 
Entangled in Darkness

by Lindsey Webster

Copyright © 2015 Michelle Webster

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

First Printing - September 2009 by Wasteland Press

ebook - September 2012 by Lindsey Webster at Smashwords

ISBN: 978-0-986-77500-0 (ebook)

ISBN: 978-1-60047-348-7 (print)

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is strictly coincidental

Dedication:

For Caitlin, my little sister. You didn't survive the darkness and it will always be dark as I stand here alone and face the future without you.

Prologue

I remember when I was a child I almost drowned. It was a cloudy day in early spring when the flowers were just starting to bloom. I was twelve years old and I shouldn't have been standing on the slippery dock. But I liked watching the water on the lake. It had such a peaceful feeling to me. I would imagine myself swimming like a dolphin through the water, or a mermaid. The water streaming past my skin and an enchantment of underwater worlds seemed glorious to me. Maybe I was too old for such fantasies, but at the time I would have given anything to swim away and be part of something better. There was something mystical about the lake and nothing special about my life.

It was cold that day. It had been raining for months. But as I stood there, I could see the spring sun trying to poke its head out from behind the clouds. There was a strong breeze that kept blowing the long strands of my dark-blonde hair into my mouth. But I didn't mind. The wind only made the lake seem more magical.

Something had drawn my attention to the end of the dock. I heard splashing and when I looked I could see rings where the water had been disturbed. The light shined against the water but when I peered into it I could see a dark shadow underneath the surface. I walked to the very end and suddenly I slipped and went crashing into the water. I felt shock at the rush of coldness over my body. I didn't have time to think about what had happened. There was no real thought, just survive.

I thrashed my arms through the water to stay afloat but my head kept going under. I gasped for air each time my head bobbed above the surface. I tried to scream for help but I don't know if any words came out of my mouth as I struggled to get enough air and gurgled on water. The water was piercing cold like knives stabbing inside my whole body. All I could hear was the sound of water splashing as I struggled and the sound of my muffled voice trying to scream. I don't know how long it lasted. It felt like forever but at the same time, everything had happened so quickly. I struggled and fought for life but I couldn't stay afloat.

Then it came to a point where life seemed to stop. I stopped. Everything paused, but only for a second. And in that moment I realized I didn't have to fight. I didn't have to struggle. And I stopped. The scary thing is that it became so peaceful once I stopped struggling. I flowed under the water and slowly drifted deeper into the lake letting the muddy water catch me in its darkness.

Everything felt slow moving. I could see the light shining through the surface of the water. It looked like the sun had finally pushed through the clouds and it just enraptured me. I stared up at the light until it became all I could see. There were no thoughts or feelings. I was no longer cold. All the pain had seeped away and I was anaesthetized. Everything had become light.

My father saved me. He was arguing with my mom when I fell in the water. He told me later that he noticed I wasn't standing on the dock anymore. I remember waking to him breathing into my mouth with his warm breath. I immediately coughed up the water that had filled my lungs and continued hacking for several moments. Then I lay back down and shivered. My dad put his brand new fleece jacket over me. My mom was kneeling down beside me, her head hovering over me and her brown hair grazing my face. She put her delicate sweater around my cold head and wrapped up my wet hair in it. I lay there groggy and watched them look at each other mouthing "thank you, God". My head felt like it was swimming in dizziness and my throat stung from all the coughing. My chest ached with a heaviness over it.

My mom was stroking my head lovingly and then my dad spoke. He said he couldn't lose me, that I scared him to death. I saw tears falling from his strained eyes and his blond hair laying wet against his face. His forehead was wrinkled tensely. Then I saw his relieved smile. It wasn't like any other smile I had seen before. It was a lopsided grin, wide with bright eyes filled with tears. My mom just looked at me with a smile and tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were just as bright and fearful as my father's eyes.

He stared at me with that complicated smile and all I could feel was numbness. My father had saved me and yet a part of me had wanted to die because of him. I watched him from the dock screaming at my mother and throwing his arms in the air at her. She stood there and cried. I could hear her saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." from the dock. I felt like my world was falling apart. All I could think was that this wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. I didn't throw myself into the water, but a part of me didn't mind that I had fallen in. I fought for my life but only for a few minutes and then I let the lake take me away. Because I felt in that moment life had already taken me away.

There was one good thing about that day—I was special again. My father, Neil, named me Annalyn because he thought it would suite a princess. And that's what I was to him. I was his little princess, Annalyn Johanssen, with her sparkling eyes. I have this picture on my dresser of me in a princess costume sitting on his lap. We're both smiling in the picture and it wasn't the fake kind of smile people do in pictures. We both had wide grins on our faces. It was on my fourth birthday and my parents had bought me that fuchsia princess costume complete with a tiara. My mom Maggie told me later that he had actually gone shopping with her and picked that present out for me himself.

I remember later that day I had a special birthday tea party with my dad using my pink tea set with daisies on it. He had real tea and I had orange Kool-Aid. The pictures taken later that day featured me with orange stains on the corners of my mouth and a wide-eyed smile.

I don't know when things started to change. I guess it was a slow progression from being something remarkable in his life to being the invisible child in the middle of the family. When I was on the dock and he was hovering over me with that broken smile, it was the first time in a long time that I actually felt special to him. And for the next few weeks he made sure I knew how much he loved me. He gave me flower bouquets filled with blue irises, my favourite, and roses, daisies and all sorts of different varieties to fill my room. And he smiled at me a lot.

When I went to bed, my father even came into my room to tuck me in and tell me "I like ya, I love ya." It was something my parents always said to us when we were little and they were tucking us in at night. By the time I was ten, they stopped saying it. They stopped giving goodnight hugs and just sent me off to bed not even minding that I might want them to wish me a good night. I missed these things but I never said anything because I didn't want to act like a little kid. I didn't want to admit that I still had nightmares and wanted my parents to wish them away when they tucked me in. But him saying it to me again made me feel thrilled. I was special again.

Soon things began to fade back to the way they were. My parents started fighting again. My older sister, Lydia, continued her ruthless ways. My younger sister, Janey, went back to being the beloved baby of the family. I was invisible once more.

Chapter 1

When I was eighteen, I moved out of my parents' white picket fence house and into an apartment near the university with my best friend. The city was Cedar Ridge and it lay amongst the coniferous mountains of western Canada. It was filled with evergreens, maples, willow trees, and numerous other lush plant life. There was a large park near my parents' house and it was just like wilderness. It had a cliff where you could watch the stars shine over the lights of downtown and a lake buried amongst the trees as if waiting to be discovered. Beyond the park on the hillside were streets filled with quiet houses where children grew up and felt safe swinging on tires and playing Tarzan atop tree houses in their backyards.

Cedar Ridge was a medium-sized city that neighboured a larger urban city on one side and a few smaller cities, suburbs and rural areas on all other sides. There was one university and a few colleges, a hospital and numerous shopping centres. It had almost everything you would need for everyday tasks and if there was anything you couldn't get there, you'd just drive into the big city. However, I preferred just staying in Cedar Ridge where things were familiar, where I could look North, East, West, or South and see towering mountains in the distance.

I was enrolled in the university and starting my first semester that fall. I was fresh out of high school and at the time, I felt like I was on the verge of something great. I was an adult now and I planned to get my undergraduate degree, though I wasn't sure what my major would be, and then I would go to graduate school and get my master's degree and later my PhD. This had been my plan all throughout high school as I strove to get the highest grades. I also spent much of my grade twelve year tutoring the other students and succeeding in numerous extracurricular activities such as the student body, the yearbook, and leadership. I didn't have a lot of friends and had only been on a small number of semi-successful dates, but that didn't matter to me at the time. I did have a best friend, Lexie, who kept me safe and sane throughout high school.

I remember the day that I left home. It was a few days before fall semester started. It was the day I was getting out of that house and things were finally going to be better. I was an adult. I was free.

"My girl's all grown up," my mom said. She smiled and stepped through the door with a large box overweighing her petite frame. Her eyes were glassy with tears that hadn't fallen yet. "Where do I put this box, sweetheart?" Her voice grunted a little and her forehead glistened with sweat.

"In my bedroom. I'm taking the room to the far left," I said. I looked around the three-bedroom apartment with its off-white walls and cracking paint on the windowsills and saw freedom.

"I hate this Annalyn," my sister, Janey, said. She walked through the door carrying a box with 'textbooks' written in bold letters across it. She was a thin twelve year old and her five-foot body was stumbling underneath the box. She kept blowing the strands of her long hair out of her mouth and eyes. I told her earlier that day that she should put her hair in a ponytail but her light-brown waves were her pride and she never tied them back.

"Hey, careful. You almost knocked over those boxes by the door," I said in a high-pitched voice. She frowned with piercing eyes and I relaxed a little. "I hate moving boxes too. But dad will be here with the last load soon."

Janey glanced at me, her head lowered and her eyes glossy. I didn't have to bother asking her what was wrong. I knew.

"I don't see why you have to move out," Janey said.

"When you're eighteen and starting university for the first time, you'll understand," I said.

"I just don't see the appeal. I mean you're not even living alone. And now you've gotta worry about rent and bills. Do ya really want to spend all your money on those things? I swear in a month you'll be begging to come home," Janey said.

"I won't be. And what do you know about rent and bills?" I said as I pulled her into a half hug and squeezed her with my arm.

"I watch TV and I have commonsense."

"Janey is right about that, Annalyn. If you're ever strapped for cash, do give your father and me a call," Mom said. She walked passed us and out the door to get another box.

"Thanks mom," I said with a smile.

"Seriously, you're gonna be so far away. I'm never gonna see you," Janey said.

I looked into her glossed-over eyes and remembered how I helped mom take care of her when she was a baby. When she was a little older, I pushed her on the tire swing. I sat on her bed and braided her hair, sometimes doing French braids if it was a special occasion. Recently, I taught her how to wear makeup so she'd look nice and not cheap or childish like some of the girls in her grade seven class that wore such bright colours.

"It's not that far. It's only a twenty minute drive. Maybe thirty in rush hour," I said.

"That's a lot," Janey said. "I have to take the bus, ya know."

"Well then you should tell the university to move their campus closer to us," I said with a laugh. She stuck her nose in the air and turned around.

There was a silence for a few minutes as we both went back to moving boxes. I avoided her eyes. I knew she was hurt but she didn't understand that I needed to get out of there. I needed to leave the fighting behind. I needed to get out, grow up, and make something of myself. I felt proud that day. I felt a sense of adventure and importance. Maybe I wasn't important yet. But I was going to be, I told myself. One day, I would have my PhD and I would be somebody important. Maybe I would be a psychologist that did important research. Maybe I'd be a criminologist that worked on understanding crime. Maybe I'd come up with theories that people would remember.

Janey moved another box into my bedroom and I decided it was time to break the silence. I followed her into my room and shut the door.

"I'm going to miss you," I said with a couple tears in my eyes. "I don't want to leave you behind. But this is something I have to do. I can't stay there anymore. I can't take the fighting anymore. I can't take Dad anymore. I need to get out."

"It's not that bad," Janey said in a low voice. She stared at the floor and twisted a strand of her hair amongst her fingers.

"It's not that bad for you because they shelter you from what goes on. But believe me, they fight. Dad tears into mom all the time. He might treat you great but it's only because you're his little girl still. I'm not and he stopped treating me like it a long time ago. It's time I left."

Janey sighed. I saw her eyes droop when she looked around the box-filled apartment.

"I'm going to miss you too," she said.

"We're not going to be far apart. I'll see you all the time, I swear. I'm not gonna just leave you behind."

"Okay."

"You know, I remember when Lydia moved out. You were so happy," I said with a smile.

"We both were," Janey said. We both laughed.

Lydia didn't even come out to help move boxes. She said she had to go buy books for school. I know she didn't have to though. School didn't start for a few more days for either of us. She was starting her last year at the same university.

"Girls, your dad is here with another load," Mom called from outside my bedroom door.

"We better go help," Janey said.

Before she could go, I grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. After a moment, she pulled away, giving me a half smile with shiny eyes. We just looked at each other. Suddenly, Janey started to giggle.

"What?" I asked.

"I was just thinking. Remember when we were painting Lydia's old room a few years ago?" Janey asked with a smirked.

"Paint fight!" I said. We started laughing until there were tears in my eyes. "I can't believe we actually had a paint fight."

"Mom was so mad at us," Janey said with electricity in her face and voice. "She said Dad was gonna ground us for life when he found out."

"But then she helped us clean up so he would never know." I said. I smiled as I thought of her protecting us. She hid all the paint-covered clothes before he got home and cleaned up the mess.

"Girls, come and get more boxes," Mom called. We headed out of the bedroom and followed her towards our dad's black SUV.

"What took you so long?" he asked and began grabbing a box out of the back. My dad towered over me with his muscular arms and handed me the box. His blonde hair was striking against his reddened fair skin.

"They were giggling about something secret in the bedroom. I could hear them as I moved stuff out in the living room," Mom said with a smirk and bright brown eyes.

"We were just having some fun," Janey said and smiled at me.

"You know what would be fun?" Dad asked us with a grin, "We could all go out for pizza after this at the arcade. Play some games. Janey and I can see whose better on Dance Dance Revolution." His eyes had become vivid with excitement at the idea.

"I love watching you try and bust a move on that thing, Dad!" I said and began giggling.

"Hey, I'm good at it!" he said with a big smile on his face. "Ha, not as good as me," Janey said with a laugh.

"We'll see tonight," Dad said and winked at us.

"I look forward to being thoroughly embarrassed in public," I laughed and rolled my eyes.

Although it was embarrassing having your forty-something year old father dance with animation on an arcade game, it was also hilarious. My dad could be hilarious at time. He could be hard. He could be scary. But he was definitely fun too. It just never lasted.

"Okay, let's get these boxes upstairs," Mom said. She smiled but her eyes were unenthusiastic.

We each grabbed a box and quickly followed her. Janey and I secretly smiled at each other from behind them

Later that evening, my family and I went to Fun Palace. It was a large warehouse-like space. The walls, which stretched up to the exposed but dark painted ceiling, were puke yellow intermixed with murals of people dancing, snowboarding, playing hockey, and other games. To the right were two lines of red booths in an L pattern. In the middle of that 'L' were tables and chairs, most of which were filled with trays of half eaten food needing to be cleared away. Beyond the booths were several fast food restaurants. There was a pizza place, a burger place, and an ice cream place. It was like a small food court that you'd find in a mall. To the left was the arcade part. There were rows of every arcade game imaginable from video games to simulation games, foosball and table hockey to ball toss and pinball.

Mom and I sat in one of those sticky booths as we ate our pizza. Her eyes were tense and her forehead wrinkled. She kept peaking on my father out of the corner of her eye. Dad and Janey were on a snowboard simulation game. They were moving their hips and arms about as if they were really snowboarding. My dad was very animated and throwing his arms out to balance himself.

"They're really going at it, aren't they?" I said.

"Uh hmm," Mom replied. She turned her eyes away from them. "I know it's pretty embarrassing. But I don't think anyone is staring, Mom," I said.

Mom looked around and noticed a couple kids laughing at my dad.

She cringed. "I don't know about that sweetie."

"I guess you're right. It's kinda hilarious though. Just look at him trying to act like some pro-snowboarder. At least they haven't gotten to the dancing game yet," I said.

"Oh, but they will. That is your father's favourite game," she said. "I know, but whatever. You don't need to be embarrassed, Mom. It's not like they're laughing at you."

Mom smiled. "You're growing up to be a very smart girl, you know."

I blushed. "Thanks."

"Moving out is a big step though," she said, her eyes getting more serious.

"I know. I can't say I'm not nervous, but I think it's gonna be great. I mean, I'm an adult, Mom. I'm a university student. I can do this."

She smiled and her eyes glazed over for a moment. She looked up at me. "You were always the one who got the good grades and did all the school activities. I remember when you were in that play in Grade eleven. I wasn't sure you'd get the part but you did. And you were great as Titania in A Midsummer's Night Dream. I was so proud."

"Thanks, Mom." I sighed. "Dad said I could have been better though. He said I wasn't passionate enough." I remembered his deep tone of voice as he told me that. His eyes were dark and piercing. "He was just going through one of his moody times."

"You always do that," I said. My brows tensed.

"What?" she asked.

"Defend him." I felt like I had just placed an anvil on the table with my words.

She looked me straight in the eye. "I'm not defending him, Annalyn. But he is your father and you need to respect him."

"What about me? He doesn't respect me," I said quick-voiced.

"Stop that. Your father works hard. He gets moody and tired from going on all those business trips and dealing with potential buyers. We just need to accommodate him. You know that."

"Mom—" I started to say when she gave me a purse-lipped hard-eyed glare. I fell silent.

"Oh look, Lydia is here," Mom said and smiled.

Lydia was just heading in the door. She was wearing black dress pants and violet blouse. My mom waved her over to our table and got up to hug her.

"I'm glad you could make it, sweetie," Mom said. The two of them sat down at the booth.

"Dad was pretty insistent when he phoned me. I couldn't get out of it," Lydia said with a sigh.

"We're glad you came," Mom said with a cheery tone. "You should order some food."

"Ew, arcade food? I don't think so. This place is not somewhere I'd want to eat food at. The table is probably crawling with germs and grime." She cringed as she looked at my pizza.

"Don't be so uptight," I said.

"Leave me alone," she replied with glaring eyes.

"Girls, we didn't come here to fight," Mom said "You've been together a whole two minutes. Can you really not go that long without being nasty?"

"Oh, and thanks for helping me move," I said to Lydia. Mom gave me that purse-lipped hard-eyed glare again. "I was busy. I work, you know. And school starts in a few days. I needed to be prepared for my classes," Lydia replied with a smirk. "That's crap. You could have helped. I work too," I said. I felt the fire in my eyes.

"Oh right, at the bookstore. Yes, that must be so important," Lydia said with scoff in her voice.

"Stop it right now!" Mom snapped.

I looked down and frowned. After a moment I looked up again to find Lydia sneering at me. I glared at her for a second and then smiled at Mom, who softened her voice.

"Lydia, why don't you go say hello to your father and Janey. They are over on the snowboard game." Mom said.

"No, they're at the race car game now," I said.

"Oh." Mom sighed. "Well, go say hi, Lydia."

"Yeah, sure," Lydia said.

She walked away from the table and I sighed with relief. She walked with such brisk that the perm in her short brown hair bounced. "Annalyn, I don't like it when you two fight. You always instigate it. You could be nicer to her. It's hard for her with all the pressure from school and work at the bank. Being a teller is not easy," Mom said. "Neither is working at a bookstore with customers complaining at you all day long," I said.

"It's different for you. She's older so she has more responsibility and stress."

"I don't understand that. Why do we automatically assume she has it harder just because she is older? She hasn't had to live at home in our dysfunctional family for the last three years."

"Don't!" Mom yelled in a whisper. "Our family is fine. There is nothing wrong with us, and you have no right to complain. So just stop it and enjoy the evening. We all worked very hard today moving boxes for you. So just stop and be happy and nice. I don't want your father to see the way you've been behaving."

I took a deep breath and felt my heart clench in her invisible fists.

"I'm sorry," I said in a low voice.

"Why don't we see if your father and sister want to quit playing games and come join us?" Mom said. Her voice had become soft again. She turned around to look for my father and I glared at the back of her head. Keep my father happy. Keep the family together. Keep everything looking good and normal. This was her motto. At times, I felt like I got in the way of her keeping the peace. I always managed to disappoint Dad in some way and that made things harder for her. Dad had to be happy. That was her number one goal in life. I knew she loved me, but I wanted to be her number one goal in life. I wanted to be the first priority for once. Even though she loved me, I was rejected and left in the shadow of my father and his volatile nature.

Suddenly, I saw Janey storming over here. "Dad's pissed," she said. "Lydia said this place sucked and he lost it."

"I'll go talk to them," Mom said. Her eyes twitched a little and she took in a deep breath and then headed off.

I could see my father's red face from where I stood. He shouted at Lydia, waved his arms around and kept pointing at her. I couldn't hear much of what he was saying. Just things like "you have no right," and "spoiled little brat." I could feel my skin crawling. Several people were already staring. Lydia was yelling back with arms crossed and she was shaking her head at him. He started to stamp his feet when Mom got there. She pleaded with him to stop. Then he dropped his arms and made fists as he just stared at Lydia while she yelled back at him. I didn't know what she was saying. I looked away.

"I won, by the way," Janey said with gusto.

"That's great, but I think the evening is over," I replied. My stomach felt like it was wrenching inside.

"Yeah, Lydia had to come and ruin it as usual. Whatever. We should totally get together tomorrow. I'll come and help you unpack. I know you could use my decorating skills." She smiled though I could see her eyes shifting back and forth slightly. Her fingers trembled a little at her sides.

"I don't know. I might be busy. We'll see," I said.

I watched my mom trying to hush my father. After a moment, he stopped and the three of them headed over to us. Dad's face was still red, his eyes were electrified and his lips pursed. Lydia just kept shaking her head as she walked past us and out the door. Mom's eyes were glossy and red. Her hands were shaking a little. She tried to smile as she approached us but it looked broken and twisted as if she had been sucking on some bitter fruit. My heart fluttered.

"Time to go?" I asked them.

"Yes!" Dad yelled. His eyes bulged.

By the time we got out the door, Lydia was already gone. Dad drove in silence. When he dropped me off at my apartment, my heart jumped in my chest and I felt like I had lost a huge weight off my shoulders.

Later in the evening, I was standing at the window looking at the sun. I could see it setting in between two apartment buildings across the street. Orange glowed between the buildings like copper shining in the light. I felt a sense of satisfaction with the day. The sun descended in the sky and I knew this was the beginning of something. It was the beginning of my new life. I was a university student now. I was an independent woman.

Lexie was sitting across the living room from me and unpacking some boxes. She was a slender tall girl with brown curly hair in a bob and emerald eyes. Lexie and I had been close since childhood. We lived on the same street. We played together. We grew up together. It felt right that we were moving in together. That night I felt as if there was a sense of impending adventure in both our hearts. We were on the road to great things.

