about that money until earlier today," I murmured. "That's the only thing I can think of. Unless he wants me to go home to tell him I love him or something insane."

"No, I'm pretty sure it's the money."

When my dad passed away he left half a million dollars for me. The only thing that was stopping me from getting it was that I was a minor. Before he had died, he told me one important thing; to not give any of the money to Mama.

"Mama would hate me, if I got that money," I said. "She struggles every day to pay bills—mostly bills I left and dad left."

"It's her fault."

"Don't say that in public," I whispered.

"Well, it's true. We know the truth," she whispered. "Do what you want. But, I will call you the biggest idiot if you don't get that money."

"Ooh I love you, Becca! I'm going to go talk to Mama as soon as I can!"

When I went back to Raymond's place, I noticed he had moved a lot of my things already to Betsy's old room. I tensed up over the fact that I hated people touching my stuff and tried to ignore him.

"Do you want to watch a movie tonight?" Raymond asked as I packed my things in the pool house.

"Uh, well, I can't...I'm going to leave," I said.

"But why?"

Honestly, I did not want to be with Raymond. He made everything awkward. I felt like it was my duty to make him happy. I was not married to him, but I felt like it. He also made me feel uncomfortable. He reminded me of Mandy's old neighbor who would always ask her to pick the apples off his tree. Then, he would ask her to clean his stove and do all this housework. Naive as she was, Mandy always fell for his tricks. It was probably one of the grossest things ever.

"Your mom called again," Raymond said, bringing me back to reality.

I paused in the doorway with the boxes in my hands. "What did she want?"

"To see how you were doing. You should call her back."

"Well, I have to talk to her anyway."

"Okay, call her then," Raymond laughed. "Do you have something you want to talk about?"

I dropped the boxes and sat back on the couch. "I just hate her! I hate Mama."

"That's a strong word," he said as he walked next to me. "You should calm down."

"She killed my daddy, and she got away with it," I sobbed. "And because of her, this is all I do now—is cry."

Raymond perked up and sat next to me. He loved hearing people's problems when they were more terrible than his were. "What do you mean?"

"She poisoned him. I know she did. I saw her do it!" I cried. "She is an evil woman."

"Why would she do that?" Raymond said.

"Because she didn't want to pay for his medical bills anymore. He had cancer, and he was in and out of the hospital. One day, she slipped some poison into his drink and he died in his chair. They didn't do an autopsy on him and assumed he died from cancer."

Raymond put his arm around me, and began to whisper. "How do you know it was poison?"

"I saw it! My old teacher Rebecca was there too. She saw it as well."

He sighed. "I have no idea what to say."

"My dad died in our home; he was murdered in our home! I cannot go back there. That's why I spent my life in my room and at school."

"Then, stay here, what is so bad about staying here with me?"

I formed a nervous smiled and pushed his arm from around me. "My dad left half a million dollars for me, for when I would turn eighteen. He knew Mama was going to do something to him because he told me not to give her any money. That is the reason why he keeps bugging me. He wants me to get my cash and leave."

"If he had that money, why couldn't he pay for his medical bills?"

"Long story short, it was inheritance money for me from my dad's father. My grandfather told him he would get the first half of his money when he was eighteen and when he marries the rest would go to a wife or child. Unfortunately, my dad spent all his inheritance money before he turned twenty-one. So, we planned to use the money I was getting at eighteen to buy a home. He obviously trusted me more."

"Huh?"

"Put it this way, since my grandpa is dead my dad was in charge of where the remaining money would go to. It was my dad's choice on whether he wanted my mom to have the money or me. And he chose me."

"He didn't leave her anything?"

"Nope, just a dollar."

"You're eighteen now, so get the money."

"That's what Rebecca told me but Mama will do anything for me not to get the cash. I don't want drama between me and her."

"Who cares? It's your money."

"You're right!"

"I know," he said as he rubbed my back. "I'm always right. Just get the money and come back home to me."

I frowned.
Chapter 17

### September 25

I opened the front door and the beam of the sun blinded me. I narrowed my eyes and realized Marla was at the front door with her suitcase behind her back. She had puffy bags under her eyes as if she were crying all night. Her hair was wavy and knotted as well—she was a mess.

"Where's Raymond?" she demanded and pushed me out the doorway. "I need to speak to him."

"He's upstairs and don't push me!" I said as I slammed the door shut.

"Oh, who are you? His _girlfriend_?" she shoved me. "You don't know a damn thing."

"I said don't push me!" I shoved Marla in the back.

"Grr—"

"What are you doing here, Marla?" Raymond said as he walked down the stairs.

"I know what you told Tim's wife!" she screamed. "Get over the fact that Tim Summings is my new man. If you keep threatening him, I will tell the police to arrest you again!"

"He doesn't love you like I do!" Raymond cried. "I will do anything to get you back."

"Get over it," she laughed, "I don't love you anymore."

"What did you tell Tim's wife?" I said.

"None of your business! Why don't you leave?" Raymond snapped and it was the first time it ever happened.

"You know what, I'll leave then. I have school anyway!" I said and left out the house.

As I waited for Jordan to come with his motorcycle, I could not stop thinking about how Raymond was mad at me. As if, I did something to him. All I did was deal with all his emotional crap. He should have been praising me.

I ran back into the house where Raymond was crying in Marla's arms to get a snack. It was pathetic. I had never seen a man cry so much in my life. He had some real mental issues, far off from mine.

As I put an apple in my bag, my phone rang—"Hello?"

"Where are you at?" Jordan asked. "I'm in the back."

"I switched rooms remember. I'll come out now."

"Sorry, I'm late. My mom came home early and my parents were fighting—"

"Did she see Marla?" I asked as I packed my bag with pens from the table.

"Yes, it was horrible. The worst part is she doesn't even know Marla is pregnant."

"Oh, you know about her pregnancy?" I muttered.

"Obviously. Yeah, what are you doing? Come down, we are gonna be late for school!"

"We are not going to school."

"Why not, it's Monday?"

"Because I'm going to visit my mom," I said.

"Why?"

"I'm demanding my money."

"Hmm, okay...come outside so you can explain."

I hurried out the door, ignoring Marla and Raymond. I slammed it forcefully, meaning I was mad. I searched for Jordan through the fog. I couldn't see him, but I could hear his loud bike getting closer.