Lexie opened another box and half-chuckled, half-sighed. "You really should've marked your boxes better," she said.

"Sorry. I guess I should have put my name on the boxes," I said.

She laughed. "Yeah, it would have been nice. I'm starving. Do you want to order pizza?"

My heart fluttered as if it was frowning. "I had pizza for dinner," I said.

"What about you, Shauna?" Lexie asked.

Shauna went to high school with us, though I didn't hang out with her. She was the star of all the girl's sports teams. She towered over me like a human that could step on a bug and squish her to death. She was a gorgeous black woman with chemically straightened hair that flowed all the way down her back when she had it down. When she heard Shauna was looking for roommates, Lexie convinced me that she was the perfect choice because she'd be able to beat up and robbers that came in.

"We don't really have any food yet for the fridge, do we?" Shauna said. "I didn't bring anything."

"I didn't either," Lexie said.

"Okay, so I guess we need to go get groceries," I said. My eyes brightened at the thought of this being our first task as independent adults.

"It's 9pm. Are the grocery stores still open?" Lexie asked.

"Save-On is open for another hour, I think," I said.

"I'll go," Shauna said.

"We need something sweet for tonight. Maybe ice cream. Double Chocolate ice cream," I said a couple seconds after Shauna had left.

"Run and tell her." Lexie smiled.

I ran to the door and yelled "Double Chocolate ice cream" down the hall to Shauna. She nodded with a big smile. I walked back into the apartment and felt a sense of awe. The boxes were starting to get unpacked. The couches and tables were now in place. It looked like home. I sat down and unpacked another box.

"So I met a guy," Lexie said. I looked at her with eyebrows raised and we both smiled.

"Tell me about him," I said.

"Well, he's a little older but in a distinguished-hot sort of way. He's actually a professor at our school. But he's not my teacher, so it's okay."

"You're thinking of dating a professor at our school?" I said. I gave her a wide-eyed look and felt like my eyebrows were up to my hairline.

"Maybe. I was at the bookstore and he came in looking for a copy of Crime and Punishment. He looked so sexy with that dark hair laced with silver strands. We talked for a bit. Or more like, we flirted for a bit."

Lexie worked with me at Thrifton Place Books. It was an independent bookstore. We got paid a dollar more than minimum wage. We also got discounts on books and I loved to read. I worked there full time in the summer and now that I was back in school I would be working weekends. It was enough to pay rent. I was lucky enough that my father paid my tuition.

"How old is he?" I asked.

"I could tell he's really intelligent."

"Uh Huh." I looked at her smile and my heart crushed inside. "You can't date him, Lexie. What if you end up taking his class someday?"

"You're no fun. So, what about that guy you're dating. Are things going anywhere with him?"

"Jessie?" My cheeks went warm. "I like him. He's sweet." "Tell me more."

"Well, last time we went out..." A smile grew on my face. "We kissed a little. And it was nice."

"Aw, that's so great."

"I really like him."

"I can tell. You blush every time you talk about him. It's cute."

"I'm not cute." I said dead-toned.

"You really are!" I threw a couch pillow at her, just missing her head. We both laughed. I thought about Jessie and felt a sense of warmth over my body. I pictured him all sweaty in his track suite after his daily run. His wet hair would be almost black against his Irish skin. On our first date, he wore a black cord blazer over a navy button-up shirt. When he held his hand across the table, I ran my hands over the corded jacket and felt its texture on my finger tips. He smiled and my heart fluttered. I felt nervous and sticky. He had given me a long-stemmed rose and it lay across the white table cloth as we ate our pasta. Our glasses sparkled with white wine. We talked about high school and laughed. I was his calculus tutor. I got him through the big tests so he could stay on the basketball team. Other than that, we never paid much attention to each other until a few weeks before university started. We started talking at a mutual friend's birthday dinner. Suddenly, we connected with this electricity between us that had never been there before. We also talked about his family. He was first generation Canadian. His family immigrated to Canada from Ireland. He had a sister that was a few years younger than him. When he spoke of her, his face softened and I felt a spark of desire inside me. I thought he must have been a very sensitive and caring person.

At the end of the date, we kissed for the first time on the front steps of my house and I felt this tickle inside of me. He was gentle. As he got close to me, his touch was warm and he ran his finger across my cheek. Then he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't a long or overdramatic kiss. But for those few seconds, I felt alive. My face felt irradiated after. I can remember smiling, but not completely. The left side of my lip was upturned as I tried to hide the grin that was growing inside of me. Then we said goodnight and I went inside my house.

The first thing I did after was duck into my room so my parents wouldn't come and bother me about it. They would ask all sorts of questions about him like they did with all my previous boyfriends – not that there were many. I went to bed right away so they would think I was asleep and forget about their need to know all about their daughter's boyfriend, at least until the next day when I managed to elude their questioning again. It was something I was good at. I'd pull out a book and look too busy to talk. I had no idea if they liked me dating or not. They gave away none of their thoughts. Both of them were very matter fact about all of it. I couldn't read them. And it didn't matter because they never got in my way. Maybe they trusted me. I don't know. Or maybe Dad was secretly threatening my boyfriends when I wasn't in the room. It was something he might do. They never said anything though.

"So are you seeing him again?" Lexie asked.

"Tomorrow night we are going to dinner at that Italian place on Third Street."

"You'll have to tell me all the details. You can always bring him back here. We'll stay out of your way."

"Uh, no. I don't think so. It's a little too soon for that."

"I guess it is for you." She smiled.

"I'm not a prude, you know," I said.

"I know you aren't. You're just shy and sweet and you take your time with things. I think it's endearing. I respect you for it."

We shared a smile and went back to unpacking boxes.

When night came, Lexie and Shauna went to this end-of-summer party. I didn't want to go even though Lexie was about to drag me there. Shauna convinced her to leave me behind if I didn't want to go. I just wanted to sit and think. The day had been overwhelming and I felt exhausted. I stared up at the speckles of light in the black sky and wondered what was to come. I suddenly felt flip flops in my chest. I was on my own. I was an adult. I had to take care of myself. What if I couldn't do it? There was this sinking feeling in my stomach as I sat there on my bed and gazed into the world outside my window. I had been waiting for this moment for years and all of a sudden I was drowning in my own fears of failure. I had never failed. I couldn't fail. But I was scared to death that I would.

Chapter 2

On the first day of university, I sat in the middle of a lecture hall and counted the masses of students around me. I started with the bottom row and counted about twenty seats. Then I counted about twenty rows. Four hundred seats that were seventy five percent full meant that I was sitting in a room with three hundred people. It was bigger than my graduating class in high school. I was surrounded by them and they were chattering like bumblebees humming in my ears. I felt dizzy. I couldn't fathom how a teacher could teach that many students in one class.

I kept looking at my watch. I felt a nervous twitch in my stomach and my ears were vibrating with the noise. I could hear conversations around me ranging from how this class was taught by "Professor Boring" to worries about getting through a three hour lecture. I shared that person's concern. I couldn't imagine sitting in those uncomfortable lecture seats for that long. There was a little triangular table attached to each seat. As I put my notebook down on it and got ready to take notes, I realized how awkward this lecture hall was going to be, especially for an avid student like me that would insist on taking notes of every single thing the professor said.

Looking at my watch for the fifth time, I started getting antsy sitting there. The conversations around me were starting to get irritating. The students sounded like they were hyped up on caffeine as they spoke loud and fast. My forehead was sweating. I breathed in and out a few times as my mind went over the importance of doing well. I had to get at least a three point seven five grade point average just to make it onto the Dean's List. I had to accomplish that because it would look good to prospective graduate schools to have "Dean's List of Distinguished Students" on each semester of my transcript. I needed an A minus average. I kept telling myself how do-able that was for me, a student that graduated with honours from high school. I had never gotten less than an A on anything except physical education. Now that I had a choice about what to take, I would never take anything involving athletics. The professor walked in and my rambling mind stopped, as did my breathing.

I had trouble seeing the professor as he stood below the rise of seats at the front of the room. Suddenly, I could hear a wave of shushing all around as he stood there waiting for the room to quiet. He was a man with grey hair and a round stomach. He wore a loose sweater vest that made him seem even older. I couldn't remember his name. I was so nervous that I couldn't even remember what class this was. I was scared to death that I was sitting in the wrong classroom.

"This is Psychology 100. Is everyone in the right place?" the professor spoke. His tone of voice was stern but worn sounding. "Alright, I'm Professor Masterson."

He seemed to sigh a little. He turned around and wrote his name on the whiteboard in red marker. It was kind of hard to read from halfway up the classroom. He wrote down all his details like office hours, phone number, and email. I quickly jotted them down, straining my eyes to see what his scribbles had written.

"There is a handout going around with your Course Presentation on it. You will find a brief introduction to the course on it as well as the assignments, and the plagiarism and cheating policy here. I suggest you read it all carefully. I'm not very forgiving about ignorance or stupidity in this class. If you don't know it, it's your job to find out. If you don't come to class, do not come to me asking what you missed. Yes, you missed something important, and no I am not telling you what it was. Find a classmate that is willing to share with you. This course is graded on a curve, so I suggest you don't get too eager in helping out your fellow classmates."

My stomach was quivering. Grading Curves? I was supposed to hope everyone in class did horrible so I would get the top grade. I was a peer tutor in high school. I helped people. I didn't compete like this. Now I had to hide my notes from others so they didn't steal away my A. I suddenly realized if people were better than me I would fail! My stomach trembled more as my eyes gazed at the whiteboard. I kept reminding myself that I graduated with honours.

"There will be two exams in this class: A midterm exam worth thirty-five percent and a cumulative final exam worth thirty-five percent. Twenty percent will be your term paper and the other ten percent will be various assignments due throughout the term. On your course presentation, you will find the details of your term paper. I suggest you get started on it now. There is a lot of research to be done. If anyone does not know how to look up academic journals, ask the librarians. Does anyone have any questions?"

I wondered if twenty percent was a lot for a paper in university because it was in high school. I also had never written anything as long as twenty five hundred words before. And these twenty five hundred words determined twenty percent of my grade. It was like overkill. I felt like throwing up.

The three hours turned out to be brutal. I had trouble making it through the whole three hours with only a ten minute break in the middle. I ran out to the coffee bar down the hall and got the biggest size they had. It didn't matter that I would have to go pee for the next hour and a half. I needed it. My brain was numb from all the stuff he was going over. It was too much information for one class. I couldn't imagine how I would remember it all. Everything seemed so big, so important, so overwhelming.

At the end of that class, my brain was twirling in thoughts of Freud, who sounded like a crazy man with his psychosexual stages and penis envy and all that cocaine addiction. Jung and collective unconscious also seemed weird. I didn't know what those psychology people were thinking back then. I shook my head and walked out of the lecture hall seriously needing a bathroom break from the extra large coffee.

As I walked down the hall, I could hear all the gossip about the professor. Supposedly, he marked hard according to a friend of a friend of this one girl. And he didn't like people to be late or talk in class. He would call you on it right in the middle of his lecture. I learned later that the gossip was all true. Professor Masterson had a knack for making you feel mortified for interrupting him.

I finally reached the bathroom and found Lexie inside refreshing her lip gloss.

"Hey!" I said. I relaxed into a smile.

"How was it?" she asked. Her voice was a bit tense.

"I thought it would be different. Smaller. Less jammed with information. Less strict. I heard my teacher is a jerk," I said. My eyes felt tired and strained.

"Who is your teacher?"

"Masterson, PSYC 100."

"Look him up on ratemyprofessor.ca and see what people think of him. I already did it for all of mine. Supposedly two of them are put-you-to-sleep boring, and the other three are interesting but strict as hell."

"So how was your class?" I asked.

"Boring as hell. Three hour classes are murder. I literally was falling asleep. Doesn't help that it starts at eight in the freaking morning!" Her eyes were bulging as she shook her head. Her face was all clenched up.

"Yeah, I know." I sighed.

Her expression changed. She face softened. "Hey, I'm sure it won't all suck. We gotta give it a chance. What's your next class?" Lexie said.

"ECON 120." I said in a dull voice.

"Now that should be boring. Why are you even taking economics?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I want to broaden my scope. I don't know what my major will be yet."

"I guarantee you, it's not gonna be economics. I've heard it's very mind-numbing."

"Whatever." I shrugged and sighed.

"Hey, I'm sorry. Look, it'll be fine. It's just the first day and that's overwhelming."

"I hope so."

"I know so. Come on, let's get lunch. You can tell me about the date you had with Jessie the other night. We never got to talk about it yet." She looked at me with eager eyes and a big smile.

Lexie and I walked over to the White Spot on campus in the next building. It was nothing like the actual restaurant chain that had a nice cozy atmosphere and old pictures of the drive-in restaurants it started out as splattered across the wall. This one was more like a fast food spot in the mall. There was a backlit sign across the top that showed pictures of various burger combos. You could see the kitchen through the little slide they send the burgers down on after they are made. Instead of wearing white uniforms and big chef hats like in the commercials, they wore white t-shirts that had the white spot logo on them and black pants. The cashiers at the front wore the same thing, except theirs weren't stained with food. None of the staff was warm and cheery like the waiters at the real restaurants.

I got the legendary burger with added cheddar cheese and bacon along with fries and root beer. Lexie got a garden salad with tomatoes, cucumbers, red peppers and balsamic dressing. It took about five minutes to get our food, much like any fast-food restaurant. Then we went and grabbed a table by the window. It was the only one around because the dining area was filled with students, some of which were studying by themselves, others were chatting in large groups.

The dining area was full of tables and chairs like you'd find in any cafeteria-like setting. It wasn't just for White Spot. There was a general cafeteria adjacent to it. The tables and chairs were black and many of them had trays of food garbage left on them. Next to the dining area was a wall of windows that looked out onto the track field below. There were tons of guys running laps.

"Well, this is a nice view," Lexie said when we caught a glimpse of them. "Anyways, onto your date. I want to know more."

"It was okay. We went out for pasta. The food was great. It's this little family-owned Italian restaurant. I recommend the place," I said.

"Yeah, not really what I was getting at," she said.

"It was a nice evening. I really felt like we connected. His eyes are so beautiful. I just want to stare into them." I gazed off into my memories as I thought of him. My cheeks felt warm.

As we sat at dinner in the little Italian restaurant, I did stare into his eyes as he talked. He liked to talk a lot. It was not in a bad way though. He was just a cheerful and interesting person who had stuff he wanted to share. He talked about hockey. He was an enthusiastic hockey player in an amateur league. He invited me to see one of his games. I told him I would come to the game on the weekend. And he talked about his job working for his parents. They ran a funeral parlour, as morbid as that sounds. He talked about what it was like to deal with death all the time and how it didn't bother him. But I admit I wasn't listening so much as watching. At one point, I felt like I was actually drooling over him. I just hope he didn't notice the goofy grin I had on my face as I peered into his green eyes.

"He's a nice guy," I continued, "I really like him. But I don't know." My voice went flat. "Things were okay. I've just been thinking that maybe I don't have time for him." I looked down.

"What do you mean you don't have time?" Lexie asked. "Honestly, you can't just swear off guys to focus on school. You'll go crazy without one. You need love. I know you. You get lonely." She put her hand on mine and smiled with a nod.

I smiled at her with a head-tilt. "I have you."

She shook her head. "You need a guy. It'll be good for you. Just promise me you'll give Jessie a chance." She looked at me with serious eyes and didn't say anything more.

I watched her and felt as if she were searching my soul with her invading stare. Perhaps she was looking for the truth in my eyes, for honesty. I did like Jessie. I did want him. But school was so important. It was my priority. How could I betray the needs of my brain for my heart? My face felt warm and flush as I thought of him. His eyes were green like hers but darker than emerald like an evergreen. As she stared into me, I saw his eyes. My heart fluttered and I felt it beating faster as I remembered his hand caressing my own. His feathery touch was so gentle against my skin.

"Well?" Lexie said.

I smiled at Lexie. "Okay, I will," I said. My natural smile quickly faded and I forced a fake smile onto my face.

"Good. Now let's eat, I'm starving." Lexie dug into her salad and put her fork in a piece of each different vegetable.

"I'm not. I don't know why I ordered so much food. I really don't have an appetite today." I looked at the food with a sour expression and pushed it away.

"It's just nerves. You should eat. It'll make you feel better."

"Yeah, I guess." I sighed.

"You're so down today. Was it really that bad of a class?" She asked.

Her eyes oozed with warmth as she gazed at me. Her eyes were unblinking when they stared into mine. I almost teared up a little but I blinked and swallowed then forced a smile. She tilted her head and frowned.

"I don't know. I'm just... Have you ever felt like you were drowning?" I asked.

Maybe she would understand. Maybe she could tell me why I felt so terrible because I didn't know the answer. I felt like I was over my head in water. I kept thinking about almost drowning in the lake. I remembered how peaceful it was giving up. I wondered what it would be like to do that now. Life felt like a constant struggle of wondering whether or not to let myself fall deeper into the water where things are calm and comforting but dangerous, or keep going, keep struggling through life. I had to walk the line between that feeling of comfort that came with giving up and the hardship of fighting each day to live and succeed. As much as I wanted to succeed, something was always there pulling me back. It was like a part of me never left the water that day. That part of me was constantly questioning whether or not life was worth it. Usually I was strong enough to keep going, but there were moments when my drowning-self came to the front and made me question everything I believed in. Maybe drowning was easier than success.

Lexie looked perplexed. "Like overwhelmed? Because we all get overwhelmed. It's a big day. It's to be expected."

"It's just that I don't know if this is gonna work out. It's too much. And I'm not that smart." I looked down.

It didn't matter that I graduated with honours in high school. As far as I was concerned, I was an inadequate and incompetent person trying to look like I belonged in a world where people worked hard to make something of themselves.

"You are smart," She said. I looked at her with skepticism. "You are. Trust me. I know you. I've always known you. You get through things. You get me through things. You're smart and capable. This is just a tiring day. You'll be fine. Don't worry," she said. I might have been convinced if I were someone else.

"You're a good friend. Thanks. I just hope you're right. I have this terrible sinking feeling that I'm not gonna make it." I swallowed hard and sighed. My eyes felt tense but I tried to relax them and look fine.

"Yes, and I told you it's called nerves. They go away. I think we need to get drinks tonight." She smiled and nudged my shoulder.

"That might help. I don't want this." I pointed to my burger with a look of disgust. "I'll just see you back at the apartment."

"Okay." Lexie's smile faded.

Lexie and I sat in the bar across the street from the university. That night it was filled with students talking and drinking to their first day of school. I could overhear a lot of complaining as well. There were mixed feelings about school starting. Some people were excited. Other people were dreading it.

As I sat in the bar, I took in the crowded atmosphere. It was a fairly big bar with two floors and a spot for a live band. There was no band that night and I couldn't hear the music too well amidst all the chatter. There was some hollering coming from the corner where several drunken college boys were laughing and obnoxiously hooting at some scantily dressed women that were playing a game of pool while they flirted with the boys. I turned my attention back to Lexie.

"Cheers," Lexie said holding up her peach-coloured bellini to me.

We had both used fake IDs to get into the bar. Something Lexie convinced me to get that summer. I hadn't used it until that evening though. Now that I was an adult living on my own, I felt like going to the local bar was a good thing.

"What's the occasion?" I asked with skeptical eyes.

"To being adults, to being free from our parents and our annoying siblings, to the chance at life," she said enthusiastically with a smile on her face.

"I'll drink to that but I just hope it all comes true," I said in a low voice.

I held up my strawberry margarita and tapped it against her glass. The tinging sound rang through my ears and brought up a sense of hope and misery at the same time. There was so much possibility, yet the possibility for so much to go wrong. I was confused. I didn't know how it would turn out. I was afraid of the uncertainty.

"Cheers," we both said with a smile.

"So, how was economics today?" Lexie asked with a twisted smile.

"Hah, you were right. It was so dull!" I said laughing off my disappointment. I could see Lexie biting her tongue to not say 'I told you so.'

"What about your afternoon course?" I asked her.

"I didn't have one actually. I went home and unpacked some more," she said looking accomplished.

Most of her boxes hadn't been unpacked yet. Mine we're already done and my things were neatly in their place.

"You're lucky. The girl in front of me actually fell asleep in class. That's how boring it was," I giggled as I thought about what happened next. "The instructor told the girl next to her to shove her awake. I may have been behind her but I could see her face turn cherry red. Poor girl. It was the only fun part of class though." We both giggled.

"So, did you talk to Jessie today?" she asked with curiosity in her eyes.

"I was gonna ask you about the professor actually. Did you see him around campus?" I asked.

"Hah, I don't think so. We're talking about you first," she smirked.

"No, I didn't talk to him," I said as I sipped my margarita. The strawberry taste felt sweet on my tongue. I loved the cool iciness in my mouth. It soothed the minor headache I had from that day. I don't think getting up early after a summer of mostly getting up at noon agreed with me.

"Well, when are you gonna talk to him?" Lexie pushed.

"I'm waiting for him to call," I said laying my eyes on my drink as I stirred it up.

"You could call him, you know," she said, tilting her head at me.

"True. Maybe I'll call him tonight." My face felt warm as I talked about him.

He romantically indulged me the other night as we sat at a quaint family-owned Italian restaurant eating pasta over some white wine. The food was delicious. I ordered gnocchi in a creamy red sauce and he ordered linguini in a white sauce. I wanted to try some of his so he graciously let me eat some off his plate. It was a bit messy reaching over the table with my fork and I dripped some sauce on the white table cloth. I felt red-faced but he just smiled and moved his plate closer to mine. He was such a gentleman.

Jessie had also brought me my favourite flowers, blue irises, in a little bouquet with a purple bow tied around them. I think he asked Lexie for some pointers, though I didn't actually ask him. Instead I kissed him on the cheek and thanked him, my face blushing. He also knew what my favourite chocolates were. When he first brought them out, I felt a bit mortified until he giggled and told me how cute it was that I liked Kinder Surprise even at my age. I told him that I always gave the toys to my little sister, but secretly I kept a little collection of the toys in a decorative wooden box on my dresser. He insisted I open at least one egg and see what the toy was. It was a little tiny puzzle. We both put it together, laughing the whole time, and found that it revealed a cute little cartoon bunny. When I got home I saved the puzzle and put it in the drawer of my night table. When I needed to smile after a difficult day of school, I just opened the drawer and my face lit up as I remembered how sweet he was.

After our date, we had our second kiss, not counting the peck on the cheek I gave him when he gave me the flowers. It was more tender than the first, our lips feeling warm against each other as my whole body tingled inside. I wanted to invite him inside the apartment so badly, but I didn't because it was just too soon. So I said goodnight to him and admired his handsome physique as he disappeared down the hallway of the apartment building.

"You should call him," Lexie insisted with a smile. "After the way you gushed about him after your date the other night, I definitely think you need to call him. He is a good kisser after all."

"You only know that because I told you," I said feeling my face get warm. I took another sip of my drink as Lexie smirked.

"Yes, and it's an important detail nonetheless," she said.

"You're making my face turn red."

"I can totally see that," she laughed with radiant eyes.

"So, the professor?" I said with a smirk. It was my turn to get the details.

"Oh, I haven't seen him. Unfortunately, I don't think it's going anywhere. He never did ask for my number and it's a pretty big campus," she said. She didn't seem too disappointed though. I could see her staring past me towards the bar, her eyes electric and her face glowing a pink hue. "There are other guys I have my eye on anyways." I slowly turned around to see who she was looking at. A cute guy with blonde curly hair was smiling at her.

"Go talk to him," I said smiling.

"You don't mind?"

"No. Go. I'm gonna go freshen up anyways," I said, even though I secretly wanted to watch how it went with her and the cute bar guy.

"Okay." Lexie smiled and walked up to the guy, her heals clicking on the floor as she walked in that hip-swaying sexy way. I chuckled a little and then headed off to the washroom.

I walked down the dimly lit corridor and turned the corner to find a girl all over some guy. She was wearing a slinky emerald dress and strappy heals. He had a hand in her long curly black hair and another one caressing her light brown shoulder. I laughed a little to myself, thinking they should get a room. "Mmm.... you're such a good kisser," the slutty girl said pulling out of the kiss.

I tried to look away as I walked past them into the washroom. But as I pushed the door open, I saw a glimpse of his face and my own flashed red and hot. It was Jessie. My heart stopped for a moment and I quickly rushed into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I felt so stupid in that moment. The guy I had just been gushing about was making out in the back of a bar with some girl in a slutty dress.

Suddenly my heart began to pound as tears flooded my eyes. I really liked him. It kept repeating in my head over and over. I liked him. I really really liked him. He was sweet. He was romantic. He was making out with another girl right now and I trusted him. I swooned for him. I felt stupid. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to cry. I took a deep breath and went and looked into the mirror, swallowing hard as I saw the redness in my eyes. A couple tears slipped down.

We never said we were exclusive and we had only been dating for a few weeks. Maybe I was completely over reacting to the situation. Could I really be mad at him for this? I was. I couldn't help it but I was furious. He didn't care about me at all. And now I was stuck in the dirty bathroom of a bar, too afraid to go out and face him. Maybe I could slip past him, I thought.

All of a sudden the bathroom door opened. It was sleazy girl. I wanted to go over there and slap her as she pulled the spaghetti string strap of her dress back onto her shoulder. She smiled as she walked over to the mirror and grabbed her lip gloss out of her dainty little black purse. I could see her eyes wandering over to me with a look of disapproval for my completely underdressed apparel. I was in a pink camisole and blue jeans. There was no cleavage, nothing fancy or sexy about me. And now, here she was, the slut who made out with my guy, staring me down. I didn't know what to say at that moment. I knew I should say absolutely nothing and walk out of there right then and there. But I was frozen in the moment.

Suddenly words just slipped out of my mouth. "It's hot in here." Why did I say that? She just looked at me and then back to the mirror, smooshing her lips together to even out her red lip gloss. Then she walked out of the bathroom briskly, letting her heals click loudly on the tile floor. I let out a deep breath as she left. I should have smacked her. No, I couldn't do that. I never would have the guts to do that. I looked back into the mirror and saw my pathetic face and knew it was time to have another drink so I walked back to my table, luckily not seeing Jessie on my way out. That would have been too mortifying. I couldn't face him.

"Hey," Lexie said as I sat back down. I gave her a forced smile as I waved to the waitress. Lexie looked at me with those concerned eyes as I ordered another strawberry margarita, this time a double. "What's going on?" Lexie asked.

"I just need to drink," I said plainly as I stared at the floor, my eyes fuming with rage.

"I know you a little better than that. What the hell happened back there?"

"Sleazy bitch over there happened," I said pointing to the same girl who had just joined Jessie at the pool table. She was draping herself all over him as he chalked up his pool cue.

"What an ass!" Lexie said harshly as she watched them. "I'll be right back."

I wasn't going to stop her. I secretly wanted to go over there myself but I didn't have the guts. I would never have had the guts. But Lexie would never let anyone get away with hurting her best friend. I watched her from across the room as she went up to him and grabbed the beer out of his hand and splashed it all over him and slutty girl with fury. He looked so confused until I caught his eye. I could see him utter 'damn it.'

"Let's get out of here, Jessie," sleazy girl said as she gave Lexie a dirty look. His face was still stunned as the girl pulled on his arm.

"Just a minute," he told her and pulled out his wallet and put a green twenty and a purple ten on his table. They quickly left, the girl's eyes glaring at everyone while Jessie's eyes looked down.

"Ass!" Lexie yelled out at him as they walked through the glass doors and disappeared into the darkness. She quickly headed back to our table as a buff looking man who I figured was a bar staff headed towards our table with a displeased look on his face.

"We're going," I said as I put some cash down on the table and we quickly left before he came any closer. The piercing look in his eyes was daunting enough. I didn't even want to know what he was like to talk to.

"Sweetie, I'm so sorry. Are you going to be okay?" she asked as we reached the car.

"I don't know. Seeing you pour beer all over them definitely helped," I said with a slight laugh, despite my sorrow.

"He's an ass. He deserved it."

"We never did say we were exclusive though," I said meekly. I don't know why I was making excuses for him.

"It doesn't matter. He's a jerk. A real guy doesn't go around with sleazy bitches hanging all over them while they are dating another girl," she said, her eyes dark as she shook her head.

"Thanks." My eyes drooped and felt like they were drowning in tears that I refused to let fall. I swallowed and got into the passenger seat of Lexie's car.

"Are you gonna be okay, though?" Lexie asked, her eyes soft and her forehead wrinkled as she looked at me.

"Yeah." I took a deep breath and held it for a moment. I felt a burning in my gut but I wasn't gonna let any tears fall.

"Do you wanna go somewhere else instead of just going home to mope?" she asked me.

"No. So what happened to cute guy at the bar," I asked, forcing the corners of my lips to upturn.

"Oh, turns out he was there with a girl. She wasn't too happy when I showed up at the bar and she found out he had been making eyes at me all evening."

"Ouch. What a player."

"I know. God, guys can suck so much!" she said as she drove. I could see her eyes rolling as she shook her head.

I sighed. My guts still felt all twisty inside. As soon as we got home that evening, I let myself fall onto the comfy blue couch as Lexie kept making me giggle with all her jokes about bar slut and some other people that were at the bar. Shauna was there and she got some coolers out of the fridge and handed me one.

"You know, I think I've seen her around before. She was on campus with a professor. They were in a quiet corner and she was definitely flirting with him. She certainly gets around. And what she was wearing! God, I mean seriously, do people really need to wear lacy tops with no bra at school?" Lexie ranted on playfully. I giggled as I took a sip of the lemony white Smirnoff Ice as it cooled my throat. Soon I found myself drinking it down quickly.

"She isn't the only one to flirt with a professor," Shauna joked. I instantly laughed, choking on my drink.

"Shut up," Lexie said as she giggled and threw a couch pillow at Shauna.

After an hour and a couple shots of tequila and that cooler, I decided I was too tired to stay up any longer. "As much as I love you guys, I think I gotta get to bed," I said as my head swam.

"You're no fun," Shauna said.

"I'm plenty fun!" I said in a tipsy whine.

"Goodnight, sweetie," Lexie said, totally understanding that my head needed to hit the pillow as soon as possible.

As I dove in bed, I felt the room spinning. I sprawled out and stared through the narrow slit in the curtains at the stars. I don't remember much else.

My head throbbed as I awoke the next morning. As the light shone through the curtains into my bedroom, it stung my overtired eyes. I sat up and gasped in a big breath as I yawned. Getting up, I nearly fell as I stumbled over my feet.

"Ouch," I muttered. "I hate morning. Mornings are my enemy." I let the words mumble through my teeth, my mind swimming in a groggy haze.

I wanted to get back into bed and bundle up under the covers, my head hidden from the world. But as I looked at the clock, 11:57, I realized I was going to be late for my class at noon. In a panic, I quickly got dressed and grabbed my backpack. I haphazardly slammed the door as I left the apartment. The older lady next door, who was carrying groceries into her apartment, made a point to give me a dirty look. I glared at her briefly before running down the hall in a dirty pair of jeans and a blue shirt I found in the pile of laundry on my bedroom floor.

I finally got to school after speeding twenty kilometres over the limit. It was 12:25pm as I reached the door to the lecture hall. I took in a deep breath and got ready to slip inside. I opened the door slowly as it made an urking sound. I could see an empty seat on the isle about ten rows down. I walked quietly down the steps and took a seat as the professor talked.

Suddenly, I heard him stop talking. I didn't look at him. I just sat down and pulled out my books inconspicuously as everyone looked towards me. I couldn't bear to look up. I could feel his piercing eyes staring at me.

"Name?" he said in a stern tone.

"Me?" I quivered.

"Name?"

"Annalyn Johanssen," I said in a meek voice.

"Late comers aren't welcome in my lecture. Class starts at 12pm sharp. I don't appreciate or even tolerate people disrupting my lecture. If you want to come back, make it on the break."

My face felt warm as he stared at me. I felt frozen in the moment. I didn't know what to do so I just stared back at him with wide eyes and a deeply wrinkled forehead.

"Did I not make myself clear?" he asked. His voice was brimming with anger.

"Um... I... I'm sorry. I'll go." I could barely speak.

I latched onto my backpack and turned around, rushing up the stairs towards the door. As soon as I made it out, I let out a whimpering sigh.

"Damn it! Stupid, stupid, stupid. I'm so stupid." I didn't know what else to say. There were no words to comfort myself.

A few people walked past me in the hall. I could see their looks as they glanced at my red face. I couldn't even bare to go to the washroom because I'd have to look in the mirror and see how embarrassed my face looked. I could feel the tears brimming on the surface of my eyes. I sucked in a breath and held them back as much as I could. I wasn't going to cry.

I went and sat down on the bench across the hall and twiddled my thumbs nervously as I waited for the class to break. My stomach burned with a queasy hunger. I hadn't eaten anything since the previous night. I hadn't showered and I felt dirty and dragging. I just wanted to get out of there. I sighed and took out an anthropology textbook from my bag. I tried to read it, but the words blurred over. My thoughts were rambling on inside as I thought of Jessie and bar slut, the professor and all the staring students.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, the doors to the lecture hall suddenly opened and out flowed a crowd of students in desperate need of coffee, snacks and a bathroom break. I could see them whispering as they walked past me. A few of them were giggling. Others were shaking their head. After a few minutes I walked over to the lecture hall and peered in. There were about fifty students still sitting there. At the front of the room, the professor was thumbing through some of his overheads. I went and found a seat at the very back of the three hundred seat room and hoped no one had been sitting there.

For the next hour and a half, I tried sitting through the lecture but my thoughts were constantly shifting back to the issues on hand. I felt the sting of emotions rushing through my mind — images of Jessie making out with the sleazy girl in the bar. I crinkled my face as I tried to think of something else. Finally class ended and I rushed out the doors, the first one out.

As I drove home, my mind was drifting from the road. I felt like my dreams were being crushed beneath me. I had been slapped around, used, mortified. I was stupid. I was so completely stupid. I stayed up late drinking instead of preparing for school. I had let myself fall for a guy that was only playing with me while he teetered with his other girls on the side. So stupid. I felt deep shame and simply went home and covered myself up in the bed for the next few hours, my burgundy comforter being my only solace. Something told me that day that my dreams were being rifled away. I knew this was just the beginning of something greater to come.

Chapter 3

I walked down a dark shady path full of gravel and weeds. I could only see my way from the spots of sunlight that shone down through the thick layer of tree leaves above me. I didn't know where I was heading. I just walked into the shadiness. As I took another step, I found myself falling. My heart rushed above my head as my eyes grew wide. I couldn't see anything. Suddenly I hit the water in a loud splashing crash.

I felt the swishing of water as the waves pushed and pulled my body around. The sound was a mixture of crashing and gurgling that loudly invaded my ears. I hardly saw anything. Every time my head bobbed above the water, it was only for a second and then it was back under into the murkiness of the dark blue ocean. I felt lost in it, in the deep blue. I was so busy trying to gasp for air every time I came up that I could think of nothing else. But I felt everything, every sensation.

The water was cold like knives shoving themselves into every inch of my body. I felt my arms thrashing around as I tried to stay above the water. My legs were kicking about. But even though I felt their pain, it was as if they were detached from my body and they had a mind of their own. They were in survival mode and there was nothing I could think to calm them down. They were fighting for my life.

My mouth tasted the salt water as it seeped in and swooshed against my teeth and tongue. I felt my eyes stinging with the ocean against them. I was the sort of person that never opened her eyes under water and here I was trying to keep them open in a panic to survive.

My heart pounded fast and loud. I heard it echo throughout my whole body, making me shudder and want to cry with each beat. I knew my heart was desperate to keep going despite the lack of air. It was fighting hard. My lungs were choking on water and every chance I got I coughed up water and tried to suck in air from the cold windy surface. But it wasn't enough and after a few moments, my mind was starting to feel it. I felt hazy, dizzy, and my mind was drowning faster than I was.

Soon my legs and arms stopped. I didn't tell them to. I had no control over them anymore. They were gone, calm, floating in the water like dead weight. That was what my entire body had become as I started to descend. There was no breath left in me to keep fighting. My body was giving up on me and as I sank into the blueness, my eyes stared out at the rays of light that cut through the darkness of the water. There was something tranquil about staring at the light. Soon it was all I saw. Everything was a flash of white and then darkness. It all went black and I started to panic. I was dying. I was dead. There was nothing left.

I gasped as the choking sensation took over me. I could breathe again. My eyes opened and I saw the shadows surrounding my dark bedroom. I looked to my right and saw the moon shining through the slightly opened curtains. I wasn't dead. It was a dream. A nightmare filled with both terror and a feeling of utter calm in the middle. That night, I honestly thought I was in the water drowning. It was just as realistic as when I was a child. The setting was different. But I was drowning.

Suddenly tears came over me and rushed down my face, the little droplets falling onto my hands. I didn't wipe them away. I just let them fall. It wasn't an uncommon nightmare. It wasn't the only time I thought I had really died in my dreams. It was a long time, maybe years, since I'd had those dreams. It brought back all the memories. They rushed through my mind like a train that felt like it was about to crash into something, into the walls of my mind.

The saltiness of my tears seeped into my mouth and I could taste them on my tongue. I scraped my tongue against the edge of my teeth to get the taste off. But it wouldn't come off. Soon, all I could taste was ocean. All I could feel was being in the water, drowning, panicking, dying.

I started breathing rapidly, sucking in each breath like it was my last. My heart raced loudly in my chest as if it were about to rip right out of me. Dizziness fell over me and let myself fall backwards onto my pillow as the room spun. Tears slipped down the sides of my face and I cringed. I writhed and turned over onto my side and buried my head into my pillow.

I might as well have died that day. I didn't know why I was thinking that. I didn't know why I felt like I should have died, but I did. There was some awful beast that had appeared inside of me the last few days and it was taking hold of me.

I looked up at the moonlight as it crept into my room. I tried to centre myself on it. I just stared at it while the panic began to subside. I wiped the tears away from my eyes. Suddenly a rush came over me again and I crinkled up my eyes and fought the tears away. My eyes burned as the tears tried to overtake me. One by one, they made their way out of my tightly shut eyes and rolled down my cheek. I couldn't help it anymore. I was crying again. I had been a mess the last few days and I really didn't know why.

There was a quiet knock at the door. My eyes grew wide. Whoever it was would see that I had been crying. In a panic, I began rubbing my face with my bed sheets. I swallowed against the lump that had formed in my throat and took in a deep breath.

"Yes?" I whispered nervously hoping it wasn't Shauna. I didn't want her to see me like this. I hardly knew her at all. She definitely didn't need to know I was a cry baby as well as the nerdy book-worm she already thought I was.

The door opened and through the moonlight, I could see Lexie smiling as she walked in. She shut the door softly behind her and came and sat on my bed.

"Are you okay?" she asked with a warm smile.

"Yeah. I'm fine. What's wrong?" I asked trying to shrug everything off.

"I could hear you whimpering from my room. Were you having a nightmare?" she asked as she put her hand on my trembling hands.

"Yeah. I was."

"Oh." She frowned. "Was it the drowning nightmare again?" She could read me so well. She had been my best friend since we were in grade four when she had saved me from the mean bully Tanya who loved picking on me at lunch time.

"Yes. I don't know why. I just am so..." My eyes watered, brimming with the moist saltiness as it threatened to fall.

"It's okay. You can tell me. I've noticed that you haven't been okay the last few days. You can talk to me." Lexie squeezed my hand gently.

"I should be stronger than this. I'm being an overdramatic cry baby and I have no idea why." I wiped my eyes with my bed sheets before the tears could make a mess of my face.

"Oh sweetie, you aren't. It's okay to cry. Things are hard right now. Everything is changing. I can understand you being overwhelmed. There is a lot going on right now."

"What about you?" I asked wondering why she was so strong. It was her first time away from home too and here she was sitting before me like a tall flourishing tree standing still in a windstorm. She was strength. She exuded it with everything she did.

"I'm overwhelmed too. But I'm not alone. Having you here has really helped me get through this. At the end of the day, no matter how hard it's been, I know I'm coming home to my best friend who will be there to make me laugh and feel better and get through all this crap. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you like you've been here for me," she said as her eyes drooped and she sighed.

"No, no. You have been here for me. I mean who is the one that threw that drink on Jessie?" I gave a half chuckle as I smiled a little. "Seriously, Lex, you're a great friend. I need you." I said as I put my hand on hers.

"Good. I'm glad you know you can count on to me. I'll be right back, okay."

Lexie smiled and left the room quickly. A few minutes later, she emerged from the dark. I could see two spoons in her hand as the moonlight left a spark of light on them. She sat down and plunked a cold container on my lap and gave me a spoon. I opened it and dug my spoon in the hard frozen ice cream. As I put it in my mouth, I could taste the triple chocolate melt into my taste buds.

As Lexie dug her spoon in, she turned and looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Where'd all the ice cream go?" she asked. I looked down to see the half empty container.

"It's good when you're sad," I said with a guilty smile.

"You are terrible! I love you but you are gonna regret this after the 10 pounds you put on from it," Lexie laughed as she poked her index into my bicep.

"Thanks. You're so nice." I smiled. We shared a sincere look for a couple seconds. Her brown eyes were like drops of melted chocolate in milk. It was soothing just to look into them and know they were connected to the biggest heart.

"Dig in," she said as she held up the tub of ice cream. I took another big spoonful of the brown ice cream filled with chocolate chunks and put it in my mouth. It tasted serene on my tongue as the chocolate melted into my mouth.

"Mmm... so good," I said with my mouth full of cold creamy ice cream. Lexie giggled as she took in her own spoonful.

"Definitely good." Her voice was muffled by ice cream. Finally we both swallowed down the frozen treat as it cooled our throats. "Okay, I can totally see why you've already eaten half this tub!" Lexie giggled with a high pitched squeakiness.

I watched her take in another spoonful and suddenly I felt so sad. Here she was in the middle of the night with her upset friend when she had a class the next morning. Here she was being so good to me when I'd done nothing to deserve it. I'd been miserable. I had brought her down with me and here we were eating fattening ice cream at 3am.

"I'm sorry." I said bluntly. Her smile dropped into a fearful confusion, brows furrowed and eyes wide as her mouth hung open slightly.

"What?" She asked as she looked into my sad eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm a bad friend, a bad person. A loser really. I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. Everything feels so wrong and now I've gotten you out of bed in the middle of the night to eat ice cream with me while I cry."

I was crying again. I was crying far too much lately. I really didn't know why. It made no sense to me that I shouldn't be happy. I was finally living my own life. But there was this overwhelming doom that took hold of me, invading my insides and pinching my stomach. It felt dark. It felt like it would be my destroyer. But it was a mystery to me. A part of me was afraid to look inside of myself to find out what it was. I didn't want to look into the eyes of darkness, into the void inside me where it took up residence, growing spider webs through my veins.

"No. Don't be sorry. This is good ice cream for one. And two, you are a good person, a good friend. I want to be here with you when you need me. I know you'd do the same." She was trying to convince me but it would never stick. I was filled with guilt that wasn't going to go away easily. Maybe she was right and I had nothing to be guilty for. I don't know. But that night I felt a terrible uneasiness inside of me. I was aching from my guts to my bones and I feared that I would bring her down with me. I feared the darkness was contagious.

"We have to get up early, so why don't we call it a night?" I said turning away from her.

"If that's what you want..." she replied hesitantly as her chocolate eyes stared into me as if in search of my soul.

I nodded. "I think it's best."