"Hey, baby!" he said and kissed me on the lips.

"Let's go!" I put my helmet on and jumped on the backseat. It was my first time attempting to get on a motorcycle, so it didn't go so smoothly.

"So where are we going?" he said.

"To my old home to see my Mama."

"For what?"

"I told you I'm demanding money."

"What money?"

"Just shut up and drive."

And we stormed off like too rebels ditching school; which we were. I tried not to think about the fog and how he could crash into anything. Riding a motorcycle wasn't as glamorous as it looked. My panties were bunched up and my jeans were too tight for me to breathe. As he sped quicker down the empty streets, the wind of the town took my breath away as the leather in my jacket shocked my skin.

Within ten minutes, we were at my old home on the crappy part of town. I got off the bike and my hair was like strings going in different directions.

I laughed. "I look crazy!"

"Ha, it's okay," he said as he got off the bike. "Should I wait out here?"

"No, come with me. It might get ugly and I need backup if she turns into a lion."

As we approached the porch, Mama was already opening the door, holding a glass of wine and smoking a cigarette. "Oh honey, I missed you!" she ran over to me and kissed me. "Come in, come in."

"I'm gonna make this quick. I will do anything—"

"Before you speak, I have some news to tell you," she said as she smoked her cigarette.

"But, Mama, let me speak—"

"It's about my health," she said in a soft tone. "I wanted to tell you the day you stormed out but you were so mad."

I grabbed Jordan to sit on the plastic couch next to me. "What is it?"

"I'm getting no better. I can't afford the medication, with all your father's medical bills. And your medical bills, I think I'm gonna die right here in this old home."

"Oh, Mama, don't say that. It'll be okay." I said as if I were asking a question.

"I can't afford this home either with my waitress job," she began to cry. "It's so hard."

I swallowed. "I can help you."

"You? Help me?" she laughed. "How?"

"Um..." I remembered what my father had told me before he died—"Do not give your Mama any of your money I'm leaving for you." _Cassie, do not do it! Don't help her! That is not why I wanted you to come here._

"I can help you with daddy's money. I'm eighteen now, so I can inherit it."

"Baby, I would never ask you to give me your father's money. That money is for your college education. I won't take it because he chose you."

"I'll give you half—"

"No, I won't take it!" she demanded. "It's for you."

"But Mama, I will give it to you."

"I didn't even think you remembered that money," she smirked.

"Why wouldn't I remember?"

"It's been years—"

"Only four years—"

"Four years worth of your medical bills," she muttered. "I've gotta tell you the truth, baby. I wanted to tell you in a different way..."

"About what?"

"I spent the money—"

"What?" I gasped.

"I had to. I used it on your medical bills. I could not have the money, but I asked daddy's lawyer and he said as long as I used it on you. I did—on your medical bills. I couldn't afford all that stuff. All the times I had to call the ambulance, your hospital stays, the medication. I'm still paying off bills." Mama walked to her table. "Look, it's your daddy's loans from college, and this is my medication bill. I can't even afford to pay my light bill this month."

"You had no right to use that money. I needed it for college."

"You? College? You'll be lucky enough to graduate high school. You don't ever go to school."

"You're my mother; you're supposed to support me!"

"I'm sorry, but the money is gone. About ten grand is left," she cried. "You did this to me!"

"Did what?"

"I swear, Cassidy, you're so selfish. I do everything for you but you repay me in bills, bills, bills! In the last year, Cassidy, you have been to the hospital over fifty times. I had to call the ambulance twenty times. I had to get you a psychologist. You think those things were free?"

"You're selfish." _Cassidy, forget about the money. That's not what I wanted you to go home for._

"Me? You're so selfish when you try to commit suicide. Who do you think you're hurting more—"

"Jordan, let's go!" I snapped and pulled Jordan to leave with me. "I guess this is the same thing you told daddy, right?"

"Don't say that!" she snapped.

"Just admit that you poisoned him and I won't bother you ever again."

"I would never do that—"

"Just say you did it and I'll leave you alone!" I cried. "Just say it!"

"What do you want me to say? You want me to embarrass myself and say I did poison him because I was sick of him?"

"Yes."

"Okay, Cassidy. I did do it. Are you happy?"

"Tell him not me."

"Are you serious?"

"It's a coping technique," I snapped. "Just tell him so he can leave me alone."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Mama, just tell him and I'll leave."

"Hubby, I poisoned you because I was sick of you and your medical bills. Are you happy, Cassidy?" she laughed.

I paused and listened for daddy's voice. "Is that why you wanted me to come here? Just so you could know the truth." It was silent up there.

"Aren't you coming back home? I miss you," Mama said as she continued to laugh.

"That's all I came here for; I came here for daddy not you." I pulled Jordan out the door and slammed the house door shut. Mama didn't follow me out because she knew she lost me for good.

"Are you okay?" Jordan finally spoke. "You look pissed."

"Can you believe her?" I snapped as I wiped the raindrops off my face.

"Fifty times?" Jordan said in amazement. "You've been to the hospital fifty times?"

"It's all her fault!" I cried. "And to think I was gonna give her my money."

"It is your fault."

"What?" I gasped at Jordan.

"You didn't have to try to commit suicide so many times."

"You know nothing. So, don't try to act like you know me so well because you don't."

"I'm just saying—"

"I'll walk to school," I said as I pushed his helmet away.

"Cassie, don't be like that. Come on, we are already late. It looks like it's about to storm."

"Nope, I'm fine. I can walk."

"You're so damn stubborn." Jordan hopped on his bike. "If you change your mind, call me."

I ignored him as he drove off. I walked in the opposite direction of school and walked toward to the bowling center. On my way there, I had dialed Karen's number and it went to voicemail. I had forgotten already.

The lump in my throat felt bigger than ever as I entered the bowling center in tears. The bowling center was empty as everyone was at school today. Somewhere I should have been.

Instead, I went to the ladies room to clean my running mascara off my face. I knew I looked like a hot mess, because I could feel the heaviness on my skin.

"Grr, how can Mama say I'm selfish? She is beyond selfish. She killed daddy because she couldn't pay his bills. That is selfish!" I said to myself in the mirror as I dug around in my backpack for a razor. Then, I remembered I left it in my car. I smiled as I found my eyebrow razor in my makeup bag and I sat it on the sink—ready to be in ecstasy.