I handed her my spoon and she got up and left. At the doorway, she paused and gave me a sincere look before heading away. As soon as the door shut, I broke into tears. I couldn't believe I was pulling my best friend into my own misery. I felt an intense guilt that was eating me up inside. I crawled under the covers and buried myself in them.

My mind was haunted with her image as I tried to sleep. I could see that concern in her eyes. I could feel her sympathy. I felt so disgusted that I let her give me her sympathy. How dare I bring her into this! Who am I to make her sad! Nothing made sense anymore. I felt so alone. So pathetic. I felt like I should die. I would be better off if I had just drowned in my dreams because here I was hurting the people I loved with my sorrow. I fisted my hands around the comforter as I thought of how much I despised myself.

It was 6:36pm according to the clock in my little blue 1998 Honda Civic hatchback. I had just arrived at my parents' house for dinner Friday night. I was feeling tired from school that day. I had an 8am class. After 11am when class ended, I came home and had an hour long nap. I hardly slept though. I tossed and turned as my head ached. The light coming in the room annoyed me. Even with my curtains closed, the light still flooded through the cheap ugly beige fabric that came with the apartment. I buried myself under my comforter and shut my eyes. I wasn't well rested at all when I finally gave up on sleeping.

Soon I would have to spend the evening with my family. I didn't want them to see me so tired. As I sat in my car, I thought about how my mom would worry, my dad would wonder why I'm not more resilient, and my sister, Janey, she would...she would be the only one that understood and sympathized with me. She would be the supportive one. I didn't know at the time if Lydia would be there. I tried not to think about her.

After a few minutes, I decided it was time to go in. I walked up the pathway to our white house with the midnight grey roof and light grey shutters next to all the windows. I noticed my mom peering through the white sheer living room curtains at me. Suddenly she started waving. After a minute, the door opened and there she was with a glowing smile on her face.

"You're here! I've been waiting all week to see my little university student. Come in sweetie," my mom said with sugar in her voice.

"Mom, I saw you last weekend when we moved my stuff to the apartment. It really hasn't been all that long."

"A week is a long time. I'm used to seeing you every day. Now come on in," she shooed me through the front door and then called out. "Janey, your sister is here! Neil, she's here!"

"Seriously, you move out and never call me?" Janey said staring at me with a pout, her arms crossed. Suddenly, her eyes sparkled as she looked at me, as if there was a special twinkle in them reserved just for me.

"It's only been a week—" I started. Suddenly I felt my body bounce backward as my sister's arms hugged tightly around me.

"I missed you," Janey said.

"I missed you too," I replied.

"I hope Lexie has been taking care of you because seriously, you'll get into trouble with no one watching out for you," Janey said as I laughed.

"I'm an adult now, you know. I can take care of myself." I felt my eyes spark with confidence.

Janey laughed at me. "Sure," she said rolling her eyes. "I remember a couple months ago when you set the microwave on fire. Yeah, silly, you can take care of yourself"

"It wasn't on fire. Just the bread was on fire and only because I forgot about the damn wire twist tie." I told her. We giggled when suddenly Dad came storming into the room.

"Yeah, it was a stupid thing to do," he said with loud bitterness. I felt myself sink inside.

"Hi Dad," I said to him with a forced smile. I didn't understand why he wasn't thrilled to see me like the rest of them. Just a week ago he was raving about how I was going to university and was now his grown up daughter. I come home for the first time, even if it had just been a week, and he was already telling me how stupid I was.

"Get your shoes off so we can go eat. I'm starving. The house smells like pork roast and I just want to eat it." He stomped out of the room and into the dining room to sit down. I watched him as he sat at the head of the table and then looked forward in a daunting stare.

"Ew, I hate pork roast. It smells gross," Janey commented.

"Mom, it smells great," I said not realizing she had already made her way to the kitchen to start serving everything.

Suddenly, I heard a whisper in my ear, "Dad's in one of his moods again," Janey said quietly.

"Oh." My eyes drooped as my heart fell to the floor.

I felt doomed inside all of a sudden. Just the thought of having to be around him when he was in one of his moods scared me. One of the reasons I had to escape home so badly was to get away from him when he was like that. And now, my first time coming home, he is in a bad mood again. It felt unfair. Knowing him felt unfair sometimes. I missed being his little princess, not the daughter who was his biggest disappointment.

I glanced back over at my dad. I could see him perfectly as the entrance way was adjacent to the dining room. I realized I should just suck it up and go sit down. A part of me wanted to run though. I wanted to run far away from this. I thought coming home for dinner would be nice. Maybe it would have been a change of pace from the hectic life of school, from feeling crappy lately. It wasn't. I could tell that even from the beginning of the evening. I quickly went and sat down to his left. I made sure I was by the door in case I had to leave. I knew I would never leave, but just in case I got up the guts to do it, I sat there.

"Here we go," my mom said as she brought in a bowl of cooked carrots with a honey sauce on them. She placed them on a hot plate.

"Sit down, Janey," she said as my sister went to help her.

"Maggie, she should help you," my dad commanded.

"Okay, come and get the beans dear," my mom said as she looked down nervously.

"You're not a guest, Annalyn. Go help," he said turning to me with that harsh glare. Sharp eyes. I quickly got up and rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a basket of bread. Janey and I both looked at each other. Her eyes were shining with a frightened gaze.

"Okay girls, we're just about there. Take those out and sit down. This is gonna be a good dinner," my mom said cheerfully, though I could see a nervous tremble in her hands. Her hands always trembled a little when Dad was angry.

We both did as she said and seated ourselves across the table from each other. Mom followed us and sat perpendicular to us around the rectangular antique oak table with a cream table cloth on it. My dad quickly went for the pork roast. He had already carved it up before I arrived. He took a couple large pieces and then passed it on to Janey. Her face went sour.

"I am not eating this. Here, Mom." She passed it on.

"What, are you a vegetarian now?" my father asked her in a harsh tone.

"I want to be." Her voice squeaked a little, her eyes nervous.

"Well you aren't going to be one so take some meat," my father replied as his eyes shot a glare at her. My mom passed the platter back to Janey and she took the smallest piece on it.

Suddenly Dad turned to me. "Well, are you gonna pass those carrots?" he said as if thunder arose from his voice.

"Here," I said after taking a spoonful for myself.

For the next few minutes, we all continued to dish up. No one said anything. I could see my father looking intently at all the food. He was hungry like a beast and all he wanted was to have everyone shut up while he ate.

My mom broke the tense silence. I wished she hadn't. I wanted to keep things quiet. If no one said anything, maybe it wouldn't light the spark inside my father. "So, Neil, how is everything?"

"Fine. The pork roast is a little dry, but it's got good seasoning," he replied with a mouth full of pork. I sunk into my seat with relief. Everything was fine. He wasn't mad about the food. It was one less thing for him to get mad at.

"Annalyn, how do you like it?" Mom asked me.

"Oh, it's great Mom. You are a great cook, as always," I said. The food was good in fact. Mom always put a lot of care into what she cooked.

"I'm glad. So how are things at the university? It must have been a big week for you," mom said with a smile. I glanced up at her for a split second and then quickly stared back down at my food. The image of her forcefully wide smile and eyes trying to hide their spark of fear was etched into my brain.

"I don't know. It's okay—" I started in a less than enthusiastic tone, my eyes looking down at the slab of meat.

"What's wrong with it?" My dad cut in, his voice thunderous.

"Oh, nothing's wrong with it, Dad. School is just, well, it's harder than I thought it would be," I explained.

"It's the first week. How can it be hard?" he asked as his eyes pierced into me.

"There's a lot of assigned reading. And some of the professors are really strict. I just didn't expect this."

"What did you expect? You are an adult now. You got to act like it. No one is gonna put up with your teenage antics anymore. You gotta buckle down and work hard. I did it. Lydia is doing it. She's going to grad school in a year. Why can't you work hard like her?" my dad growled.

My heart felt like it was dropping into an abyss. The tone of his voice cut through me like knives. Suddenly I envisioned myself as a mole trying to escape through tunnels in the ground as large knives were thrust into the tunnels. I was racing for my life as knives jabbed in front of me, behind me, and then through me, dagger into the heart. Game over. The vicious gardener wins. Toss the dead mole into the back woods for coyotes to snack on. Tear me apart, insides and all. Guts ripping.

Suddenly I snapped back into reality and saw my dad staring at me, grim eyes gripping into my throat.

"I am working hard, Dad. I've been getting some reading done every night. It's not a problem. As you said, I am an adult now. I can handle this. Don't worry about anything. I will make you proud like Lydia has," I explained in a calm rational voice as I put my trembling hands under the table to hide them from him.

"Good. I don't need any more disappointment from any of you," he replied as he took another bite of pork roast.

I saw my mom stirring her food around her plate nervously. She didn't take her eyes off her plate.

Janey and I both made glanced at each other from across the table. I felt her kick my foot lightly as she gave me a sad half smile. We both sighed lightly beneath our breaths and went back to eating. There was more silence. I relished in the silence. Silence made people nervous. But to me it only meant my dad had nothing to say. If he had something to say, he would say it. Silence was a comforting change from that.

Suddenly the phone rang. Mom jumped up to answer it.

"Leave it. We're eating dinner," my dad said in a biting tone.

"Neil, I'm expecting Lydia to phone. She went for a job interview today and I want to know how it went," my mom said looking at him expectantly until he finally nodded before chomping on a piece of bread.

"Ask her why she didn't come to dinner," he said with his mouth full.

I felt like I was sitting next to an angry beast. His eyes glared at my mom. I stared at them from the corner of my eye. I don't know why I looked at him at all. It only frightened me more. His dark eyes were piercing. His blue eyes looked like they were turning a stormy colour. I didn't know if that was even humanly possible but I swear it happened. His fair skin contrasted against his dark eyes as he sat there. With his muscular biceps, he could easily snap one of us in half.

After a few minutes, I could hear my mom laughing on the phone. She was smiling. It was a genuine smile. It made me feel warm inside. I wanted her to be happy. But she could never stand up to him. He was too unpredictable. Sometimes she would fight back, but their fights mostly consisted of him yelling at her at the top of his lungs. I couldn't handle watching, being witness to it and yet I was my entire life a constant witness of my father's terror towards my mother. My being consisted of walking on breaking ground and I felt as if any second, I would fall through. At any second, my father would blow up, turn into the devil and take us all with him to hell. I wanted mom to save us, to care about us more than pleasing him, but she couldn't do that for us. Or maybe she just wouldn't do it. I needed her to try though. She never tried. Her priority was him and preventing the chaos he would cause.

Once we had finished dinner, my sister and I helped my mom clean up. My father went out to the back porch and sat there. I wasn't really sure what he was doing just sitting there. I guess he was thinking. He did that a lot. None of us wanted to bother him when he was doing that, so we always just left him alone.

Soon we were finished the dishes so Janey and I headed upstairs to her bedroom. When we got there, I took a seat on her pink bed. Her room was filled with stuffed animals and other frilly things. She still had wallpaper with unicorns on it. I imagined she would want to change that soon. It felt like a shame to me though because when I looked at those unicorns on the wall, I saw Janey.

I looked over and saw a plush white pegasus on her shelf. It was hardly white anymore though. She used to cantor around her room holding it high above her head as she neighed. Then she'd jump up on her bed and hold the pegasus up to the light and tell me it was going to heaven and she was going to jump on its back and fly with it into the light. I told her I would miss her if she went to heaven with her pegasus and she said I was coming too because I had goodness inside of me and the angels wanted me too.

I chuckled inside as I thought of that memory. We never went to church except for a few Christmas Eves when Grandma dragged us all there. God wasn't talked about in our house except when someone wanted to blame him for something. Yet, Janey believed. My eyes watered a little as I looked at the light in the middle of her ceiling. I envied the little girl I remembered. She could believe in something greater. I wonder if, at age twelve, she still believed.

Janey was sitting on her purple beanbag chair across the room from me. She looked up at me with solemn eyes. "That was intense."

"I know. I wish things could be different. I didn't want to ever come back to that." I sat there looking down at my hands. "You know, he never used to do this around you. He used to keep you so innocent. You were his baby and he never wanted you to have to see the pain in the world. I don't know what's changed."

"I've changed. He doesn't like that I am growing up. I am not that kid anymore and he's starting to see it. He realizes I'm not his princess anymore and he's stopped treating me like it." Her eyes looked like they were going to droop to the floor.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted you to see and hear what Lydia and I have had to see and hear all these years. When did all this start anyways?" I asked.

"Honestly, last weekend once you moved out things changed. I don't know what it was about him, but he changed. He's been in this mood ever since. I know he's been in moods like this before, but he always tried to hide them from me. But Annalyn, I was never stupid. I could always see what was going on." I could hear the sorrow in her voice.

"I'm sorry. I should have protected you better." I stared down at the floor.

"You tried the best you could. I really don't know why he's taking things out on me now. I guess now that you are gone I'm the only one left that he can get mad at. I guess he needs someone to get mad at. It's funny," she gave a hollow sort of laugh. "I never really had him yell and scream at me until this week."

"He yelled at you?" My heart ached.

"Yeah. He was mad. I don't think I even did anything. He just needed to yell at someone and I was there. Honestly, I don't even know what he was mad at. He just started ranting and raving about how we're all screw ups. It came out of nowhere." Janey hugged her legs as she sat there. I caught a glimpse of her eyes and they were filled with sadness and guilt. I didn't know why she felt guilty over this.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't your fault. I doubt it was even about you."

"It was just shocking when it happened. I honestly feel like my innocent childhood is being ripped away. I'm growing up and I've grown out of that safe place. I'm almost a teenager now. I'm even getting boobs. Well, that part's good but still." She sighed and wiped the corners of her eyes where the tears wanted to fall so badly. I could see her peering down at her hardly formed chest.

"I'm so sorry. You know, I honestly thought everything would be better once I was gone and that didn't happen. I guess I can never escape it. Things follow you everywhere." I felt lost as I was talking. There was this depressed sorrow that took over me.

"What do you mean?" Janey asked looking up at me.

"Nothing is better. Escaping home doesn't change what home is. And I left you there with him. Maybe I should have stayed and protected you. Instead I left you alone to fend for yourself."

"That's not true. I have mom. And you come home all the time... or you will. It's not your fault, Annalyn," Janey tried to explain to me but I couldn't believe her. It was my fault Dad was taking everything out on her. I was gone. I was his scapegoat and now he had to find another one. Our mother was there, but she would only protect Janey as much as she could. And beyond that, our mother was so busy making him happy that she didn't really work on making us happy. I guess I am bitter about the fact that she cares more about pleasing him than focusing on us. "Annalyn, I'll be fine here."

"It's not just that. I feel like everything around me is falling apart. I feel like I'm falling apart inside and I don't know what to do."

"Is it school?" Janey asked.

"Yes. And guys. And being a grown up. There's just so much, I can't take it all." I rambled on in a hopeless voice. Things felt so hopeless. Everything really was falling apart, I thought.

"But you were so excited about school and being grown up and moved out of the house. What's changed," Janey asked.

"Everything. I've changed. I don't even think I am me anymore. I am just this vessel. This body that lugs itself through each day to survive when really I want to go home and sleep. I don't feel like I am alive at all. I might as well be sleeping."

"But Annalyn, I don't understand why things have changed. It's what you wanted, isn't it?" Her eyes showed her confusion.

"You don't get it. You're too young to understand."

"Don't say that! I am not too young to understand that you are hurting inside and Dad is only making things worse for you. I'm not too young to understand any of that!" Her eyes sparked with anger.

"I'm sorry. I guess I understood how things were when I was your age. It just seems like so much has changed since I was twelve. So much has changed. I was happy enough. I was fine. I was settled. I lived at home, I went to middle school, then high school and got good grades and had a best friend. But things have changed." I felt a deep sorrow sinking into my guts as I talked to her.

"What happened with you and Lexie? I thought you were still best friends."

"We are. She's great. I'm really glad I have her as a roommate now. But sometimes I just feel like I am burdening her with my problems. There is just something wrong with me. I can't understand it. I feel so down, so unhappy. I want to cry all the time. I just put on a happy face because I know that's what people want to see, but inside I am drowning, I am dying. I am turning into nothing. I'm not important at school. I'm not even doing that well. I'm nothing."

"Don't say that. You are my sister. That is something. It's an important thing too because I would be lost without you. I miss having you here. I wish I could move out and live at your apartment," she said. "Then at least I would be able to escape Dad too."

"That would be nice. When you turn eighteen, you can move in with me. We'll be roomies. It'll be great. Things will be different then. They will be better then."

"That would be nice. It's six years away though. It'll feel like a life time."

"I know, and in the meantime I can continue feeling lost and alone," I said just wanting to cry.

"Things will be better soon. It's only the first week of school and of being out on your own. I'm sure it will get better. You have Lexie there at least."

"I really think there's something wrong with me though. I don't think it can get better. How can something get better when it is me that's the problem. I'm broken and unfixable."

"I don't understand why you are saying that," Janey said, looking at me with confused eyes.

"I hope you never get to understand. It's better to not understand how this feels." I looked at my hands again. I noticed I had been biting my nails a bit. I had bit my index fingernail down too far and it started to hurt. The pain in my finger throbbed lightly as I stared at it.

"What's really wrong, Annalyn?" Janey asked in this naive way. I didn't know how to tell her what was wrong. I didn't know what was wrong myself. I just felt so crappy inside. I wasn't sure what was bothering me or what I felt so sad about. I didn't know anything except that inside there was pain.

"I don't know. I really don't know." I looked down, my eyes feeling like they were filling with an intense and dark sorrow.

Janey came up to me and sat down on the bed pulling me into a hug. A few stray tears formed in my eyes. I wiped them away with one hand as we continued to hug.

As our heads met each other side by side in the hug, I whispered to her "I really don't know." I really didn't know. Something was just wrong with me, like a barren hole was forming inside of me and sucking in all of my being into it. Soon I'd be gone. I didn't know how or why, but I couldn't survive that feeling.

Chapter 4

I tossed and turned, twisting myself in the blankets further. I felt like I was being strangled in them. Frustrated, I kicked my way out of the covers and sat up in bed. I wanted to rip everything off my bed, tear it all up and throw it out. I wanted to scream. But more than anything, I wanted to sleep and I wasn't sleeping. It was 5:47am according to my clock that glowed with its red radiating numbers. I really hadn't slept for more than a couple hours and not in a row.

I went to bed at 10:30pm because I really couldn't stand being up any longer. My head hurt with the thoughts that rambled through it. I thought about my father and his beastly stare. I imagined him stalking through a forest, tearing through the trees and ripping apart a poor defenseless deer. He was a monster, he was capable of anything. Or maybe I just thought he was. Maybe I was just so afraid of him that my overactive imagination took control. Honestly, I didn't know what he was capable of sometimes.

I figured going to bed would make all those thoughts of him go away, but it didn't. I was exhausted but I could only lay there with my eyes wide open. Every time I shut my eyes I could see his own eyes staring forward at me, portraying the madness inside of them. I needed to hit my head against the wall just to numb the thoughts. But I didn't. I just lay there wincing at the pain I felt inside as my heart beat fast and loud.

I wasn't just upset about my father even if he dominated my thoughts. I laid there for five hours ruminating about school, men, Lexie, my sisters, Mom, Dad. Every negative thing I could possibly think of had gone through my mind several times that night. My mind has spun out of control. I can't believe I actually thought about hitting my head on the wall. That was a new low. That was how desperate I was that night. Though, at least I still had some restraint.

The next morning I had to get up at 8am for an eight hour shift at the bookstore. I didn't even want to think about how awful it would be to listen to customers all day when I only had a few hours sleep. It was thinking of that which made me get out of bed then and search the medicine cabinet in the kitchen for anything that might make me sleep.

There was a large container of Tylenol in there, probably more than one person would need. Next to it were bottles of aspirin and ibuprofen. I searched behind them and found some cold and flu pills. They might work. I wasn't sure. I couldn't read the label because it was dark in the kitchen and all I had was the beginning of daylight coming in from the window. Turning on the light and having someone wake up and ask me what the heck I was doing searching through the medicine cabinet at 6am didn't seem like a good idea.

I sighed and brought the box of cold and flu pills over to the window to read them under the faint morning light. It was a generic brand. I looked over the package until I found exactly what I was looking for. "Caution: May cause drowsiness." I figured that would work. I took one with a glass of water and put the rest back in the cupboard. I crawled back in bed and bundled myself up in the covers. Staring at the clock, I watched the numbers slowly turn. 6:04... 6:10... 6:19...

Suddenly the alarm clock screamed and I jumped out of bed, looking around. I turned it off with a shudder. It felt louder than usual, more piercing. I took in a deep breath and let it out, rubbing my eyes gently. I stretched out my arms and took in a deep yawn that filled my entire chest with precious air. I looked at my clock, my vision a little blurry from rubbing my eyes, and noticed that it was 8:01. I felt the drug-induced drowsiness pervade my body as I sat there slightly woozy.

My head throbbed as I got up and searched for my clothes. My closet used to be a lot tidier, but in the last week it had become a disarray of clothing just tossed in it instead of being hung up. I dug through the closet and finally found my black work shirt that had Thrifton Place Books embroidered on the breast pocket and a pair of nice black pants. I threw them on the bed and sat down next to them. I really wasn't ready to get up. I let myself crash backwards onto the bed. A few more minutes couldn't hurt. Soon I had was completely in bed and covered up under my comforter.

As I lay there face up, my eyelids felt heavy. I could feel them closing over and over again as I strained to keep them open. My breaths got slower and deeper as I felt the calm of drowsiness sink over me.

My thoughts turned to showering. It didn't matter if I showered did it? I could get away with it, couldn't I? Then I could sleep for a little while longer. I had showered the day before when I got home from school. It was a really relaxing shower. The water bathing over me. Warm. Soothing.

Soon I had fallen back asleep. Instantly I found myself wandering through the hallways at school as fellow students pushed past me in a rush. I didn't know where they were heading. I felt confused though. The hallways were a blur and everything was moving in fast motion around me. I was spinning around quickly and then I started hearing a loud tapping sound.

The knocking at the door pried me out of my sleep. I opened my eyes and looked towards the door. "What?" I groaned.

"It's 8:30am, Annalyn. We gotta get to work," Lexie insisted from outside the door. "Aren't you up yet? We are gonna be late."

"Crap. Hold on. I'm getting up right now." I felt an intense grumpiness as I forced myself to sit up.

I felt a little dizzy this time. I stood up and nearly fell over as I tripped past the textbooks strewn all over the floor. I made my way over to my clothes on the other side of the double bed and put them on. I stumbled a little on my feet as I tried to put my pants on. After a few minutes, I was ready to go. I emerged from my bedroom to see a not so happy best friend staring at the clock on the microwave as she sat at the kitchen table.

"Sorry, I overslept," I said in a whiney but apologetic voice.

"Aren't you gonna brush your hair?" Lexie asked me with baffled eyes and a raised eyebrow.

"Damn it," I mumbled.

"We're gonna be late," she called out as I disappeared into my bedroom in search of a hairbrush.

"I know. I'm sorry. What, did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?" I said in an edgy tone.

"Annalyn, that's not fair. You are the one making us late!" Lexie yelled from the front room.

"Okay, okay. I'm coming. Let's go," I said as I grabbed my purse and rushed past her towards the door, my eyes filled with resentment.

Once we got into the parking garage and arrived at my car, I dove into my large black purse for my keys. I could see the irritation as her brows tensed together and her lips pinched closed. I dug through my purse, my breath feeling stifled by my nerves, and finally felt keys at the very bottom of my purse. Taking a deep breath in, I felt relief at the dangling sound they made as I pulled them out.

"Okay, let's go sunshine," I said sarcastically through my yawn as we got into the car. Lexie said nothing until we got a few blocks away. "What are you doing?" She yelled at me, breaking the silence. "What?" I asked as my eyes narrowed.

"You just ran a yellow." Her voice was sharp.

"So what? I know what I am doing," I said.

"It turned red before you made it past the intersection." The sharpness of her voice shot through my ears.

"I know how to drive!" I snapped.

"Why are you so tired anyways?" She asked, lightening up her tone.

"I couldn't sleep last night so I took some Cold & Flu pills. Obviously it backfired," I replied yawning.

"What time did you take them?" she said concerned.

"At 6am."

"Seriously? Should you even be driving!" she screeched.

"I'm fine," I snapped.

"Stop!" She screamed. Suddenly I saw a blonde little boy walking across the crosswalk with his mom in hand. He looked at me fearfully as his mom started to pull on him to keep going. She flashed me a dirty look. I felt miserable about it as the guilt pervaded me.

"Pull over. I'm driving," she insisted.

"Okay," I said, stunned, as I stared at the mother and child as they made it to the other end of the street. My heart was pounding as I watched them. I couldn't believe I almost hit them. I couldn't believe I was so stupid as to actually allow myself to drive two and a half hours after taking some cold pills. I started thinking that my dad must have been right about what a disappointment I was. If only he could see me now. I felt like a mess. I hadn't even showered. I got out of the car slowly, my body stiff with shock, and passed the keys to Lexie. My heart ached as I sat in the passenger seat and watched the world go by as she drove us.

Six hours into my shift that same day, my mind was swollen with thoughts about the little boy as I put books on the shelves. Suddenly I saw a short stocky woman in a pink polka dot dress making a dash for me.

"I can't find what I am looking for! It's so frustrating. Where are Little Emma's Adventure books? My kid wants one of those books so bad," she asked me in a frazzled tone as her eyes darted around the store.

I forced a smile, "I'm sorry for your troubles, I will look on the computer right now to see if they are in stock." She pinched her lips together as she hovered over me while I looked for it. I couldn't find it and I knew that wasn't going to be an acceptable answer to her. I felt a twinge of nerves and swallowed. "Ma'am, we don't have any of those books in stock. I can order some in for you." I tried to feign confidence as if I was an expert employee.

"That is not acceptable. How can you not have them? There are five kids in her class with those books. Obviously they are popular. I don't know why I came here. I should have gone to The Reader's Emporium." She narrowed her eyes and stomped off.

The Reader's Emporium was a big chain of bookstores, our main competition. Thrifton Place Books was a medium-sized independent bookstore. It was fairly well stocked and had a good deal of customers. People often came to read and have a latte at the coffee bar inside our store. We had become quite a trendy place over the years, especially with the 20 year olds. It was probably because we were right next to the university.

I really didn't hate my job but dealing with dissatisfied customers all day was draining. I much preferred stocking the shelves with new arrivals and keeping things orderly and in place rather than listening to them. Lexie usually did cashiering. I don't know how she could stand it.

"Miss, where is the bathroom?" a man came up behind me. He was so tall that he startled me. It was like turning around and walking into a tall evergreen tree. A little girl holding his hand was squirming uncomfortably. I quickly pointed towards the washrooms which were right next to the coffee bar. The little girl ran off towards them and he sighed and followed.

I looked at my watch and it felt like the seconds were ticking away slower than normal. It didn't help that every time I saw a little boy with blond hair come in the store, I could see the boy I almost hit that morning in my mind. His fear radiated throughout my head. His eyes were terror-stricken and confused. They continued to stare at me as he was dragged off by his mother. Her glare wouldn't leave my head either. It felt like every third customer had a little blond boy following them in.

"Annalyn, There's a group of kids coming in for story time. I need you to help out with that. There's a woman coming in to read some stories," Dan, one of the managers told me. He was a middle-aged man who was quite attractive (especially in Lexie's opinion). He wasn't unpleasant but was rather spacey most of the time. He was quiet and would come and go without saying much or really noticing things. He had his own rhythm and routine and didn't keep in pace with the rest of the store. He kept busy though and the head manager never seemed to have a problem with him.

"Okay." I nodded.

Suddenly a group of eight to ten children that looked like they were in kindergarten came dashing through the store. A few adults came in with them, though hardly bothering to control the little guys as they flooded the store and walked around talking and giggling. Here we go, I thought as I let out a sigh.

During story time, I stood off to the side of the children's section as a woman read aloud a book about some gooey monster going ice skating with other monsters — a rather odd notion to me, but the kids seemed to love it.

As I stood there, I felt like I was being watched. I looked out into the crowd of children sitting cross-legged on the floor but I couldn't see any of them looking at me. None of the parents were either. But I could feel someone's eyes on me. I scanned the room and felt a creepy chill hush over me. Someone had to be there but I couldn't spot them. My heart rushed and I writhed uncomfortably. My palms were sweaty. And then I saw him. It was the little boy from that morning. He was sitting in the crowd staring at me. I don't know why I never saw him before. I don't think he even came in with them, but there he was staring at me. His eyes were glassy looking as if he were a deer caught in the headlights. I looked away in terror.

Turning around, I slowly made my way past a bookshelf and hid behind it. I peered out at him from around the corner. But as I looked, I couldn't see him anymore. I rushed out of the book stacks and looked around for him. I spotted a blond haired boy leaving the store alone. Letting out a breath, I turned around and made my way back to the children's section. The reader paused for a second as she saw me return and then continued reading. I suddenly felt very stupid. She had seen me all panicked and hiding from a little boy, hadn't she? The bridge of my nose felt like sweat was glistening on it. I wiped away the moisture from my face. My stomach felt like it had gone in loopy loops.

"Hey," a voice said from behind me, rattling me away from my thoughts. As I looked up, I noticed all the kids were leaving and the storyteller was packing up the books. I turned around and saw Lexie.

"Was it boring?" she asked.

"What?" I replied, feeling dazed.

"Story time?"

"Oh. Yeah. I guess. I really wasn't paying much attention," I said in a low tone as I stared past her towards the storyteller as she waved goodbye to me. I didn't trust that smile on her face. She had seen me leave story time and now she was pretending she didn't. I didn't know why. Maybe she was gonna tell Dan. I watched her leave with suspicion. "What's up with you? Are those cold and flu pills still doping you up?" Lexie asked.

"Um, yeah. Probably." My eyes dashed around the store. I couldn't see the woman anymore. I didn't know if she had ducked into the back to talk to Dan or if she had left. I walked towards the back and listened for her voice. It was an unmistakable low husky voice.

"Where are you going?" I could hear the faint voice of my best friend from a few metres behind me. I peaked around the corner of the hallway into the manager's office. Dan was talking to someone. I could hear his voice but I couldn't see the person without being seen.

"Thanks so much for coming," he said.

"No problem. I always like helping out," the low husky voice said.

It was her. What was she talking about? Was she telling on me? Was my job in jeopardy? I quivered inside.

"Who are you spying on?" Lexie whispered as she came up behind me, pulling on my arm to go back into the main part of the store. "Shh..." I said and stared into the office. Suddenly the woman was getting up. My eyes opened wide and I froze.

"Come on," Lexie said as she pulled me down the hallway. "I don't know what you are doing, but people are coming." With that, I snapped out of my haze and rushed out of the back hallway into the store and in behind a stack of books. The woman emerged, her red hair glowing like fire under the florescent lights. She headed towards the doors and I could see her disappear through them. My heart was beating wildly. I turned to Lexie, wide eyed in misery, and shook my head.

"What were you doing back there!"

"I think she was talking to Dan about me. I don't trust that woman," I replied.

"Who are you talking about?" she asked me, her voice boiling. "The red-head, the one that was doing story time. I don't know her name."

"Oh, Shelby Curtis. What would she possibly have to tell about you?"

"It's not important. Just stuff," I said, brushing it off.

"You have been so..." she sighed, "I don't know... odd lately. I don't know what's gotten into you. But you can't be acting like this at work and you know it."

"You're still mad about this morning aren't you? We weren't even late."

"I'm not mad about anything. I just don't get what's gotten into you. I mean we are at work and you are gonna get us both in trouble for going around and spying on our guest reader and the manager."

"Just drop it, okay. Let's get back to work."

I walked away briskly not bothering to wait for her to say anything. I was seething with anger. No one seemed to get it. Things were falling apart beneath me as if the floor was cracking open and I was slipping into a black hole. It didn't help that I had my best friend all mad at me now.

Suddenly I saw Dan emerging from the back. He saw me and headed towards me. My stomach was tied up in knots.

"Annalyn. There's some new arrivals. I need you to go unpack them," Dan said, expressionless, before turning around and walking to the back of the store. I couldn't tell if he was mad at me or not. I couldn't read him at all.

"Dan, wait. Did Shelby say anything about story time?" "She said it went well. She'll be back next Saturday for another story time," he said as he continued to walk away.

"Okay," I said as he disappeared into the back. I didn't know what to think so I just went and unpacked books for the rest of my shift. My head was still preoccupied with thoughts of the little boy, Shelby and my job. I could think of nothing else all afternoon.

It was Thursday morning and I had pressed snooze on my alarm three times already. I resolved that I wasn't getting up and finally turned the damn thing off. It was another night of hardly sleeping. I tossed and turned with violent frustration for hours upon hours. I remember seeing the clock at 5am and knowing that I still hadn't slept at all. I was afraid to touch the cold and flu pills after what had happened last time, so I just didn't sleep until about 6am. It had been like that all week.

The alarm clock glowed 9:27am. School started at 10am and I didn't care. I was supposed to be going to English but I couldn't bear to sit there and listen to the teacher's interpretation of Kafka's The Metamorphosis, which I was supposed to read and didn't. Instead, I had spent the week watching mindless television after going to class and sitting there barely paying attention. Lexie had been ragging on me all week about getting up and doing something, but I didn't care. I was mad at her for being such a hag to me on Saturday at work. I didn't tell her this though. I sat with my anger, bottling it up instead. Maybe I should have been over it by then. It had been several days, but I couldn't seem to get things out of my head. I was ruminating about everything.

I stared at my alarm clock and let myself drift back to sleep. The next time I opened my eyes, it was 1pm. I sat up wide-eyed with surprise that I had slept that long. I felt groggier than ever and had a throbbing headache.

I got up and perused the fridge for something to eat, but nothing appealed to me. My stomach felt repulsed at everything I saw. The fridge was half full, stocked with eggs, milk, cheese, and everything else I needed to make a decent meal. I turned to the pantry and looked inside. Crackers, soup, loaves of whole wheat bread, cereal. My stomach churned. I couldn't bear to eat any of it. In fact, I wasn't even hungry, so I closed the pantry doors and plunked myself down on the couch to watch some TV.

I flipped through the channels, finding nothing worth watching. I settled on a Soap Opera. I wasn't one to watch them, and I hadn't even seen this one, but there was nothing else on. I lay down, burying my head in the couch pillow and covered myself up with a blanket.

The next thing I remember was the phone ringing. I looked at my watch. It was just after 3pm. I picked up the phone and Janey was on the other end.

"Guess what? There was this geek at school today and he asked me out in front of everyone! I was so embarrassed," she went on.

"That's exciting," I said as I rubbed my eyes with my free hand to wake up a little more.

"What? Exciting. Are you even listening? I was mortified at school today!"

"Sorry. I just woke up from a nap," I said, turning the TV off.

"A nap. Why the heck would you nap at this time? Was school too tiring for you?" she said with a laugh.

"I didn't go," I said in a dead tone.

"What? I thought you had school on Thursdays."

"I didn't bother going."

"What's wrong? You sound upset," Janey changing her tone.

"I'm not upset and I wish everyone would stop asking me that," I replied dead-voiced.

"Well if you are upset, obviously people are gonna ask you that. Now tell me what's wrong. I can help," Janey pried.

"It's just... everything." I sighed and looked at the ground, a lump forming in my throat.

"Tell me. I can help."

"I'm just so tired all the time. I haven't been sleeping. I haven't been eating really either. Everything is repulsive to me. I can't bear it. I just feel like... I don't know. Everything feels crappy. Nothing is turning out the way it was supposed to."

"How were things supposed to turn out?" she asked innocently.

"I was supposed to love school, be a straight A+ student. I was supposed to be making friends and having fun and enjoying life as an adult with no parents around."

"And that hasn't happened?"

"No. I hate school. I hate life. I have all of this crap. I just need to escape. I feel so—" I choked on my words as tears began to stream down my face, "I feel so unhappy. I just hate life so much. I might as well be dead."

"Don't say that," Janey exclaimed.

"But it's true. I mean what is really worth living for? Nothing. I have nothing."

"You have me. Isn't that enough?" she said. I think she was getting angry, but I couldn't tell. I couldn't decipher anything anymore.

"If I didn't have you, I don't know what I would do. I wish you could live with me."

"I do too. Why don't you come over and hang out with me?" Janey asked.

"And let Dad see me like this? I don't think so."

"You can pick me up somewhere and we can go hang out," she pushed.

"No, no. I don't want to bring you down. I'm such a mess. I wouldn't be any fun to hang out with."

"That's not true. I can make you have fun," she said with an upbeat tone.

"No one can make me have fun, Janey. It's pointless even trying," I whined.

"Stop saying that. I don't understand why you are so upset. I'm just trying to make you feel better and you aren't even trying. You have to try in order to feel better. And you're not. So there you go. Feel like crap then." I heard the phone slam down and a dial tone quickly followed.

I swallowed my tears and hung up the phone. I lay down and turned the TV back on. There was some talk show on. It was something about paternity tests. It didn't appeal to me, but the remote was on the coffee table and I didn't want to lift my arm up and reach for it. Instead, I closed my eyes, listening to people crying and ranting on the TV.

Suddenly, I started to cry. I don't know what it was. I just cried. I wailed and sobbed violently. I slammed my fist down on the coffee table, and immediately yelled "ouch!" and sobbed some more. Honestly, I couldn't stop. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I just wanted to die. I pulled the blanket over my head and buried myself in it. I didn't want the world to see me, even if no one was in the apartment. I was so ashamed of myself.

I lay there like that for hours, eventually falling into a numbed state where I felt nothing. I didn't even bother pulling the blankets off my head until I heard the door being unlocked. I realized I was a mess. I quickly ran to the bathroom before the door opened and locked myself in there. The sight in the mirror was shocking. I realized I hadn't even brushed my hair that day. The fact that I had buried myself in the couch cushions and a blanket didn't help the look. My eyes were still a little red and puffy from crying.

"Annalyn?" I heard from the other side of the door.

"I'm busy!" I yelled, more harsh than I had meant to.

"Okay, but I need to use the bathroom," the voice said innocently.

"Shauna, you're gonna have to wait!" I screamed, shocking myself even. My heart pounded into my chest, my breaths fast and shallow.

"What is your problem!" she yelled back. I put my ear up to the door and heard her walk away. I turned back to the mirror.

"What am I gonna do with myself?" I mouthed breathily to my reflection.

I got out my hairbrush and started to brush out the tangles in my dark blonde hair. I noticed it was a little greasy at the roots and then remembered I never bothered to have a shower when I got home from school yesterday. I looked towards the shower. It never looked as unappealing as it did right now. I couldn't bear the thought of water rushing over me, of getting wet and having to be cold once I turned the shower off. I stared into the mirror for a few minutes, a sorrow-filled expression on my face.

After a moment, my haze was broken by the sound of talking in the apartment. I held my ear up to the door.

"She won't let me in. There is something wrong with that girl, Lexie," Shauna remarked with disgust in her voice. I felt rancid about myself in that moment.

"There's nothing wrong with Annalyn. She's just adjusting to things. I'll talk to her," Lexie said. I heard her coming towards the door. I backed away from it.

"Annalyn, what's going on? She needs to use the bathroom. She's got work in an hour and she needs to get ready," Lexie told me. I could see the doorknob twisting. "Can you unlock the door and come out."

I did what she said and walked straight past her, not even looking at anyone, and went into my bedroom. She followed me in and closed the door behind her.

"What's wrong?" she said in a sympathetic tone.

I sighed. "Nothing... everything... I'm not sure." I said in a whiney meek voice as I felt like my whole body was drooping to the ground. I stood there and stared out the window.

"Obviously something is going on with you. I just want to help. Let me in." She walked up to me and put her hand gently on my shoulder.

"I just feel crappy lately. I don't know why. It just feels like everything is going wrong and no one understands. They all think I should be happy and enjoying things. But I'm not. I'm incapable of enjoying anything. And what's worse, I made Janey angry at me today. She yelled at me and then hung up on me," I said in a low tone.

"Oh, Annalyn. I'm so sorry, sweetie. But she's just a kid. Of course she isn't gonna get it. How can I help you? You gotta let me know." She looked at me sincerely, her chocolate eyes melting in warmth.

"I don't know."

"Are you mad at me?" she asked, frowning.

I looked away. "I was. I'm not now."

"I'm sorry. I should have been nicer to you at work this weekend. But you know how I am when I am working. I get so flustered about trying to do a good job and make all the bosses and customers happy that I lose sight of the people that really matter."

"I know you're sorry. It's okay. I'm not really mad anyways."

"Then what is it?" she asked gently.

"I really don't know, okay. Please stop asking me that because I don't know the answer and it only makes me feel worse when I have to think about it," I replied, my eyes filled deeply with sorrow.

"I'm sorry. Maybe if we go out tonight, you can get your mind off things."

"Where would we go?"

"The pub, I guess. I know you have school in the morning, but we don't have to drink a lot or stay out late. We'll just have some dinner."

"Okay," I said, my voice lacking in any enthusiasm.

"Good. Now let's get you ready," she said as she took a strand of my hair and put it behind my ear. "When Shauna is done in the shower, you can go take one."

"I don't know what to wear. I hate thinking of what to wear," I whined.

"I'll pick out something while you have a shower okay," she smiled at me.

"Okay," I said, still not very enthused by her plans.

"Are you sure you wanna have another drink?" Lexie asked me as we sat at the pub by campus.

I started feeling naked against her judgments as she stared at me. I had been drowning my sorrows in booze all evening and I could tell she had her opinions about it. I knew she was thinking that I was some messed up friend she needed to fix, that I was falling apart, that I was an embarrassment to her for sitting there depressed and drinking while everyone else around me was having fun. Worse, Shauna was starting to think things about me. She thought I was crazy and screwed up. I just knew she was telling everyone. Soon they would start to talk. There would be gossip. I definitely felt naked.

"Lexie, stop being my mom. If I want another drink, I should be able to have one," I said as I ordered another vodka cooler.

"I'm just saying you have school tomorrow morning," she chided.

"And I'm saying I don't care!" I exclaimed. She looked around. "No one is staring. There's nothing to stare at. I'm sorry I embarrass you," I said, my voice low and harsh.

"Maybe we should leave. You're obviously not having a good time."

"I already ordered my next drink. We can go once I finish it."

"Okay." She looked down at the table and fiddled with one of the beer coasters.

There was dead silence. I think she was getting nervous. She wasn't afraid of me, she was afraid for me. My behaviour was getting worse and more uncharacteristic as the days went on.

"Here you go. Can I get you anything else?" the waiter said as he put the cooler on my table and a glass of ice. I shook my head, no smile on my face, and began pouring the cooler into my glass.

"Would you like anything else," he said, turning to Lexie.

"Can you just get our bill," she said.

I glared at her, my eyes piercing into her. As soon as he left, I spoke up. "That was rude. You don't know that I was done."

"As your friend, I am telling you we are done. Obviously drinking this much has a negative effect on you. You've just gotten more irritable with each drink. I wish I hadn't suggested we come here."

"Don't judge me. Why don't you just go if you don't want to be around me," I said, my eyes feeling as if they were on fire.

"Then you'll have no ride home. I'll wait." She had a lot more patience than I had.

"Fine." I turned to my cooler and began sipping it, the chilled peach coloured liquid feeling soothing against my tongue. It didn't take long before I had finished it.

"Okay, let's go." Lexie said as she left her share of the bill on the table.

I pulled out two purple tens out of my wallet and left it for the waiter. I could hear Lexie sighing as she grabbed her purse and briskly headed out the door. I followed her, my face sour and looking down. I kicked a few rocks as I walked towards her car. Then I came across a larger rock. I stopped and like an angry child, I took a big swing of the leg and sent it hurling several meters ahead. It hit Lexie in the calf. She turned around and just stared at me. I had never felt such a piercing stare from her before.