I closed my eyes, trying to get to a peaceful place again. The bathroom was silent, but then the sound of a girl moaning woke me from my peaceful zone—it was a moan of pain. I dropped my razor in the sink and walked around the stalls, quietly looking for the girl. The moans got louder as I walked closer to the back of the bathroom.

"Please, don't come back here," the girl spoke. I couldn't see her, but I had a feeling she could see me.

"Is someone in here?" I said.

"Well duh!" she snapped.

I walked to the last stall and kicked open the door. If this were any other day, I would be queen creep.

A girl with a huge wound in her arm was sitting against the toilet. Her arm bled a sparkling red glitter that looked familiar. Without hesitation, I walked over to her and wrapped her arm in my scarf—just like Mandy taught me.

"Are you okay?" I asked the girl, whose eyes were blistering red. "Can you hear me?"

She giggled as her eyes rolled behind her head. "I'm fine," she said so softly I could barely hear her.

"I'm Cassie White," I said like a robot. "I'm here to help you."

"I'm fine, Cassie. Really I am."

I removed the scarf from her arm and her blood came flowing like a waterfall. I was no expert but I knew that was too much blood to lose. I looked under my boots and blood covered the entire stall. "Oh my gosh, how long have you been sitting here?" I gasped as I wrapped the scarf tightly on her arm again. "Did you do this to yourself?"

"You wouldn't understand," she said. "No one understands."

"Trust me, I understand." I spotted the sharp blade next to her thigh and grabbed it. "You stay here."

I ran out the stall and out into the bowling entrance. "Mark, please you have to call 911. There is a girl in the bathroom that is bleeding to death." Yeah, I was very dramatic, but it was true.

"She had a baby?" Mark said as he ran to the phone. "Is she dead?"

"Nope, just call 911."

"Okay." He ran to the phone and dialed 911 and I could hear him instantly talking to an operator.

I ran back to the bathroom and quickly threw all my things into my school bag. Then, I ran back to the girl who was drowning in ecstasy.

"I've been sitting here for a while," she said. "I couldn't stop."

"What's your name?" I said.

"Huh?" she said as her eyes closed and she drifted away.

With my heart racing, I dug in her pocket searching for a wallet with contact information. I pulled out her school ID and she was a student at Simon high—my high school. Her name was Jennifer Lowe and she was seventeen and would be eighteen in a few months. She did not have anything else in there, where I could contact her family.

I could hear the ambulance arriving and I put my hand on her chest. She was still alive.

"We're back here!" I yelled for the paramedics. "Back here in the restroom!"

"Coming!"

They came running with a stretcher and equipment that I would not know what to call it. I got out the way and watched as they attempted to put IV in her and wrap her arm in proper medical equipment.

She seemed lifeless as someone tried to take her vital signs. Her body was all flimsy and her skin was pale like porcelain. I wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be alright. I instantly thought of Mandy when they pushed her off to the paramedics, except she wasn't covered in blood and her head was intact.

I wondered if that was how I looked when I was in that state. I wonder what the paramedics thought about a girl like her—a girl like me.

I went to the hospital to make sure everything was okay. I did not know Jennifer but I felt like she knew me. I wanted to know more about her and why she would try to kill herself. I wanted to understand why such a beautiful teen would want to end her life so suddenly. She seemed like she had the world at her fingertips. But, that was all judgment can get me—I knew nothing just like no one knew anything about me.

I felt uneasy as Dr. Summings came walking in my direction. **Uneasy 1** : because I was dating his son. **Uneasy 2** : because I knew about his affair.

"Cassidy," Dr. Summings greeted.

"Hello Tim...I mean Dr. Summings," I said.

"When I heard a suicide victim was coming in, I just knew it would be Cassidy White lying on the stretcher, but I was wrong. When I heard you were the one who saved Jennifer, I was amazed—"

"Excuse me, _save?_ "

"Yeah, you should feel honored you save that girl's life. She had been bleeding for a while and if you hadn't called 911, she would have died right there in a matter of minutes. And the way you wrapped her arm up saved her time."

"I saved her?" I said in disbelief.

"Yeah, if you wouldn't have been there, I would have bad news to share with the public."

"Really?"

"Looks like you do have good in you."

My heart began to pound in excitement. My presence had a purpose. I finally understood who I was.

***

After about two hours at the hospital, I realized they really didn't need me there anymore, so I went back to the only place I could call home.

When I entered the house, Raymond was sitting in front of the door. "You didn't go to school today?" he snapped. "I just spoke to Dr. Smith and he said if you don't start going to school you won't graduate on time."

"You spoke to my principle?" I said.

"It seems like no one else cares about you. You're so close to leaving this school. Why act up now? Is it because of Jordan?"

"No, it's not because of him. I will start going to class," I snapped. "And I don't appreciate you getting into my business."

"So, where were you today?"

"I've been at the—" my thought stopped as I saw Marla unpacking her things.

"Marla is moving back in," Raymond answered my thought.

"I see," I said.

"Hi, Cassidy," she said. "I'm sorry about earlier."

I began to laugh hysterically. "You guys are the most screwed up couple I know! You don't know what the hell you want. No wonder your daughter was so messed up in the head...she had two misfits as her parents. Let me guess, you're not pregnant?"

"Don't you dare speak to me like that," Marla said. "In my house!"

"You two need the most help! I feel sorry for you, Raymond."

"Who are you to tell us what we need? You need help more than us two put together!" Raymond snapped.

"At least I know I have a problem. And guess what, I want to work on it; I am working on it."

"You should just leave me and my family alone!" Marla cheered. "You're a bitch! You are so darn stubborn—"

"Marla, quit it!" Raymond said as he shoved Marla away.

"No, why should I? We are all honest in this house!" Marla said. "You should just leave Cassidy because you're breaking my family up."

"Me?' I said.

"Yes. I don't approve of suicidal people."

"I was young and I didn't understand suicide," I said.

"Was? You mean just this morning; you can't change in one day!"

"I did change," I said. "I saved a girl's life today. She changed me for the better."

"Oh really, did you save her from choking on a pea?"

"You're so funny, Marla!" I laughed sarcastically and left to my room.