"Never again!" she yelled.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"We are never going drinking again!"

She turned back around and got into the car, slamming the door shut. Suddenly, I felt an intense guilt burning a hole in me. I sat in the car feeling as if it would burn through my whole body. I glanced at her a few times, feeling the shame in my behaviour. I looked down at the ground and spoke meekly. "I'm sorry." She looked at me, her face turning soft. She could never stay angry at me. Instead, I knew she was scared.

"I know."

The rest of the car ride was silent. I could tell she didn't want to say it anymore than I did. She didn't want to say that I was heading for trouble, that things weren't okay. Like me, I think she was afraid I wasn't going to be the same after that.

Chapter 5

It had been an unpleasant week and the sorrow was gnawing inside my stomach as I lay in my bed, the burgundy comforter swallowing me up. I didn't want to open my eyes. There was no point. Somehow, the world didn't seem important enough for me to actually uncover my head and look out.

I could hear talking in the distance. I assumed it was Shauna and Lexie. I didn't know what time it was but I figured Lexie had just gotten home from work at the bookstore. I was scheduled to work that day but I called in sick. Dan wasn't very happy with me but I let my voice fall flat and raspy as I spoke, making it all sound more convincing. Then I flopped back in bed and lay there, sleeping off and on and making a couple bathroom trips, for what must have been nine hours if she had just gotten home from work.

I admit, the time had gone slowly and felt rather torturous. But getting out of bed seemed like a worse choice. I can't explain why. There was just something fearful about the world outside of my covers. It felt like dread was waiting for me out there. But in reality, dread was sitting inside my whole body that entire day, every day, and it pervaded every part of my life.

I hadn't gone to school all week. It was just too much to bear. The idea of sitting in class, of having to expend the energy to sit, listen and take notes, to get dressed and shower before hand, to drive there, heck to get out of bed at all, was too obnoxious for me to even consider. So I lay there, occasionally getting up for bathroom breaks, for watching TV, and for taking endless amounts of Tylenol and Advil to make my headaches go away. So I let the world go by without me.

I rarely ate a whole meal. I couldn't stomach it. I would eat half a piece of dry bread, being too tired to actually make it into a sandwich, or I'd just snack on some chips or crackers. It wasn't enough to thrive on, but it let me get through each day without starving to death. I wasn't my plan to starve myself. I simply did not have an appetite. Looking at food was almost nauseating to me. It was unbearable to shove food down my throat. I had to force myself to eat simply so my stomach would stop with the painful hunger pangs.

As I lay there, I could hear the talking getting closer. I decided to get out of bed and put my ear up to the door.

"I'm really getting worried about her."

It was Lexie's voice. I waited to hear a response but there wasn't one. She must have been talking on the phone.

"I just don't know what to do. She barely talks to me about it. She just says she feels awful, but she never tells me why," she said, her voice filled with an edginess, like she was trying to calm a panic brewing inside. "She hasn't gone to school at all this week and she called in sick at work today. I don't think she ever calls in sick even when she is sick. It's all so unlike her."

My headache throbbed as I listened in knowing she was talking about me. Who could she be talking to though?

"Maybe you can get through to her. It seems like the situation is beyond me. I've tried to help her as much as I can, but I can't get through to her. That's why I called you. I'm so worried about her. What do you think?" Her voice was shaky and exhausted.

There was silence for about a minute.

"Okay, thanks. I'll talk to you soon," Lexie told the person.

I assumed she had hung up at that point. I didn't hear anything else after that. I listened for a few more minutes, trying to figure out what her plan was. Soon I heard a door shut. I quietly peaked out of my room and looked around. Lexie's shoes were still sitting by the door. I looked a little further and noticed her bedroom door was shut. I figured she had gone in there. It seemed like there was nothing else to do so I went back to bed, my head dizzy and my body like lead.

I got back under the covers and pulled them over my head. The darkness felt comforting, leading me to a slumber. I may not have been able to sleep at night, but I could sleep all day long. It was a different kind of sleep though. Often I couldn't tell if I was awake and lying in my bed or if I was dreaming it. I'd feel so heavy and I couldn't move or get out of bed. Then I'd seem to drift into darkness again and suddenly wake up to the sound of something and know I was definitely awake.

I would often have nightmares too. They were more vivid and strange than the dreams I had during the night. Maybe it's because I remembered them better. I often dreamt I was drowning. I could feel my body drifting further and further into the murky water and somehow I would feel so much calmer. But then I would be ripped away from the calm by my father yelling. I could never hear what he was yelling about, but I knew it was him. I could see him through the water's surface as if he were a mirage on the other side. Then I would wake up feeling as if I had been ripped apart naked and vulnerable just as if he were there.

That day, I had quickly fallen back asleep and soon found myself in a grassy field. Around me there was long yellow grass. I touched it and it felt dry and harsh on my fingers as if it would give me a paper cut if I ran my finger tips across the edge of each blade. I had been lying down on the ground, rocks and pebbles in my back, when I forced myself up. I started to walk down the field when I noticed I had no shoes on. My sockless feet felt the rough ground beneath them as I walked on. Each step was filled with little rocks and dried grass digging into my feet.

It was not long before I realized where I was. It was near the lake house we had when I was growing up. I was in the field where the trees opened up in the middle of the woods. About half a kilometer north, just through the trees and past the windy road, was our house. I continued walking until I could see it. It was a quaint brown house. I crossed the road and walked down our gravel driveway. There were no cars. I walked up the two steps onto the front porch and tried to open the brown door. It was locked. I felt around in the pockets of my green cotton twill shorts and found they were empty. I decided to walk around back, my stomach fluttering.

As I walked further, I could see the large deck we had that looked out onto the lake. At sunset we would watch the sun glisten on the water as it drew red and orange flames across the sky. By the time I got to the back of the house, night had fallen suddenly. There were no lights on in the house. There was no one around except for spiders in their elaborate webs that were taking over the porch. The house looked lonely, sad even. My parents still owned the house. They rented it out all year long. We stopped going up there when I was twelve and nearly drowned in that lake.

I approached the dock and walked towards the end of it. It was about 10 metres long. As I neared the water, I could see the moonlight reflecting on it. I looked in and saw the silhouette of myself against the light of the moon and felt a shudder down my back. I knelt down and waved my hand through the cold water. My heart raced as I saw something stir below the water. I jumped up and walked backwards as my stomach twisted inside. I told myself it was just a fish.

Suddenly the dock started to rock. The plank at the end buckled and caved into the lake. Each plank after that cascaded into the water. I turned around and ran, screaming for help in a shrill voice. As I took another step, my whole body crashed into the freezing water. I thrashed my arms around as I went under. My eyes were wide open in panic and then suddenly I saw her. It was a body floating in the water, its skin white like ice and its hair streaming through the lake. My heart stopped. The body slowly floated closer to me, rotating until its face was staring me dead in the eyes. I stopped thrashing my arms. I stopped everything as I saw her face. It was me. I was dead and floating beneath the surface with my glassy eyes open and hollow with no life.

I awoke suddenly as someone's hand graced the skin of my shoulder. My eyes felt wide and terror stricken as I screamed out. I saw my mom's shocked face staring at me as I sat up.

"What are you doing, Mom!" I cried out.

"Were you having a nightmare, sweetheart?" she said as she sat down on the bed next to me. Her warm hands swept away the glistening sweat on my forehead.

"Yes," my voice whimpered.

"Why don't you tell me about it? I can make you some hot chocolate and we can sit and talk," my mother said with a soft smile on her face.

"Mom, why are you here?" I asked as a part of me wondered if I was still dreaming.

"Lexie called me, dear."

"What?" I said stunned. Suddenly I realized that's who Lexie was talking to on the phone earlier. She was conspiring against me and I had no idea why. I felt rage inside. "She had no right to do that. I don't even understand why she would!"

"Calm down. She was worried about you," my mother hushed me.

"No. There's no reason to be worried! I am fine. Why can't anyone understand that," I yelled as my eyebrows furrowed tightly.

"Then why haven't you been going to school? Why didn't you go to work today?" she asked me, her voice remaining calm and steady.

"Because I didn't feel well!" I said. "Maybe I have a cold or something. But that is no reason for her to call you. I don't need my mommy to come around and save me every time I've got a runny nose."

"You don't have a runny nose or a cold. You are upset and Lexie called me because she was concerned. I'm glad she called. I've never heard you talk to me in such a vulgar tone before. Obviously something is wrong," mom explained, her voice still gentle and calm.

"No. Nothing is wrong. Why can't people just leave me alone!" I whined.

"Because we care about you, sweetheart. Now let me help you," she said gently. She started to rub my shoulder. I immediately knocked her arm away from me.

"I don't need help. I don't need help! Just leave!" My voice growled.

"Annalyn!" Mom said as her eyes changed from loving to shocked. I never yelled at her like that before.

"Get out of here!" I got up and grabbed her arm, dragging her off the bed and out of my room.

"Stop! Please stop!" she cried out, her eyes wide and tearful.

I let go of her as soon as I had gotten her out of my room, then I slammed the door in her face. I turned around and leaned against the door, letting my body sink into the ground. Tears streamed down my face as my guts twisted up in disgust at myself. I didn't know what had come over me. Everything inside of my head was screaming and I just had to let it out.

My mind was in a constant struggle with itself. I was constantly ruminating about every detail of my life. My mind would chide me for everything I did wrong — for getting Janey upset with me a week ago, for being late for school a few times, for going out in public with greasy hair, for every little mistake I made at work. But it wasn't just me. The world was turning against me just as my mind was turning against itself. At work, the customers have been talking to my boss and eyeing me as they look irate. People were always looking at me. I knew they were gossiping about me as they gave me uncomfortable glances filled with disgust. Shauna hated me. She thought I was weird, strange, a freak. She pretended to be nice to me, but I knew what she really thought. She was going about telling everyone she knew about her freak of a roommate.

The fact that Lexie had called my mother behind my back just further proved that people were really against me. I trusted her more than anyone else and now she was turning out to be a backstabber. I felt intensely betrayed and angry in that moment.

As I sat on the carpet in my bedroom, leaning my back against the door, I could hear people talking. I stopped sobbing in order to listen to them.

"She's quite upset that you called me, but I think you did the right thing. She doesn't look well. Her father gets in moods like this. It's best to just be there for her until she gets back on her feet," my mom explained.

"I've been trying to but she won't let me," Lexie replied.

"I think it's best if I brought her home for a few days to a week or so. After she's feeling better, she can come back here and start going back to school."

"But what if she fails school? She can't keep missing class. I don't think she cares right now but when she does feel better, she's gonna be very upset for failing out of university."

"I'm sure it will only take a week and then she'll be her old self again. As I said before, her father gets like this. They are just sensitive people who get in very deep moods. With her family by her side, she'll be as good as she was in a week." My mom said. I couldn't understand why after she had lived with my father for so long and had seen his moods plummet every few months.

"I don't think she will be willing to go home with you. How are you gonna convince her?" Lexie asked her.

I could hear my mom sigh through the door. After a moment, I heard a gentle knock that made me cringe.

"Annalyn, can you open the door?" Mom asked, her voice soft.

I wiped away my tears and stood up. "I don't want to talk right now."

"I know you don't, but we need you to come out and talk to us," Mom said.

"I've been listening to you. I know your plan. I'm not coming with you. I don't want to live with Dad again."

"He's been good lately, Annalyn. I know he just wants to help you as much as I do. Come out now, okay," Mom said.

I opened the door, my face filled with sorrow, drooping eyes and a terrible frown. I fell into her arms and sobbed. "Mom, I can't do this anymore. Life is just too much."

"Just come home with me and things will get better."

"She's right Annalyn," Lexie said as she gently put her hand on my back. I continued to hug my mom, refusing to let go.

"Come home with me, sweetie."

"Mom, I don't know if I can. I'm afraid of what Dad will think," I whimpered.

"He just wants to help you. He loves you, like I do. Come home with us and you'll see," Mom said in her gentle soothing voice.

"Okay." I let go of her and wiped away my tears.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lexie's teary-eyed face. I didn't know whether or not to be angry with her. I felt confused about my feelings, about everything. I turned around and headed back to my room without saying anything to her.

Mom followed me into my room and brought out a bag from my closet and started packing my clothes. I just sat on the bed, my mind a haze. I stared downwards at the floor feeling bogged down by my emotions and a nervous twinge in my stomach. I didn't know if going home with my mom would ultimately lead to my demise or save me. Maybe she could save me. Maybe she had enough love and nurturance to do that. But my father would be there and I couldn't imagine him doing anything but make me worse. And so I headed off as soon as she finished packing and followed her knowing this would likely be my end.

The feeling of dread churned in my stomach as I walked. But I couldn't turn back. The sadness inside me had crippled me so bad that I couldn't do anything at all for myself anymore. Mom was offering me a way out of my day to day life of being frozen in time, of being swallowed up by my bed for hours on end. I didn't see any other option but to take her hand and follow her. I may have felt scared to death of going back home to where my father was. But I couldn't bear to stay where I was. I had to comply or I would be stuck in that bed, imprisoned by my own mind turning against me forever. And so I walked on.

Lexie stared at me as I left. I said nothing to her. I was so ambivalent about her in that moment that I had no words for her. I just left quiet and solemn.

The stairs looked daunting as they stood before me. I had walked up them a thousand times but suddenly it looked as if I was about to climb a mountain. I was to hike up them. Eleven steps. One at a time I took them, forcing each foot upwards to the next step. My lethargic body wanted to give out after five steps, but I pushed on. I had to make it to my bedroom. I had to get to my bed and pull up the covers until they bundled me up with a tightening sensation of security. A few minutes later, I was doing just that. As I sunk underneath the floral comforter of my childhood bedroom, the intensity within me started to melt away and I was soothed. I lay there in the darkness, my head covered up and my eyes closed, hoping to just fall asleep. Before I could, a knock at the door startled me.

"What?" I groaned.

The door opened a creak and I saw Janey stick her head in. "Can I come in?" she whispered and I perked up a little.

I nodded and she came in, shutting the door quietly behind her. "Why are you being so quiet?" I asked her as I rubbed my eyes open.

"I was told not to bug you, but I just had to see you," she said.

"Who told you that?" I asked.

"Mom and Dad," she said.

"That's crap. I should get to say who I get to see. Just ignore them and come sit down." I felt irritation spewing out of me.

Janey came and sat down on my bed and looked at me with curiosity for a moment. She bit her lip and held it like that for a few seconds. Then she looked past me and smiled.

"What?" I asked her, looking around to see what had caught her eye.

"I love this picture," she said and grabbed a photo off my bulletin board. She showed it with a smile.

"I love that one too," I said, looking at the picture of the two of us on Halloween several years earlier.

I snatched the picture out of her hand and stared at it for a moment. She was four years old and dressed as a lady bug in a bright red costume my mom had sewn. I was a ten year old purple fairy complete with wings and glitter all over my hair. My arm was stretched around her shoulder as I kneeled next to her. Our smiles made me tear up a little.

I remembered that I used to be happy, but somehow that happiness was gone. I couldn't remember how it felt, just that I had felt it before. I knew it wasn't forever ago. It wasn't even more than a few months earlier that I had felt moments of happiness. But now, something inside me was so broken that I couldn't draw up those feelings anymore. I was incapable of feeling them. So as I looked at the photograph, a tear rolled down my cheek and my heart crushed in half from the bittersweet feeling of seeing something I longed for so much.

"What's wrong?" Janey asked as her forehead crinkled.

"I just miss those days," I said.

"You miss being a kid? Being a kid isn't that great. I'm sure if you were one you'd remember and want to go back to being grown up."

"No," I said with a breath, shaking my head. I smiled at the picture and then winced as tears fell. "No, I wouldn't."

"Annalyn, tell me what's going on with you," she asked.

"I just..." There were no words to describe it. I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't know what to tell myself.

"Come on. Tell me. I won't tell Mom and Dad," she pressed.

"I don't know what to say, honestly. There's nothing to tell." I looked into her eyes with my own misery and felt like I was staring a hole through this young girl who knew nothing of these horrible feelings.

"Don't. I know you have something to say. Just say it. I need to know what's going on with you. Don't you trust me?" she asked, her eyes looking as if they were pleading for my trust.

"I do, it's just that it's so huge. At least it feels so huge— the way I'm feeling— that I don't know how to describe it. I just feel so awful, so horrible, so..." I shook my head as the confusion about my feelings pervaded me. "...so unhappy. I don't know why. I don't understand it at all."

"Well, why are you unhappy?" she asked me as if knowing the answer to that question would solve everything.

"I just told you, I don't know why. I don't know why at all and it's driving me insane. I feel like I'm slipping away into the depth of... an abyss. I'm empty. I'm nothing. I'm half dead and miserable and no one can seem to help me. Lexie has tried. Mom has tried. I'm hopeless, useless. Just give up on me now," I slunk down, staring towards the carpet in shame as my face drooped.

"I can help you," she said in a simplistic voice, giving me a poke.

"Don't. You don't get it. You're too young. You haven't experienced enough of the miserable side of life to understand yet."

"Don't you say that to me! I'm not some kid who doesn't understand anything. You of all people should know I go through crap every day. I can't believe you think I'm a stupid little kid," she looked at me as her eyes welled up.

"I'm sorry," I looked down for a moment and shook my head. Then I looked up, dead into her eyes. "You just don't understand."

"That's crap! How dare you say that to me!" she yelled as her face turned fiery red.

"Calm down!" I hushed her.

"No. Now I know there's something wrong with you. Annalyn would never say these things. You come home all sad and no one knows what's wrong with you. I didn't believe them when they said you weren't yourself. Now I know they were dead on. You're not the same person I knew months ago. Who are you? Bring me back my sister," she cried.

"What?" I felt, as I choked at hearing her words.

"I want my sister back. Stop all this stupidness and bring her back! Stop being sad. Stop lying in bed and hiding under the covers and telling me about how you're a hopeless cause. Because you are not! You are not! You are my sister and I want you back!" she cried.

Tears fell down my face. I felt my whole body tense, my mind and face cringing, as I looked at her tears. She didn't understand at all. No one did.

"Look, it's good that you don't understand. It's too much for someone so young to have to know. There are just things going on that even I don't understand. Everything is so mind-boggling. Life is hazy and confusing and a jumble of feelings and stressors and emotions. It's better that you don't get it," I explained. Her eyes grew sharp.

"Shut up. Stop saying all this philosophical crap. I'm not a kid and you just won't hear that. I thought we were friends too, not just sisters. Friends get to know how each other are feeling. Friends get to be there and help each other out. And here you are just blocking me out of your life! Stop it now!" she yelled.

"Janey, quiet. Please. I don't want Mom and Dad to hear. They don't need to know I upset you. They'll just get all weirded-out by it, worry more, spaz more. So quiet," I said.

"It's all about you isn't it!" she said crossing her arms. Her eyes stared into me like a knife pressing into my brain.

"Shh..." I said as I slapped her arm gently.

"No! I don't care if they know."

"Stop it! Will you just shut up before you get me in trouble!"

"Get out of my face!" she yelled, her face a bitter red.

"It's my room!"

She got up and swung the door opened. Just before leaving she turned around and looked at me with tears streaming down her face.

"Just be my sister again!" she yelled and slammed the door as she walked out.

My face fell to my lap as I sobbed

There was a bang on the door that aroused me from my deadening sleep. Suddenly the door swung open and he stalked inside. My father hovered over me and pulled the comforter off my head. I looked up, my nerves quivering inside me.

"Get up!" he yelled.

I did as he said with no hesitation. I felt a little foggy-headed as I sat up. I didn't speak. I looked towards him, but not directly at him, and let my eyes blur over.

"Your sister is upset. I know it was you."

He stared at me waiting for an answer. I didn't know what answer he was looking for, so I just stared back. My heart was sharp inside my chest as it bounced around.

"Well?" His voice echoed in my head.

"I don't know what you want me to say," I whimpered. "I want you to admit what you did!"

"I didn't mean to." My voice was meek and my eyes twitched as if they were trembling with fear.

"But you did it. Now she's in her room crying like a little girl," he said. I looked at the floor imagining the rage that must be in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," I whimpered again.

"What do you mean you didn't mean to? Are you a baby? Are you not in control of your behaviour?" he asked. I felt his interrogation into the depths of my bones.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I cried.

He grabbed onto my arm and shook me. "What is wrong with you!" "Stop it!" I cried.

"No. I want answers. What's wrong? Why are you acting like a sniveling brat? Get out of bed, get back to school and stop acting like a wimp." He stared straight into my eyes. I tried to look away but his grip tightened. I quivered and cowered for a moment and then I tried to pull away.

"You don't get it. You never get it. Can't you just leave me alone?" I cried, as I put my hands up to my face, waiting for him to lash out.

"What don't I get? Tell me, Annalyn!" he yelled.

"I don't know. I don't understand it myself. There's just something wrong with me. I can't help it," I tried to tell him as my voice turned into a breathy whisper. I could feel every muscle in my body tremble.

"You can't help it? How can you not help it? You can get out of bed. There's no reason to lie in bed all day and feel sorry for yourself."

"I told you. I can't. Why can't you ever believe me?" I cried as a frightened rage grew inside of me.

"Believe you? I don't understand what there is to believe. You're acting like a child. I don't think there is anything else to get." "No! That's not it at all. Stop telling me I'm a child. You don't even love me. You never have." I looked down and sobbed.

"Love? This isn't about love, Annalyn. It's about being a grown up. I'm paying your tuition and you aren't even going to school. How do you think that makes me feel? I feel pretty damn unloved and unappreciated."

I kept looking down. I didn't know how to respond to that. I wanted to tell him: So what if you are paying! Money doesn't equal love! It's not about you! But I didn't have the guts.

"Well? You're just gonna stare at the floor? Don't you know what to say?" he chided.