Raymond followed behind me, scratching his chin. "Don't worry about Marla—"

"I can't believe you. That woman is a witch!" I laughed. "Do you remember how she made you feel? She crushed your heart into pieces."

He shook his head, "I know, but you don't understand. I love, Marla. She's all I have. You even said it."

"Honesty is a bitch sometimes." I rubbed my eyes. "I didn't mean it."

"You're the queen of honesty," he said. "Are you going to be okay moving back home?"

"I don't think I should move back home," I cried. "Mama hates me."

"Really?" he said.

"Yes, we always fight," I sobbed. "I feel like I don't have anyone."

Raymond shrugged. "That sucks. I guess you can stay here..."

"No way, not with Marla here," I said. "I don't want to be a bother."

"You always have Jordan."

"But, I like you... _a lot_. More than you think."

"Really?" he smiled.

"I do."

"So, what does that mean?"

"Whatever you want it to mean."

"This is wrong," he whispered and pushed me away. "You're Karen's friend."

"Karen is dead," I whispered as I sat down.

"But, we can't act as if she doesn't exist."

"I know, I've been through a lot in a few months, I just need to get away. Maybe I can drop out of school and get my GED or something—"

Marla walked into the room. "She's not staying here, is she?"

Raymond looked at me. "Uh—"

"Don't count on it. I'm going to stay somewhere else," I said. "I don't want to ruin your perfect family."

"Like where can you go?" Raymond said.

"I don't know...I'll find a place."

"Don't be silly, Cassie. You can stay here, with us."

"No, don't offer," Marla chided. "She can leave if she wants."

Chapter 18

### September 28

Without asking, Jordan sat in the passenger seat of my car. With a confused face, he dusted off his wet leather jacket and put some nicotine gum in his mouth. He looked at me in shock as he saw pillows, blankets, and all my clothes in the backseat. With a gentle smile, he kissed my lips.

"I've been trying to call you, but your phone goes straight to voicemail," he said, as he scrunched up his face from the odor in my car.

"Apparently, I couldn't afford my cell phone bill this month," I said in a raspy voice, as if I were a smoker.

"Ew, Cassie you stink! You smell like my old uncle Martin!"

"And what is that like?"

"Like alcohol and sweat. Have you been living in your car?"

I began to cry, "I kind of miss the voices because I'm so lonely."

"Why didn't you call me?"

I stared at him as if he were the most stupid person and handed him my phone. "I don't have a phone you idiot and I only have one-hundred dollars left for two more refills of gas! I need to get my job back at the bowling center."

I could feel Jordan staring at my wrist. Once again, my scars felt like fire under my silk scarf. I hid my arm under my black coat and turned to look out my foggy window.

"Cassidy, have you been cutting again?" he said.

I stayed silent ignoring him.

"You can stay with me. I don't have a problem with you staying with me."

"Oh, Jordan, you make everything seem like it's perfect when it's not."

"I'm not trying to make everything perfect, Cassie. I'm just trying to make the mess into something better!" he snapped. "And if you don't want my help, then just leave me then."

"I didn't say I don't want your help."

"Then, stop crying, and take this money I'm going to give you to buy some breakfast and then go to class," he said as he dug into his pocket. "Here, this is fifty bucks."

"I'm not taking your pity money."

"Stop being so stubborn and take the money. It's not like you asked me for it. You never ask me for anything."

Without another response, I snatched the money out his hand. He kissed me again, left out the car, and went back to class.

I tried to get out my car as quick as possible when I spotted Mr. Rivers walking back to his car. "Mr. Rivers! Mr. Rivers," I shouted.

"I really can't talk—Cassidy? Aren't you going to be late?"

"Well, what's new, right?"

"I guess we won't be having our little talks in the morning anymore."

"Why not?"

"Well, let's just say Mr. Smith won't be referring me."

"What happened? Was it because of me? Did I do something wrong?" I said.

"No, no, it's just he said I was getting ahead of myself by giving you nonsense advice."

"Well, your nonsense advice has helped me so much. I can't even explain how much you helped me. Thank you."

He smiled, "Well then it was all worth it."

"When can I see you again?"

"Let's keep in touch. I'm moving to Arizona, so if you ever stop by, call me," he said. "It was nice getting to know you."

"Just in case, can I still call you if I need some more coping techniques?"

"Of course you can! I command you to do so."

"Thanks again, bye, Mr. Rivers."

"You may now call me Tyler."

I smiled. "Well, bye Tyler."

"Bye, Cassie."

As I turned around, Jordan was walking toward me with a pissed off expression. I met him halfway near my car and he handed me a key.

"Dr. Smith sent me home again. What's new?" he snapped. "All because I said he was a crappy principle."

"You know your attitude really needs to stop. I hate Dr. Smith too, but you miss more school than me!" I snapped.

"Really? You're gonna yell at me as if you're my mother."

"Sorry," I sighed and got back into my car.

"Just follow me home since I assume you're not going to school either by the way you look and smell."

"Okay, then."

I did not know there was a part of Simon city that had an area richer than where Raymond lived. Well, the doctors and lawyers had to have somewhere to hide out.

Jordan lived in a huge brick home with a front patio, a pound, and a five car garage. Even the pathway to the garage was fancy—with block tiles and trees that were nearly bigger than the home.

"Your home is nice," I said as I followed Jordan inside.

"Let's be a little quiet because my dad came home for break to get some sleep," he said.

"Does he know I'm staying here?" I asked.

"I don't think he will care."

Jordan led me upstairs to the guest room that was bigger than my old home with Mama. It had a powder room, a bathroom, and a huge window overlooking the backyard. As he opened the blinds, I unpacked my things.

"Are you sure I can stay here?" I asked again.

"Of course, but if you're scared of the dark you can always join me next-door," Jordan said.

I laughed. "Too bad for you; I'm not afraid of the dark."

Jordan winked and stared out the window. I watched his expression change from laughter to anger in seconds.

I walked next to him to see what he was looking at. "What is Marla doing here?"

He rolled his eyes. "She's always over. My dad just comes home to sleep on break, but she always comes by."

"But, she went back home a few days ago. Raymond forgave her and everything! That bitch!" As I dug into my pocket for my unpaid cell phone, Jordan grabbed my hand—

"What's the deal? Why do you care so much?" he snapped. "It's my parents' problem, not yours."

"Marla's husband cannot be lied to. I love him and I —"

"Did you just say you love him?"

"Nope...you didn't let me finish—"

"Do you even love me?"

"No, I like you a lot...it's too soon to love."

"Cassidy, I don't even know you. You like an old man? I mean you love an old man?"

"I hate when you call me Cassidy, that always means you're mad at me. Just let me speak."

"No, I don't want you to. I think it's a bad idea—the two of us together," Jordan said. "I feel like I learn less and less about you the more I spend time with you."

"But, I love you—"

"You just said it's too soon. And I agree," Jordan said. "Maybe you staying here, isn't a good idea."

"Us being together is a bad idea," I said. "I'll go back home."

"Cassidy—Cassie, I don't like fighting with you."

"You don't understand my situation—"

"Then, explain it to me!"

"I can't because you won't understand. I'll just go back home and I'll see you later or whenever."

Jordan didn't walk me back downstairs as I ran to my car in tears. I didn't really understand why I was crying. Was it because of Jordan or Raymond? That was one reason why I hated being a girl—we are so emotional.

In tears, I drove back home to the crappier side of town. The part of town where I grew up, the part of town where I would probably one day die. I began to fidget as I got closer to home and I could already feel Mama's presence. I could already smell her cigarette breath and her lavender shampoo.

As expected when I pulled up to the place that was my hell, Mama was outside on the porch smoking her cigarette. Her eyes let up when she saw me get out my car.

Mama held her arms out for me, "I told you will always need me. Mother knows best."

I walked into her arms and began to cry again. "Why aren't you at work?"

"They fired me because someone told them about the HIV."

"Who would do that?"

"I don't know. The only person who knows is you and the medical staff and I'm highly sure they didn't say anything."

"So, you're blaming me?" I snapped as I pushed her away. "Why would I say such a thing?"

"Hmm, I don't put anything past you."

"This is why I didn't want to come back home to you! We always fight!"

"Dr. Summings called," she said, changing the subject. "He wanted you to come for something."

I rolled my eyes. "Mama, what are we going to do?"

"Do about what?"

"We don't have money to pay for anything."

"The last time you were here you made me think about your father. I can't stop thinking about him and I dream about him. I feel like he's punishing me for what I did to him. I think I understand now what you have been going through."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I might do it."

"Do what?"

"I might just turn myself in. At least I won't have to worry about bills, and my health and if I'll eat dinner."

"You're kidding me, right?"

She began to cry, "Nope. I'm dead serious."

"And who do you think will be left with all those bills? ME!"

"I just can't take it anymore," she sobbed. "You don't understand."

"Just give me one hug, just in case we don't see each other anymore."

"Mama, please don't do this to me."

"Just give me a damn hug, Cassidy Anne White!"

"No!"

In the blink of an eye, Mama smacked me with her strong hand and I collapsed to the grass. She didn't say a word—she just smoked her cigarette and walked back into the dark house.

I didn't know what to do so I crawled into a fetal position and cried until I couldn't cry anymore.

Chapter 19

### September 29

Early the next day, I made it to see what Dr. Summings wanted with me. I went early because the cafe across the street was the only place I knew close by that had a single stall where I could freshen up.

When I went into the hospital, Dr. Summings saw me right away and pulled me into his office. He sat me in a comfortable chair, which maybe I loved because I was sleeping in my car. I was caught off guard when Jennifer was in a chair next to me.

"You look exhausted, Cassidy," Dr. Summings said. "Have you been sleeping?"

"Um, yeah," I lied.

"Uh, I tried to contact you but your cell went—"

"Yeah, it doesn't work anymore."

Dr. Summings sighed. "Anyway, you remember Jennifer, right?"

"Of course I do," I said as I shook Jennifer's hand. "What did you need me for?"

"Well, I just wanted to know how you are doing. I'm glad I haven't seen you back in my hospital—"

"Why would she be here?" Jennifer said.

"Like you Jennifer, Cassidy is a former attempted suicide victim," Dr. Summings said.

"Former?" I said while I hid my fresh scar.

"Well, yes...you haven't attempted have you?" Dr. Summings said. "Not in a while, right?"

"Well, to be honest—"

"What is the likely of that?" Jennifer said. "Two people like me and you."

"I want you to be a mentor for Jennifer," Dr. Summings said.

_A mentor?_ I could barley function with my own life, let alone help someone else. I could not be an adviser to Jennifer. I liked her but I knew nothing about getting better or mental health. If only he knew that day, I was going to cut myself and probably go all the way. If only he knew I had just cut again a few days ago.

"Oh, no I can't do that. I have school and um..." I said.

"That's perfect. Jennifer goes to your school," Dr. Summings said.

"I've never seen her."

"I avoid people in general," she said.

"Sounds familiar," I said.

"Can you?" Dr. Summings said.

"And what do I get out of it?" I said.

"Gosh, Cassidy, don't be so selfish. You'll be saving a life and you'll have a new friend."

"Friend?"

"Yes, a friend."

I looked at Jennifer and she had a cute puppy dog smile—how could I say no. And the word friend frightened me to death—it immediately made me think of Mandy and not in a good way. "I have to think about it."

"I would actually like Cassidy to be my mentor," Jennifer said. "I never had one before."

"Um, I guess I can squeeze her into my hectic schedule," I said sarcastically as if I had a life.

"And you've been going to see Martha Conan, right?" he asked. "Did you like her?"

"I didn't like her much; I have a new person who I prefer to help me," I said.

"Is this person licensed?"

"Um...yes," I lied.

"Who is it?"

"Eh..."

"So, um can we go?" Jennifer said. "I have class."

"Not until Cassidy says yes or no," he said.

"Okay, I'll do it."

"You promise?" he said.

"I promise I will stay by her side."

"Good. We are releasing Jennifer today. So, you can take her to school tomorrow. You'll be best friends in no time." Dr. Summings led us out the room.

"That's all you wanted from me?" I said.

"Yeah. Bye ladies and take this note to class." Dr. Summings went running off to the nurses' station and I turned to Jennifer who was smiling.

"That word scares me," I said little too late.

"What word?" Jennifer said.

"Best friends."

"Oh yes, that word has never been used in my vocabulary!" she laughed.

"Don't you have family who can mentor you?" I snapped.

"I'm emancipated."

"I think me and you can be really good friends."