"No, I don't," I said.

"Don't be a brat! I don't even want to look at you," he said with a fierce shake of the head. He turned around and stomped out the door. I watched the pictures on the wall shudder as he slammed the door. "I hate you," I whispered. "I hate you, hate you, hate you!" I didn't know what to do. My feelings were so intense, so angry. I was on the edge of screaming and throwing a fit in that moment. I didn't know how to calm down. I stared into the vanity mirror across the room at myself. My eyes were piercing. I felt like I would tear myself apart with my gaze alone. I hated myself. I hated him. I hated the world. I couldn't stand the intense sorrow and anger inside of me anymore. I needed to do something. I needed to do something now. I got off the bed and stormed across the hall in a rage. I found myself in my mother's sewing room, my eyes scanning the room in a fury. Sharp objects. Painful sharp objects. Lots of them all around me. Needles, pins, sheers... rotary cutter. My world slowed as I saw it. Then I grabbed the rotary cutter off the desk and rushed back into my room, the world speeding up as I did. Everything came spinning around me as I stood there in my room, staring down at my arm. The veins running through my wrist looked striking against the pale flesh. One cut would do it, I thought to myself. One cut to end it all. It just had to be deep enough. One cut. One cut. Do it now! I took the rotary cutter and pressed it down across my wrist and started to roll it to the side. It stung like hell. I cried out. Suddenly I wondered What was I doing? My mind whimpered as cries rung through my mind, reverberating over and over inside the walls of my head. I was so stupid. I was so stupid and now I was gonna die and I wasn't sure if I was ready.

I dropped the cutter. Blood trickled down my hand in a slow run. I stared at it.

"Oh my God. What have I done?" I mouthed to myself. I stood there feeling my head sway as the dizziness took over me. I was stunned at what I had done. All the anger inside of me seeped away as I stood there, a numbness taking over me.

"Annalyn?" I heard a cry at the door.

I turned around and saw the anguish on my mother's face as she gazed at my wrist.

"Neil! Neil come quick!" she screamed as she ran into my room and grabbed the nearest piece of clothing she could find—a pink t-shirt that was sitting on my chair. She pressed it against my wrist and held it there tightly.

"What the hell did you do?" my father yelled.

"Grab the first aid kit, Neil!" she screamed.

I felt woozy as I stared down at my blood. There wasn't that much. It wasn't pouring out like I thought it would. But my hand was covered in dark blood. I didn't feel like I could stand any longer, but I was in too much of a haze to make it over to my bed. I couldn't have been in physical shock. There wasn't enough blood. But I felt so out of it. I didn't feel like I could stand up any longer. Mom must have noticed. Soon she was guiding me over to the bed.

"It's going to be alright. Just lie here," she said.

I lay down on my back and stared at the ceiling in a haze. A moment later I could feel someone prodding at my arm. I didn't know what my father was doing to me. I looked down and saw the white gauze stained red. I wondered why they weren't calling for an ambulance. I thought I needed a doctor. I wasn't sure. Why was no one calling? Didn't they care? I began to feel very confused. Things were foggy after that. All I remember is staring into space as a blur of parents fussed over me.

Some time passed. I wasn't sure how much. It could have been seconds or minutes. Maybe ten, maybe twenty. But I could feel people leaving as I lay there with my eyes shut and my arm feeling as if it had been viciously torn apart. Things began to get quiet, making the pain seem even louder. The rushing around me had stopped. I thought they were gone when I heard a hushed but stern voice.

"Watch her. Don't talk to her. Don't touch her. Just watch her," my father said.

I looked towards the door and he was gone. I noticed Janey sitting there in an wooden chair next to the door. She was staring out the window opposite me. White light bathed over her face. I didn't want to disturb her so I just watched her. She didn't move at all. After a few minutes I realized she was probably afraid to look at me. The whole ordeal must have terrified her. Suddenly an overwhelming guilt sunk into me, into my stomach, into my flesh. It took over me.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see this," I said just above as whisper.

She looked towards me, but not at me. "It's okay."

"It's not. You shouldn't even be in here. You shouldn't have to." "I said it's okay," she repeated.

"I'm sorry," I said again, lost for more words than that. "Stop saying that. I don't want to hear that." Her voice got a little louder, but it still had a whispery quality to it.

"Then what do you want to hear?" I said really wanting to know what to say to make it all okay.

"Nothing. You should sleep. Mom wants you to sleep. They both do."

"Okay."

I bit my lip and looked at her one last time as she looked down at the ground. I couldn't stand to see that glossy-eyed look on her face. I felt so guilty. I just wanted her to talk to me and pretend this never happened, as if talking to her like old times would make this all melt away. It couldn't.

I turned around in bed towards the wall and pulled the covers over me. I couldn't bear to look at her anymore. I couldn't bear to look at the world. So I closed my eyes, my arm stinging like knives digging into it, and I tried to sleep. I couldn't though, but I wasn't going to stop trying. Sleeping was the only thing I wanted in that moment. I needed to melt away into the darkness and comfort of sleep.

Chapter 6

Life was falling apart beneath me, on top of me, all around me. The day had become much more than a wreck. I had tried to kill myself that evening. I had taken a sharp blade to my wrist and drew blood. There was nothing much worse than that, I thought as I lay there in my bed, my covers hiding me from the world but not from the pain inside of me.

As I lay there, I could feel the dampness on my pillow from the tears that had been falling for what felt like hours. I didn't know what time it was but I knew it was night from the lack of light seeping through my covers. The house was quiet. I figured everyone had gone to bed, or were at least trying to be quiet so they wouldn't wake me. But I wasn't sleeping. I hadn't slept at all. There was too much going on inside of my head to sleep. All I could see was the image of blood pooling in my palm. I could only feel pain – physical and mental. There was such anguish inside of me. Sadness. Guilt. Broken dreams of what my life was supposed to have become that fall.

My arm was so sore. The pain was intense and throbbing. I could feel it radiating throughout my entire arm. I had to keep my hand still. Just tensing it even a little made the pain sharper and jabbing. I had it elevated on a pillow as I lay slightly towards my side so that I was facing the wall.

I kept my eyes open to keep out the images of blood flashing through my mind, but I couldn't drown out the sound I was hearing. I could hear a clock ticking as time moved slowly. I didn't know where it was coming from but it was numbing. I seemed to fall into the rhythm of the ticking as I lay there trying to sleep. I could feel the ticking as if my body were in sync with it, as if my heart were beating alongside it, blood pulsing through my arteries at the same rate. It wasn't comforting at all as one might think. It numbed me into a somber state as I drowned in the sound. It was all around me. Tick... tick... tick... I just lay there listening.

Suddenly I heard a grumble. I almost jumped up but as soon as I went to move, I felt the sharp sting of my wrist and lay back. I took my good hand and lifted the covers off my face, first wiping away any tears, and looked over to see my father sitting there in the dark. I could see it was him from the moonlight shining through the open curtains. He seemed to be staring at the moon as he sat there in the same uncomfortable chair my sister had been sitting in earlier.

I slowed my breaths to keep quiet as I watched his face bathing in the moonlight. He swallowed and then looked at me. His eyes drew open slightly as he noticed I was awake. He looked at the ground for a moment, letting out a breath, and then looked up at me. His face tensed as if he were in pain.

"Go back to sleep," he said in a hushed voice.

"I wasn't sleeping. I can't sleep," I whispered, not wanting to wake up the rest of the house as I noticed my clock read 2:23am.

"Wait there," my father said and then got up and left. I sat there waiting for him as my stomach fluttered. I didn't know what he had gone to do. The sane part of me knew it was nothing bad, but the rest of me wondered what horrible thing could be awaiting me. Perhaps there would be a lecture. Maybe he would give me a good harsh talking to about what I had done. But what had he gone to do?

He re-emerged into the room and walked straight towards me with his hand held out but fisted.

"Put out your hand," he said.

I looked at him with worried but curious eyes and did what he said, sitting up and carefully moving my aching arm onto my lap. I held out my good hand and he dropped a little pill into my hand. I immediately put the pill on my nightstand and turned on the dim lamp to look at it. It was small and blue in an oblong shape. I looked back at him curiously.

"What is it?" I asked. My eyes must have shown the shock I felt inside.

"A sleeping pill. Just take it and get some sleep," he insisted.

"Where did you get it?" I looked at him with curious wide-eyes.

"From our doctor. Just take it. It's harmless. I wouldn't give it to you if it wasn't," he said in a stern but hushed voice.

I nodded and put the pill in my mouth and tried to swallow it dry but it didn't make it past the back of my throat. There was a horrible medicinal taste as it started to disintegrate against my spit. I quickly grabbed the glass of water on my night stand that I hadn't even noticed until now. Finally the pill was down and I gulped the entire glass before sticking out my tongue in disgust.

"Why does it taste so bad?" He rolled his eyes at me, not even portraying a hint of a smile.

My father moved back to the chair and sat down. He looked at me and saw that I was still sitting there. He motioned me to lie down. I swung my legs back in bed and lay down carefully, putting my sore arm back on the pillow it had been elevated on. I swallowed hard at the pain from moving it. I wanted to

cry from the pain but I couldn't with him there. I got comfortable and pulled the covers back over my head.

After a moment, I realized I wasn't alone. My father was still sitting there. I knew he was before but I didn't think about it until I had gone to close my eyes and try and sleep. It felt awkward having someone sitting there watching you sleep. It was even worse knowing that it was because he was afraid I would hurt myself again. I had no desire to though. After attempting it the first time, I couldn't bear the thought of doing it again. Not after having parents frantically hovering over me to bandage my arm, and having my little sister sit there feeling hurt and abandoned. Even as I was doing it, I realized it wasn't what I wanted. But it was the first time I really had felt anything other than sadness and numbness. It was terror mixed in with regret and a desire to not die. For the first time, I realized I didn't want to die. And so I lay there regretful and terrorized by the thought of what could have happened, how it could have all been over.

I sighed and pulled the covers off my head.

"Dad?" I said in a quiet voice as I looked at him with longing eyes.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

Suddenly a rush came over me and tears began to fall heavily down my face. I sobbed violently into my good hand as I lay the other painfully in my lap.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I'll never do it again," I pleaded with him, and with myself.

"You should sleep, Annalyn. It will be a lot better if you just sleep this off," he said calmly, though I could see pain written on his face. He was trying to hide it, trying to be strong and cold, but I knew he was in anguish just like me.

"I don't think I can sleep, Dad," I cried.

"Just lie down and let the pill work." His voice was calm but sorrow-filled. I could hear a little crackle in it. He didn't want to cry. He couldn't cry in front of me, just like I couldn't cry in front of him. And I knew that. I felt so bad to be putting him in so much pain, but a part of me was selfishly glad that he must actually care about me.

"Okay," I sniffled as I took a tissue and wiped my nose.

I looked at him one last time and his eyes dropped to the floor. I lay back down, my arm throbbing, and cried myself to sleep quietly.

My head jarred with pain as I sat at the breakfast nook next to my parents and sisters. Lydia had come to join us for brunch at the house that Sunday morning. Mom cooked raspberry pancakes smothered with maple syrup, scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns. My sisters and I were squeezed into the green and burgundy floral window seat to which the table was pulled up to. My parents sat across from us in normal chairs. We had done this for years but when we were small it never felt quite as squishy as it did in that moment.

I stared at my food, my eyes feeling glossed over. I wasn't really looking at my plate, I was just looking down. I couldn't stand looking at anyone in my family. They were all so cheery-looking. I could feel it was fake though. There was a sort of intangible tension hovering over the table like thunder brewing in some dark clouds. They were all chatting about their meaningless events of their meaningless week as I sat there silent. Mom was describing a new sweater she was knitting for her knitting course. I couldn't bear to listen to such trivial chatter while they all pretended there was nothing wrong and nothing had happened. It was numbing my ears listening to them.

My head hurt so bad, I just wanted to get up and take a small handful of Tylenol. My thoughts were swimming with notions of my own mortality and blood. I could see my arm flowing with that crimson red squirting out of it. It didn't matter that I had not cut myself deep enough to hit an artery. My mind still insisted on vividly showing me what it would have looked like if I had. My room was covered in bright blood that had sprayed all over it. It looked more like someone had been shot in the head or the heart than just a slit wrist. My head didn't care. It just wanted to horrify me with 'What Ifs.' I could have died. That was the point and yet it seemed so head-aching, heart-wrenching and frightening. I didn't want to die. I was now terrified I might somehow. Everything felt so grim.

I thought about all the ways I could die just sitting there. What if the wind that morning picked up a little and knocked over a tree that would come crashing down on top of our breakfast nook? Or perhaps there would be an earthquake that would shatter the glass behind my head and a shard would go flying into the back of my neck. Maybe a grizzly bear would happen to come upon our yard after smelling the yummy breakfast and force its way into our house. Of course, it would realize the breakfast isn't nearly as good as eating five fleshy fatty humans.

I cringed. My heart was racing. I felt dizzy. My forehead felt like it was slick with sweat. I needed to lie down but I couldn't because then they would know something was wrong. I couldn't let them know. I was fine. They had to think I was fine. It didn't matter how much my wrist ached or the fact that a trickle of blood had seeped through the gauze overnight leaving a little spotted line of dried blood showing through the bright white. It sickened me to look at the blood. My stomach felt queasy from it and from the pain for which I didn't have anything more than Tylenol and aspirin. I couldn't eat so I just stared at my plate of food, stirring it up and hoping that I didn't throw up from the intense stress, fear, and sight of awful blood both in my mind and on my wrist. I was sick, inside and out.

There was so much tension inside of me that I almost stopped feeling the tension at the table until my sister spoke up. I hadn't been listening but her words suddenly sprung out of the conversation.

"And what about Annalyn?" Lydia asked, looking around the table with her snide look.

"What about me?" I asked waking up from a daze. The room was spinning slightly as I tried to look coherent.

"I was just wondering about how you were doing in school? I mean we're talking all about how I'm doing. I just thought maybe it would be nice if we included the new university student in the conversation. I'm sure everyone is dying to hear how great university has been for you. Certainly it was great when I started. I've been so successful, I just know you will be too. So tell us all about it." She mocked me as she gave me a head slanted look of curiosity.

"You bitch." I let my eyes tear into her as I looked at her with my piercing stare.

"Annalyn, I was just trying to be nice. Why can't you ever be the good sister?" She looked at Janey and put her arm around her. "Like Janey here?"

"Get off me, bitch!" Janey yelled pushing her away.

"Hey! Watch your language," my father warned Janey. His eyes were starting to look angry and agitated.

"Sorry," Janey replied meekly as she swallowed and looked down at her plate.

She moved her fork around for a moment and then took in a bite as if she were dropping out of the conversation. I couldn't blame her for not wanting to make dad angry at her. She had six more years of his terror. I would be back to my apartment in a day or two.

"I just don't understand why we are all trying to hide what happened. I mean, why did you even invite me over for brunch? So I could stare at the freak show over there with a bloody wrist and smile and look pretty, pretending that we are one big happy family? Is that what the point of this was? Because I don't understand how this is working. There's no happy family here. No matter how big of a fake smile mom forces on her face, and no matter how much love she cooks into breakfast, we are not a happy family—"

"Stop it!" Mom cried, interrupting Lydia's speech.

Lydia looked shocked as mom spoke up. Then she shook her head. "Am I the only one who speaks the truth around here?"

Her eyes were glaring at all of us as we sat there silently. Dad was brimming with anger. I braced myself waiting for him to explode.

"Seriously? No one has anything to say about how Annalyn sliced up her wrist yesterday? I mean were you trying to kill yourself?" she asked, turning to me. "Why the hell would you even consider that. I mean don't you care about us?"

"Leave!" a loud roar came. I looked at my father with his red face and popping veins at his temples. He stood up and pointed towards the door as he grabbed onto Lydia's arm and dragged her off her seat.

"Let go of me!" she yelled, pushing him out of the way. She then ran out of the house wailing in a high-pitched cry, screaming 'I hate you' a couple times. I heard a door slam a second later.

"Eat your food," Dad said in a stern voice as he sat back down and started shoveling in his pancakes.

His face was red, his veins still popping. Then he dripped some of the red raspberry juice from the pancakes on his light blue sweater that mom had knit him last Christmas. I could feel everyone's heart stop in that moment. I held my breath as I quivered inside. Suddenly he started screaming out profanities. He yelled them out three or four times before he got up and grabbed a cloth.

"No no. Don't rub it in further. You've got to blot!" my mom said in a panic, tears in her eyes.

"I can do it!" he screamed.

"Neil, you're gonna..." she started to cry. Soon she was sobbing hard. I grabbed a napkin and ran it up to her so she could wipe away the tears. She nodded in thanks.

"Sit down and eat!" my father roared at me, shifting his eyes between me and Janey. I did exactly what he said. I shoveled in my food. I didn't care if I made a mess. I didn't care if I wasn't hungry, if I felt nauseous and just wanted to run upstairs and hide under those inviting covers. I ate because I was terrified. I just shoved the food into my mouth. Janey did the same, tears streaming down her face as she ate.

After a moment of crying, my mom came and sat back down and started to eat. She didn't look at us. She just ate slowly and solemnly, forcing herself to breath evenly without sobbing. Every few breathes she would let out a little sob though.

My dad stood at the island counter blotting his sweater with a gruesome look on his face. After a moment, he sighed and tossed the wet raspberry stained rag across the kitchen to the sink. He sat back down, his face starting to return to normal colour and his veins going back into hiding, and ate his food. No one spoke at all. It was a deathly silence. I felt it cutting through me. I just kept eating with my good arm, my other one aching in my lap, until my plate was empty and then I excused myself to go upstairs. My heart was pounding in my chest as I walked quickly up the stairs. I jumped in bed the minute I got there and covered up myself with the blankets, letting the darkness invade my eyes once again.

I could hear the door to my bedroom creak open. I was about to lift the covers off my head when I heard a loud sigh and the door shutting again. I looked up and whoever it was had left. I got out of bed and opened the door to see Janey walking back into her room. I followed her until I found myself standing at her door.

"Was that you in my room?" I asked her curiously.

"I was seeing if you were awake. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm sorry," she said solemnly.

"What's wrong?" I asked her, forgetting about my own misery for hers.

"Nothing. I'm just sorry is all." She shrugged and sat down at her laptop. It started playing some R&B music didn't recognize that jarred my ears. I sat down on her bed.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked her, looking at her with unsure eyes.

"No."

She kept her eyes on the computer screen. I could see her sending instant messages to some of her friends online.

"You are mad. You are completely ignoring me at this moment. I used to be the most important person in your life and now these people you are instant messaging are more important than talking to me. Yes, you are definitely mad at me." I explained to her in a calm voice.

She didn't look at me. Her eyes seemed preoccupied by whatever was on the screen. I decided to give her a few minutes to do whatever it was she was doing online. Meanwhile, I looked around her room. The unicorn wallpaper was still there.

"So when is the death sentence for the unicorns?" I asked her.

"What?" she snapped at me.

"Isn't mom gonna let you have a room makeover at some point. I mean you're thirteen in a couple months."

"What wallpaper I have is none of your business. I don't need you going through my room and criticizing everything about it." She turned her piercing eyes back to the computer screen. I could see the corner of her frown relaxing as she returned to her instant messaging.

"I wasn't criticizing. I think your room is cute." I smiled and looked around. I could see her as a little four year old in a princess costume running around and counting the unicorns on the wall.

"I'm not cute." She said in a slow and deliberate voice, not even turning her head from the computer screen.

"And that's exactly why I am wondering when you are gonna get rid of the unicorn wallpaper."

"Will you stop it with the stupid wallpaper!" She snapped her head around and stared me dead in the eye. It felt like a dagger jabbing into my eye.

"Sorry," I said. I looked down at the red stained gauze on my throbbing arm and felt shame pervade me.

"What do you want from me?" she asked me in a rushed tone.

"Why did you even come to my room if you obviously didn't want to see me?" I stared at her waiting for an answer as she stood there blank faced before me. "Well?" I asked again.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. If you were alive and breathing. I was checking on you, okay." She looked down and hid her eyes from me.

"So you want me to be alive and yet the minute I walk into your room, you want nothing to do with me. How does work?" I stared at her wide-eyed with raised eye brows.

"Leave me alone," she blurted out and turned back to her computer.

"That's not fair. You know I'm going through some stuff right now—"

"We are all going through stuff right now, Annalyn! Don't you think that what you did affects the rest of us? Because it does. It really does. So just go back to bed and hide under the covers and pretend that what you did wasn't hurtful and ignorant. Go back to your own little world." "I'm sorry," I said in a whisper as I gazed into my lap.

"Maybe you care now, but obviously when it gets bad, you don't care. Did you think about me at all when you were about to kill yourself and leave me alone forever? Because you almost did it. What about me? What about me? Tell me!" she said, her voice growing louder to a scream.

"Stop! I'm sorry." I started to cry, avoiding her gaze.

"What about me!" she screamed out again.

"I love you. What I did doesn't change that." Tears began crawling down my cheeks.

"Well obviously you didn't love me enough in that moment. You chose death over me. You chose death over me!" she cried.

"No, I didn't! You were mad at me. I couldn't stand it. And then dad came and screamed at me for making you cry. I couldn't handle what I had done. I was a burden. I was bringing you down and making Dad angry and it was just all out of control. I was hurting so much inside. I just had to make it stop. It was like I was in a trance when I went into Mom's sewing stuff and took out the rotary cutter. I wasn't thinking. I was a robot. The moment I did it, I knew it was a mistake. That's why I stopped. I could have kept going. I could have made it so deep I would've had to go to the hospital. I didn't. I stopped! "I'm sorry. There isn't anything else I can do but be sorry and you'll never understand how absolutely sorry I am. I wasn't abandoning you. In that moment... there was no one else in the moment," I said shaking my head with tears in my eyes, "It was just me and a bunch of grey haze. I wanted to make all that go away. I wasn't capable of thinking about you or anything else in that moment. I couldn't see past all the grey.