Jennifer was what I considered a "cool" kid. She actually had friends and she was fairly good looking. She had medium length red straight her. Her trademark clothes were skinny jeans, flats, and a cardigan. I could not understand why a girl like her was so depressed but then again people said the same thing about me.

I liked having someone to talk to, but I just wished I had a friend who didn't follow everything I did—like when I decided to skip school, my friend should be the opposite and force me to get to class.

Well Jennifer was like everyone else. Instead of going back to school, we decided to watch a movie at the two-dollar theater and then go to Starbucks to get some coffee, which I didn't buy because I couldn't afford it.

"I'm leaving Simon High next semester to go to Simon Academy," Jennifer said as she drank her hot chocolate.

"Why?" I said.

"I want a fresh start. Plus, the school I'm going to will be ten times smaller."

"Really?"

"You should transfer too. It's right outside of town."

"You mean on the richer part of town, which I can't afford."

"What do you mean you can't afford it?" she questioned.

"I can't even pay for gas let alone a fancy school like that," I sighed. "I'm thinking about dropping out anyway."

"Why would you drop out? That is a bad idea."

"True but I have such bad grades I think my GPA might be 0.20 if that is even possible."

"It'll be cool. We would already have each other on the first day. And I heard the richer kids are nicer."

"Jennifer, I can't just leave to that school. I don't think you understand that I'm poor. How do you even have money to attend there?"

"I have a money tree," she joked. "Enrollment starts next week. So, if you do...we can enroll together."

"You're not convincing me."

"Do you have a boyfriend you don't want to leave behind?" Jennifer said. "Or a _girlfriend_?"

"Not anymore."

"So, you like girls?"

"No! I don't like girls," I said. "Does it look like I like girls?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Can we talk about something else, like why I found you half-dead at the bowling center," I snapped. "What happened to you?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes and stared out the window. "Well, I'm not exactly emancipated. I have a family but they treat me like dirt. I have a sister who they admire so much. And I was over it, so I slit my wrist."

I thought about Mr. Rivers and how he thought I had some attention disorder. I never understood why someone would cut for attention, but it made sense. Jennifer was an example of everything he tried to make me. "Oh..."

"You're not judging me, right?" she whispered. "Who are you to judge?"

"I'm not judging you," I lied.

"I know you are, what makes you so better to be suicidal? Why do you always get put before me when it comes to this stuff?"

"I'm not trying to challenge you! I just have been through a lot more than I assume you have been."

"Like what?"

"Well, my best friend who I'm sure you have heard of name, Mandy was murdered. I had to go to the hospital and recognize her decapitated body because her family didn't want to see her like that. And not only that I had to live with the fact that she begged me to pick her up before she was killed. Then, I had everyone blame me for it. It doesn't end there, she stalked me for months in my head. Now about my dad. I had to live with the guilt knowing that my mother killed him. I lied to the police and said he died in his hospice bed but in actuality he was in his chair alive and healthy, joking about the Laker game—"

"Okay, okay...you're really messed up in the head. I feel bad for you."

"Don't feel bad for me, Jennifer," I smiled. "I'm fine now. Life goes on, right—"

"Cassie?"

I turned around to see Jordan with his motorcycle helmet in his hand. He was all wet, as if he walked in the rain again. Without permission, he sat across from Jennifer and me.

"Jordan?" I said.

"Cassie," he said. "I'm sorry. I thought about everything and I just want to let you know..."

"Um, should I leave?" Jennifer said, while sipping her coffee.

I grabbed her hand to stay. "No, because he is leaving."

"Cassie, let me speak!" Jordan said.

"No!" I said as I shoved him away.

"I'm leaving for California this weekend," Jordan said as quickly as he could. "And I'm not coming back."

"What?" I gasped. "Why?"

Jordan dug around his leather jacket. "I went to the office today and they said my GPA is a 2.0; I can't graduate with that. So, I'm leaving and I guess I'll get my GED."

I stared at this paper and knew my GPA had to be lower than his based on I didn't attend class often. "What about your parents?"

"What parents? I see my mom once a month if I'm lucky or if there is a funeral in town, and my dad works all day. They won't even notice I'm gone."

"So, what is in California?" I snapped. "Why there? That place is expensive!"

"My cousin is in this band and he just got signed with a record deal. They are going to be touring with an all-star band."

"Okay, and?"

"I want to know if you want to come with me?"

"I can't come with you," I giggled.

"Why not? You have nothing here."

"I would be like your little follower."

"I promise I won't get mad and I hate when we fight."

I looked at Jennifer, then at Jordan. If I were to leave with Jordan, I would be like any other girl who chose boys over friends. Even though I did not know if Jennifer was my friend, I made a promise that I would stay by her side. "I can't do that."

"I have tons of money so we can buy an apartment."

"I'm sorry, I have to finish school."

"School?" he laughed. "You're joking, right? I'm sure your grade point average is worse than mine."

"Jordan, just leave me alone."

"Cassidy, this is the last time I'm telling you this!" Jordan attempted to kiss my hand, but I shoved him away.

"No!"

He jumped up and slammed his fist on the table. He gave me an evil look and walked away without a word. We both watched him hop onto his motorcycle and drive off down the street. I would miss him, but I had a feeling he would come back to me sooner or later.

"Awkward," Jennifer said.

"Ex-boyfriend."

"You should go with him."

"No, I would just make myself crazier. I am still trying to get better. And if I don't learn about myself now, I never will."

Later that day, I went back to Raymond's house to pick up the last things I had. I did not tell him I was living in my car, because he would just want to shelter me like a dad.

When I entered the home, there were boxes everywhere. I spotted Raymond in the den, drinking wine. I didn't want to bother him, but he looked so upset.

"I thought you don't drink?" I said.

"Me and Marla are divorcing," he said.

"Then, why aren't we having a party," I teased.

"I'm sorry about everything we put you through. I'm surprised you're not at the top of the Empire State building—"

"Not cool."

"Sorry."

I walked over to him and rubbed his shoulder. "Is she kicking you out?"

"Sadly."

"I could have told you that."

"Where are you staying? If you want I can buy a little old house, and we can get jobs and split the rent—"

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. I know you're not—"

"Okay, I'm not fine. I don't know where I'll be tomorrow or if I'm finishing school. I don't have anywhere to stay. I don't want to ask Jennifer or Rebecca to stay with them—"

"Who is Jennifer?"

"Some girl whose life I saved."

"You saved someone?" he gasped.

"Yes, didn't I tell you this?"

"You did?"

"Typical..."

"What about Jordan?"

"He's leaving me."

Raymond smiled.

"It's not funny," I said.

"I can't say I'm not happy about it! He doesn't deserve you."

"How rude. I actually like him," I said.

"You didn't like him. You thought you did, but you didn't."

"You can't tell me who I like or not."

"Well, I know you didn't like him."

"This is why I don't want to talk to you. You never listen—probably a reason why Marla is leaving you and why I have to leave too."

"You're not gonna leave me," he winked. "I always win."

"I'm going to rent out an apartment and I'm going to find a job—"

"Good—"

"But, not with you," I snapped. "I just came by to get my last box. I'll see you when I see you."

"I'm not letting you go!" Raymond stood up as if he were shielding me. "I won't let you go!"

"You're scaring me now," I said as I turned around to walk. "I have to go."

"Wait!" Raymond ran over to me and it felt like my heart stopped. "You can't leave me." With little force, Raymond grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him.

I tried to push him back as he tugged on me to go with him. "Stop it!"

"Just don't be difficult!" Raymond snapped as he leaned in to kiss my lips. He shook me forcefully to the ground and the only person I could think about was Mandy. As I tried to crawl away, Raymond pulled me by my hair and dragged me back.

"I'm going to call the police! Karen was right! You're a psycho!"

As he stopped to think about Karen, I jumped up and belted for the door as fast as I could go. With shaky hands, I tried to stick my key to unlock the car door but like a horror movie, it wouldn't fit.

Right when I opened it, Raymond came running out. "Wait, Cassie! Wait!"

Before he could approach my car, I went driving off down the street. I lost control of the car a few times as my heart raced out of control—luckily no one was on the wet road. I turned onto my street and before I could fully stop my car, I jumped out as I noticed a police car parked in front.

"Cassidy?" Kevin ran to my car.

"Where is Mama? Where is Valeria? I need her right now."

"Um, well she is down at the police station. I think they might lock her away in an institution; she is talking like a maniac—something about her poisoning her husband. Police have a warrant to raid this home. "

"She told you guys that?" I said. "Why are you raiding it?"

"Maybe it's all the meds she's on. We found loads of cocaine and meth in the home. If anything, she will be arrested for that. Did you know anything about that?"

"Oh god no! Mama would never do drugs."

"That could explain why she became so manic toward you."

"How long has she been on drugs?" I gasped, realizing it could have explained a lot.

"She said about five years now—everyday all day. That could explain how she got the AIDS from contaminated needles."

"She doesn't have AIDS, she has HIV."

"Nah, she has full blown AIDS now. The others think it's safe if you get tested too. Especially since you two used to get into fights a lot."

"But, they tested me the last time I was there for a drug overdose. That was probably the last time I was around her."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I began to breathe normal again, but my thoughts were going haywire. I couldn't believe Mama was doing drugs. Now everything made sense—our fights, her yelling, and the murder. It wasn't her, it was the drugs.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Kevin said. "Isn't that Jordan behind you?"

I turned around to the loud sound of his motorcycle. In shock, I walked over to him, ignoring Kevin's question. "Jordan?" I said.

"Cassie, what happened here? Is your mother alright?" he said as he got off his bike to hug me. He brushed my hair out my face and kissed me.

I wrapped my arms around him, "No, she's not, but it will be okay."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, it will be okay."

"Okay, I want to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

"It's a secret."

"That sounds scary."

"Don't be silly. Can you come or are you busy with the cops?"

"Maybe later tonight or tomorrow. A lot is happening and Mama is at the police station," I cried. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"What happened?" he asked again as he hugged me.

"Just stay with me, please."

"Alright, Cassie. I'm not going anywhere."

Chapter 20

### The Final Day

Jordan took me to the city's park that no one visited anymore. His masculine hands wrapped mine so perfectly as we found a clean area to sit at the top of the hill that overlooked Simon, Idaho. We stayed silent as the minutes went on—I wasn't really sure why he brought me there.

I looked into his worried eyes, and then leaned on his shoulders, "Are we going to speak?"

"Do you remember this park?" he finally spoke.

The wind astounded me and I lifted my head up. "Yeah, it used to be so beautiful. What happened to it?"

"It eventually got old and no one seemed to cherish it anymore."

"Just like everything else in life. No one appreciates anything until it's gone."

"Me and the boys used to come up here every Friday night and pop fireworks. Then, we got caught and police wrote us up."

"Um, you guys were idiots back then too?" I giggled. "I'm just kidding."

"Yup, that's when we started hanging out at the bowling center."

"So why are we here?" I said.

"To cherish it," he said. "Well, rather for memories."

"What memories, we've never been here together."

"Yes we have, back when we all graduated from middle school. All the parents joined together to throw us an amazing picnic full of games and food. I remember that day like it was yesterday. You were happier back then and when we were in ninth grade, I wondered why you changed so much. It was like your evil twin."

I closed my eyes, bringing back the vivid memory. Mandy had dyed her hair with blue streaks and I had red ones. I remember we wore the brightest pair of jeans, just to stand out because we hated dark colors—she had a hideous green pair and I had bright blue ones.

"Ha, I remember when Mandy's pants got super wet and everyone said it looked like she had diarrhea. We could laugh about those things back then. And she would joke along and say 'nope it's my time of the month and I forgot the pads.'"

"Ha, I remember that," he laughed. "Whatever it was on her pants, it looked like poop."

I gently shoved him, "It was grass stains, silly."

"Do you remember when Kyle was showing off and he tried to do a handstand to impress the girls but instead he busted his lip—"

"Oh my god, I remember that!" I laughed. "And everyone was calling him Angelina Jolie's twin because his lip swelled up the whole day."

"Ew it did! It was too funny."

"Ugh, do you remember when my dad arrived and he began dancing like Michael Jackson. Seriously, who gave him the white glove?"

"Everyone kept on saying whose dad that was, and—"

"I would say 'I don't know'," I laughed. "And I would go 'oh my god daddy you're so embarrassing.' It was too funny."

"You remember the dance party we had?"

"Mandy was the one who got everyone to dance. She even had me dancing by the end of the night."

"Your mom had cooked a mean meal of that rice," he said as he rubbed his stomach. "And my mom had started the karaoke booth and I swear she embarrassed me so much I wanted to cry."

"Yeah, your mom should never sing," I teased.

"Everything was so good back then. What happened?" Jordan said, turning serious again.

"Life happened. Don't you wish you could go back in time and just reverse everything?"

"Yeah, go back to eighth grade and be happy again," he said.

"But, then we wouldn't be here."

"Yeah, and now we have each other."

I smiled, "So, are you still moving to California?"

Jordan rolled his eyes. "I'm not staying here if that's what you're asking."

"Me either."

"Where are you going?" he gasped.

"There is no point of me staying here. I felt as though I was holding Jennifer back. Her life is moving on, but mine isn't. I want to finish high school, but in actuality I won't be able to graduate. It's not like anyone cares really. If I die right now, no one would even remember me. I really have no point here anymore. I served my purpose by saving Jennifer. Now, I have nothing."

"That's not true!" he snapped. "Cassidy, you're gonna make me cry and you don't want to do that. Of course, people are going to care."

"Name one person..."

"Me, I'll care. You're upsetting me now."

"You're one person! When Mandy died, thousands mourned for her."

"You're not Mandy. You haven't even lived your life. You're supposed to grow up and go to college and make lifelong friends. Get married, have a big wedding. Have kids, then grand-kids. You're not supposed to give up now."

I stayed silent, realizing how selfish I was.

Jordan traced his fingers over my scars. "I have this idea..." With a smile, Jordan handed me a pamphlet for a recovery center. I scanned through it, realizing the center was in New York. It was a free hospital setting that provided living and schooling for those who suffer with depression or anything else.

"What is this?" I said.

"If no one is going to get you help, I will," he said. "I'll stay with you."

"But...but...I cannot do this."

"Um, you better! Cassidy, you're going to end up killing yourself one day. Why would you not take this opportunity? You have all the reasons to get help. Nothing here in Idaho is helping you to recover. If you stay here, living the lifestyle you're living now, you'll be dead before your twenty-one."

"Well..."

"It's free and you can finish school there. When I was sixteen, I did community work there and it was probably the best experience ever. There are so many wonderful people there. You may not think your condition is serious, but it is. It's just going to get worse."

"Will you stay with me? But, I thought you were going to California."

"I said I will stay with you, Cassie. I'm not going to California."

"Well, thank you," I cried. "Thank you for actually caring."

As it got colder, Jordan wrapped me in his arms as we watched the sunset fade into the night. At that moment, everything seemed right—nothing bad could ever happen. The end of the world could have been happening, but as long as we were sitting on that hill, nothing bad could happen to us. I did not believe there were someone left on Earth as amazing as him. I didn't have many people care about me and those who claimed they did, just made me worse. Not one person, went out of their way to knock me into reality and made me realize I have a life worth living. After saving Jennifer's life I realized my purpose, but after dealing with everything in my life, I realized I had a long life to live—and I wanted to live every minute of it.

"So, will you go with me?" I said.

"Of course, because I love you, Cassie."

"I love you too."

### Epilogue | Notes from Author

_Only the people you trust can hold you through a sand storm_. Cassidy White may be a fictional character in a fictional story, but there are many real teenagers living her exact life. Many teens keep a life such as Cassie's a secret and it gets worse.

Many teens come from broken homes, with addictive parents, or abusive caregivers. Some teens are secretly addicted to drugs but look one-hundred percent fine. We always want to cross judgment because everyone always thinks the next person's life is better than theirs—when nine out of ten it's probably not.

Mama represented a mother that many people have. She is strong minded but faded by addiction and anger. She may have turned to drugs for many reasons. Maybe she felt bad that she had contracted an STD or maybe she just tried it once and she got hooked. Whatever her reason, it destroyed her relationship with everyone she loved. Because of the drugs, she ended up doing something a normally conscious person wouldn't do, by murdering her husband. Because of drugs, she would beat on her daughter to release anger from hidden secrets. Mama would have to be out of her state of mind to murder someone she truly loved and took care of her. That just represents how powerful drugs can be.

Karen was the typical girl-next-door that Cassie thought had the perfect life. We all know a Karen or may have met a Karen. A girl or guy who has the biggest smile on their face, who has the nicest clothes, and the biggest home in town. However, no one takes the chance to wonder if that person's life is really like that, when most of the time it's not.

Jordan was the bad boy. Every story has one because in real life they exist. There is always a reason why a person is the way they are. Jordan did not have anyone to care what he did, so he lived life as if he had no boundaries. I believe everyone knows a person like that. We look at them and so ache for the no-rules life they have, but in actuality they are screaming for affection. That could be a reason why he attached to Cassie so well, because she actually cared for him.

Raymond is an interesting character because you really don't know his intentions. He was a mentally ill man, who just wanted love. I won't say we know someone like that, but I think people could agree on the whole having someone to relate too part. When Raymond realized there are other people like him, he attaches to them, but feels more power when he realizes they may be worse off than him. He rode around town in his fancy sports car, and lived in the biggest home, but he was in a broken marriage.

This story revolves around Mandy. I wanted Mandy to represent a guilty conscious. Many people have one, and she was Cassie's. Cassie felt as though her life was being controlled by Mandy as well as her father. However, when Cassie got off her shoulders what she felt about them, everything calmed down.

I never dealt with self-harm personally. When I wrote this story, I wanted to it relate to every teen or adult that read it. I wanted them to think, _I can relate to this character or I know someone like this_ —and maybe learn from it. The main lesson I wanted to be learned was to not take life for granted. Many of the characters in the story did, whether it was Cassie + suicide, or Mama + drugs. I also, wanted someone who was in the same situation as Cassie to realize that life gets better and the sun shines bright when you wake up the next morning.

It breaks my heart to hear another story on the news about a teen killing themselves, whether from bullying or depression. I believe everyone deserves a chance to enjoy life to the fullest, even if you feel as though you were given the wrong hand.

It would mean a lot if you emailed me your thoughts at blairburden@gmail.com Here are some questions to consider, _1. What are your thoughts on Cassie and all the other characters? 2. Could you relate to this story? 3. What did you pull away from this story?_ Send your long or short response.

For information on more novels visit official website.