"But the thing is, that changed things. I feel different now. I realize how much I screwed up. I know now that I don't want to die. I still feel crappy and depressed, but I don't want to die. I want to live. This is the first time I actually feel like I want that. The first time in a long time. I don't need you to understand. I don't expect you to. I just want you to know that I love you and I never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry. You have to know how sorry I am. All I can offer you is my sincere apology." I looked at her with a deep sincerity but she shied away from my eyes. I couldn't tell if I was getting through to her or not. She just stood there crying.

"I have homework," she said finally. She turned around and grabbed the Science 7 textbook off her desk and threw it hard onto the bed. She then grabbed a binder and hurled it over, just missing my sore arm. Finally, she took out a pen and chucked it over. I ducked before it came close to me.

"Well, what are you still doing here?" she asked me with fury in her eyes.

"Waiting for you to kill me with your school supplies, obviously." I said. She just looked at me, her irritated eyes staring a hole through my whole body.

"Okay, I'll go." I said in defeat and walked out of the room.

I heard the slamming of her door behind me. I turned around and stood there for a moment to look at the stuff on her door. I walked up to it and saw the sign that said 'Janey' on it. It was made of pink construction paper with gold glitter on it and some silver and gold stars stuck all over it. On the edge was part of a pink feather boa. I remembered her making that when she was eight. She loved doing crafts when she was a kid. There used to be tons of artwork and crafts done by her throughout our house. Most of it had been put away carefully by our mom into keepsake boxes. I assumed there was tons of crappy artwork by me in those boxes too, but I never bothered to look through it.

I stood there and smiled as I looked at her door. After a few minutes, I walked back to my room and headed straight for a wooden chest at the end of my bed. It was stained a medium brown and had a collage of pictures of me as a kid done in decoupage on the lid. There were pictures of me as a princess, as a frog on Halloween one year, and as a purple fairy. Some pictures were of me playing house in one of those plastic Fisher-Price kitchen play sets. There was one of me having tea with dad. My favourite one was of me at ten years old pushing little Janey in the swing out back. I remember just after that picture was taken she had fallen off the swing and scraped up her knee. She cried a lot for the first five minutes and then got back on the swing and told me to push her higher. Thinking of that made me smile.

I opened up the chest to find trinkets and mementoes of my childhood neatly organized from top to bottom. The drawings and paintings were all in one folder. Then there were the clay figurines wrapped in bubble wrap in a shoe box on the other side. There were some toys in other shoe boxes. Everything was stacked up in an orderly fashion.

I hadn't opened the boxes in a few years. There was never a reason to. At least, I never felt a reason to dig into my past before. It felt like a black box that hid all the special things of my childhood—things that were bittersweet to me now. Thinking of them reminded me of how things changed as I was a teenager, how I had lost my childhood naivety and innocence. I would always feel so emotional when I opened that box, so sad and longing for those days, that I never opened it. But in that moment, I needed to. There was something I needed to find.

I pulled out a few shoe boxes and some folders with my good hand and finally I found it. It was a sign that used to be hung on my bedroom door with my name on it. It was a full sheet of eight by eleven and a half construction paper that had my name on it in felt pen in various colours for each letter. The background was violet. All over it was rainbow glitter. Some of the glitter fell off it and landed on my carpet as I looked at it. There were also stickers of Care Bears, My Little Ponies, unicorns, and butterflies all over it. Some were starting to peel off. I ran my finger against them to try and stick them back on but the edges were too curled. I had made this when I was seven and had hung it on my door proudly until I was a young teenager. Then it got shoved into the box and hidden away for half a decade.

As I looked at it, my eyes felt glossed over with tears and I thought of that happy kid that knew nothing of depression and the darkness of the world. The child that never realized there was something wrong with her family—that never thought anything was wrong with life at all. I wanted to be her again. Suddenly a rush of fluttering emotions came over me. I felt flushed as my face grew warm and my heart beat quickly. I tossed the sign back in the chest and shut the lid, covering it back up with the navy blue blanket that had been neatly folded on top of it. I got in bed without letting any thoughts come into my mind and covered myself up with the comforter. I needed to hide from the world, from my childhood and all those smiling pictures of myself. They were too painful to look at. She—me—was so happy. She had no reason to be guilty. She wasn't a burden to anyone. She was joy and goodness and all the things I no longer was. I couldn't see her and so I hid from her, the world, and let the darkness wash over me.

I kicked my legs back and forth again with frustration as I lay in bed. I couldn't stop moving. I was so restless and tense. The only part of me I kept still was my aching blood stained and gauzed up arm that was in too much pain to move. I had been tossing and turning relentlessly for the last few hours. I looked at the clock again to see 2:03am — only eight minutes later than when I last looked. I turned back over again to face the wall and started shaking my feet back and forth rhythmically and fast. Soon they were almost vibrating as they shook. I couldn't let them stop because I couldn't be still. Whenever I was completely still, I felt like I would explode with tension. I had to move. I didn't know why. I guess with everything that had happened since yesterday, I was just really tense.

My mind wasn't still either. It was like I could hear the angry voices of my family yelling at me inside my head. My thoughts had become so vivid, their voices so intense and realistic, that it sounded like they were really inside my head. They just kept yelling at me over and over again. Sometimes all at once, other times they were yelling one at a time. It was the same thing over and over again.

"Bitch! Freak!" Lydia was yelling at me. "You're a freak. Look at the freak sitting across the table from me. Let's all look at the disgusting freak show!"

I cringed as I listened to her. 'Freak' seemed to keep reverberating in the background while the others started to yell. My heart beat hard against the yelling like a drum solo. I could feel it beating against my chest.

"You were going to abandon me! You didn't care about me enough to live. I want my sister back!" I could hear Janey again. I tried to hold the tears back.

"I want my sister back! I want my sister back!" she screamed at me. I started to hum little kid songs to drown out my head. On Top of Spaghetti. It was the first song that came to mind. I used to sing it all the time as a kid. It was comforting. So I hummed it louder and louder until the room was full of a horrible humming. I hummed through clenched teeth at first but soon I found myself singing the words quietly to myself in a slightly squeaky sounding voice as I really couldn't sing.

"On top of spaghetti..."

"You bitch!" Lydia interrupted me. I ignored her and kept singing. "All covered in cheese. I lost my poor meatball—" my voice quivered.

"You freak!" Ignore her, I thought to myself.

"I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed." My voice cracked a little with fear. "It rolled..." I choked on my words as I began to cry. "It rolled off of the table."

"You don't care about me at all. You were gonna abandon me," I could hear Janey starting her turn to yell in my mind.

"And onto the floor," I pushed forward.

"How dare you!" Janey screamed.

"An...And... then my poor meat—" I sniffled, "meatball rolled out of the door."

"You should roll out the door," Lydia's voice taunted.

I sobbed quietly as I tried to keep singing. "It...it rolled down to the garden."

"Why would you do this to me?" I could hear Janey crying. "You abandoned me!" she screamed.

"No I didn't!" I yelled out impulsively. "Just sing the song," I told myself quietly. "And under a bush and then my poor meatball was nothing but mush," I rushed through the words. "The mush was as tasty, as tasty could be, and then the next summer it grew into a tree." Quicker I sang, managing to remember all the words to the song that had been my favourite as a child.

"You're nothing but a pathetic disappointment," my father's voice cut in loudly with a piercing tone.

"No... no no no... Just sing," I told myself as I cried. "The tree was all covered, all covered with moss, and on it grew meatballs, all covered with sauce." I was singing louder than before as I pushed the words past my quivering lips. My stomach was fluttering inside and my heart was beating harsh in my chest.

"You bitch!" they all yelled. "You burden!" Tears streamed down my face.

"So if you have spaghetti," I cried, "all covered with cheese hold onto your meatball 'cause" I choked on my sobs," because someone might sneeze." I broke down and curled up into a ball on my bed and shook violently with crying.

"Pathetic!" he yelled.

"You abandoned me! You don't love me!" Janey screamed.

"Neil help! Neil help, she's bleeding!" my mom cried out. "She's bleeding, she's going to die, she's going to go to hell! Neil help!" I cried harder.

"Think of a song," I told myself with intense irritation. "Think!" I was yelling at myself.

"Michael row the boat ashore. Michael row the boat ashore. Michael row the boat ashore. Ashore. Ashore. Damnit! Ashore!" I couldn't take it anymore. The singing wouldn't make their hatred of me go away. It wasn't quieting my head at all. "Go away, please, just go away," I cried to myself. "Why are you doing this to me?" I asked myself.

My mind had never been so destructive and powerful before. They didn't even sound like they were coming from my mind, but they must because no one was in my room. I felt terrified nonetheless. I couldn't see anything but the moon shining through my curtains. But there was no silence—only them yelling over and over again. I needed to make them stop but I didn't know how, and what was worse was I couldn't stop moving. I just kept tossing and turning and kicking my legs back and forth in bed. My arm hurt sharply every time I turned over, but I couldn't help it anymore. I couldn't be still.

I knew at that point that I needed to get out of there. I got up and looked out the window. For some reason it looked inviting. I felt like I had been trapped in that house for two days. Maybe getting out with some fresh air would be helpful. So I quickly changed into some grey sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie. I dug through the bag my mom had packed for me and hoped there were runners. I pulled everything out furiously as I looked for them. When I found them, I put them on right away and crept down the stairs quietly and out the front door. I never thought to bring keys or lock the door. I just left.

Chapter 7

It was chilly as I awoke. My eyes crept open to see the fog of my own breathe. I opened my eyes wider and saw golden light streaking the bottom of the horizon where it met with the mountains in the distance. I sat up uncomfortably as I felt my back aching and my arm stinging against the cold air. I looked at it and noticed the bandage was no longer covering it. Instead there was a slice of red across my wrist that was blotchy with dried blood. I noticed I had been lying on a weathered wooden bench that had beads of moisture all over it. I looked around me and realized I was in a park not far from my parents' house.

As I stared forward at the light inching its way over the horizon, a terrible confusion lay over me. I didn't remember going to the park. I didn't remember anything except going for a run. Everything felt hazy in my mind. All I remembered was feeling restless the night before and needing to get out of the house. I remember putting on my running shoes and going out the door. Then I jogged for awhile down some streets and around a few blocks. I didn't remember anything happening. I didn't know how I ended up sleeping in the park. I sat there confused for a minute and then turned my attention to the sky.

I smiled as I noticed the clouds turning pink and orange. The sun must have been getting close to showing itself that morning. I had no idea what time it was. I didn't know what time dawn was at this time of year. It didn't seem to matter as I looked at the beauty painted over the sky. Streaks of gold and pink painted across a blue-grey water colour of mountains. It felt like life was breathing into me as I looked at it. It was refreshing. My smile grew until it felt like the corners of my lips were kissing my ears. A little tear inched its way into my eyes as I felt a simple serenity surround me. Suddenly life felt beautiful again. It was more than beautiful. It was radiant, magnificent, and heavenly. I couldn't believe I almost gave up on it.

I started to giggle as I felt the breeze tickle my nose. I jumped up off the bench and spun around the grass for a second. Then I took in a big breath and felt the joy of the dawn seep inside my lungs. My eyes shut and I smiled, just feeling the cool and gentle wind wrap around me. This was what I needed. Nature. Simplicity. Beauty. That's what I needed to live life. I needed to forget about all the other crap that had invaded my mind over the last few weeks and just live. I took in one final breath and spun around, my arms soaring up to the sky.

"I'm alive!" I yelled out. "I am alive. Hee... I'm alive, I'm alive. I'm alive!" I shouted with radiance in my voice, my eyes feeling exanimate.

I kept spinning until I fell to the soft dewy grass with dizziness. My head was spinning and I didn't care. I lay back in the gentle grass and saw that the clouds were getting whiter and the sky was getting more blue. It looked like it was going to be a sunny day with only stray clouds feathering over the sky. It was the exact kind of day I needed to start my new life and that's what I had resolved to do. I lay there for a few more minutes until I felt a sudden surge of rejuvenation and sprung to life.

I eagerly got up and jumped to my feet and began to jog home. It was more like running freely than jogging though. I just ran fast, my arms sweeping the wind as I reached them outwards beside me. Feeling the air brush past my cut felt like it would heal it in some mysterious way so I let my hand fly in the wind beside me.

"The world is beautiful!" I screamed out as I ran through the park, birds fluttering away as I past them. "Oh glory! Life is beautiful!"

Suddenly I tripped as the grassy edge of the park met with the cement sidewalk. I tumbled forward and found myself face down on the cold grey cement.

"Damnit! Stupid piece of crap!" I shouted with vulgar as I pushed myself off the ground with my good hand. I held my other hand out of the way as it throbbed. I had broken my fall with both hands making the pain return bitterly.

I put my fingers up to my forehead and felt moisture. I looked at them and noticed the fresh blood pooled on my fingertips.

"Oh crap, Just frigging great" I said annoyed.

I stood up and started to walk, my knee aching and feeling out of place as I did. My face frowned and I forced myself to hobble home. It took about fifteen minutes to make the five minute walk but as I reached the front steps of my house I fell to the ground in pain and satisfaction for having made it home.

"Oh my God, Neil. She's hurt!" I heard my mother's voice behind me.

"Janey, get some ice," my father said calmly.

I didn't bother turning my head. I put my hands over my ears instead. I didn't want to hear them. Their shrill voices were disturbing the serene tranquility of the dawn that had rejuvenated me that morning (right up until I fell and hurt myself). I could still hear them though. I didn't even listen to what they were saying. I could feel them fussing over me and felt a dabbing of my forehead. I looked up and saw my father with gauze that had a small amount of fresh blood on it. I closed my eyes and tried to feel the dawn pervade me like it had when I first woke up. But all I could feel was their panic around me.

"Leave me alone," I scowled, my brow burrowing together in frustration as I pushed his hands away from my head.

"Stop it. You're hurt. I have no idea what you've been doing but let me fix your damn head," he said angrily.

I shut my eyes tightly and breathed in. The refreshing feeling of the air was gone. It was warmer and felt uselessly stark unlike the crisp cool air that had swept inside my lungs earlier.

"I'm fine." I insisted. I tried to get up despite the pain in my knee.

"Sit down," my father snapped at me.

"Screw off! I'm not twelve. Leave me alone," I growled, my eyes piercing at him like I had a beast inside of me. There was silence for a moment as all three of them stared at me in shock. I hobbled past them inside of the house.

"Where are you going?" my father asked me in a stern tone.

"I'm thirsty," I said as I made my way to the kitchen.

My arm, forehead and knee were all in pain but I didn't care. The pain didn't matter. I just needed to be strong and start my new life, whatever that would entail. I wasn't sure at that point. But that morning, the sun had spoken to me in some metaphysical way I couldn't explain. I knew it was time to change things.

I got some raspberry punch out of the fridge and drank down a whole glass in one steady gulp and then poured some more.

"Why don't you have some water, Dear," my mom said with soft but concerned eyes.

"Why can't I just drink juice?" I snapped at her, narrowing my eyes.

"Annalyn, don't yell at your mother," my father snapped. I noticed his face turning red as he stared at me with a frustrated confusion.

I shook my head. "Dad, I'm fine. Can't you people just leave me alone."

"Neil, maybe she hit her head hard. We should call a doctor and have them look at her head," my mom rambled on.

"She doesn't have a head injury. She's just being stupid. Go put some ice on your head and lie down," he told me.

"I'm not tired. Just leave me alone. I've got things to do."

"Maybe I can help you," Janey spoke up from the doorway. She looked at me with sad scared eyes.

"Yes. That's a great idea. Let's go," I said, happy once again.

"Where?" she asked me looking concerned.

"Stop it. There's no going anywhere for either of you. You're being ridiculous, Annalyn. Help her up to her room, Janey. I'll bring up the first aid supplies and bandage your arm and clean your forehead cut," he said, his eyes piercing and his face red.

"Don't tell me what to do!" I screeched at the top of my lungs in a way that stung my throat and started to dart out of the room, limping along quickly despite my sore knee.

"Annalyn, don't," Mom cried.

"Just let her go. If she wants to be stupid, fine. She can be an idiot all she wants. She'll be back in 10 minutes begging me for ice for all the pain she's gonna be in," I could hear my father tell my mom.

After a few minutes, I had managed to limp to the end of the driveway and suddenly realized I had no idea where I was going or what I wanted to do. I looked into the distance at the sun, which had fully risen in the horizon by that point. I was hoping it would tell me what I was supposed to do.

"What are you gonna do?" I heard a quiet voice behind me.

"I have no idea." I turned around and smiled at Janey. "But today my life starts." My eyes felt a curious radiance in them as I looked at her. She had confusion written in her furrowed brow. "Join me!" I said enthusiastically as I grabbed onto her hand and started to pull her down the street towards the park.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a panicked voice.

"Trust me," I smiled as we continued down the block.

"Stop." She pulled her arm away from my latch and stared at me with serious eyes.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"You've lost my trust. How can I follow you down the street to God-Knows-Where after everything that's happened?" Her gaze reached into my eyes like it was searching for a sign that I could be trusted. I could tell she wanted to trust me. But she was scared and suspicious. I could feel it as her eyes invaded me.

"Just trust me!" I yelled as I smiled wide and began hobbling quickly down the street, my knee starting to feel a bit back in place. "Wait for me!" She quickly followed.

After ten minutes of silence and her following a few steps behind me, we had reached the edge of the park. I sat down at the nearest bench and rubbed my knee.

"Okay, now what?" she asked with a skeptical look on her face.

I smiled to myself. I could feel a breeze picking up as it began to tickle my face. I looked at the cuts on my arm and held them up to the wind and let the air flood against it. The air was cool but not cold. It felt soothing as a soft feather against my wounds. I leaned back on the bench and felt the wooden slats against my back. As I leaned my head back, I pulled my hair out from behind my head and let it dangle over the back of the bench. The wind swept through it tenderly. I sighed. This was exactly how I wanted life to feel. I decided I should wake up at dawn every morning, sit outside, watch the sunrise, and let the cool morning breeze refresh my entire body.

"Annalyn!"

I looked up and saw my sister furiously trying to get my attention.

"What?" I asked as I smiled gently and peacefully.

"You're ignoring me. I thought maybe you were in a trance," she said as she looked at me with perplexed eyes. "Were you?" She slanted her head and watched me curiously.

"I was in the middle of being reborn," I said surreally.

"That makes no sense," she said with arms crossed.

"Close your eyes, feel the breeze, listen to the wind sweeping in the trees. Don't you feel it? It's life. It's my life being reborn again. It's a new start. Freshness taking over me and cleansing me of all the dirtiness that has invaded me recently. I was lost. The wind has found me."

"You're scaring me," she said. I glanced at her to see glossy eyes. She needed the rebirth too.

I jumped up and grabbed a hold of her shoulders with both arms. "Let them rebuild you!"

"Stop it!" She started to cry.

"Be reborn! God will rebuild you!" I yelled enthusiastically as I lay my head back and let my hair flow freely in the wind.

"Let go of me!" she cried as she tried to pry my hands off her shoulders. "Annalyn, stop it. Just let go of me. Please." Tears started to stream down her face as I smiled at her with eyes that felt radiant.

"Open yourself up to the sun, to Mother Nature, to the wind, to God. He will save you. They will all save you."

Suddenly I felt myself falling to the ground. I looked up to see that she had pushed me down and was now running as fast as she could back to the house. I had no idea what had gotten into her. Everyone seemed to be acting strangely towards me ever since I came back home a few days ago. It didn't matter though. I just lay there in the grass and stared at the birds as they flew overhead singing songs of new life. Their chirping gracefully invaded my ears and made my mind feel at ease.

I sat at the bar by the university gulping down a Corona with a slice of lime in it. I hated the way it tasted but nonetheless, it felt refreshing. I was just finishing the last gulp as Lexie came through the door, her face looking baffled as she saw me. She stood in front of me for a moment, her head slanted and her eyebrows furrowed.

"Well?" I asked with a selfish insistence on her answering me then and now.

"I just don't know what to think. A few days ago you were so depressed you couldn't get out of bed or even shower. Now you're all cleaned up and at the bar drinking beer— something you hate by the way." She sat down beside me and looked at me seriously. "I just don't get it."

"I'm alive and well. What is there to get about that?" I asked with a grin sneaking up on my face.

"You're good then?" she asked, her eyes still concerned.

"I'm wonderful!" I yelled out holding up my empty beer bottle. "More," I said to the waitress as she walked by giving me an odd look.

Lexie raised an eyebrow to me. "I called your parents just after you left the message on my cell to meet you here. They said you hurt yourself this morning. They didn't even know how. I see the Band-Aid on your forehead."

"Cute isn't it?" I said confidently of my Care Bear Band-Aid covering the minor cut on my forehead, which only stung a little. Dad wanted to bandage it up with gauze but I felt that would look too stupid so I insisted on the cute Band-Aid. It would be my fashion statement. Unfortunately, my arm was less of a fashion statement with the new white bandage wrapped around it.

"They told me what you did a few days ago to your wrists. It made me cry to hear that." Her eyes watered as she took the hand of my damaged wrist in her hand and traced her fingers along the bandage. It still stung but I just thought of that as a reminder of the changes in my life.

"It made me realize that life is worth living. That event changed me. Now I am better than ever. I'm starting a whole new life today," I said with radiance pervading me. "That's why I called you. I want to come back to our apartment and return to school. I realized that today as I was sitting at the park all day. I remembered how important school was to me before. I can't believe I almost screwed that up. It's not too late I hope."

"You've missed over a week. I doubt your professors would be happy if they knew that. But honestly, with classes as big as they are, I don't know if they would even have noticed. Did you have any assignments due during your absence?"

I furrowed my brow as I thought hard to remember. "I don't know. But it doesn't matter. I'll charm my way back in if I have to."

"Okay." She still looked skeptical about my condition.

I put my hand over hers and smiled warmly. "Life starts today."

"What does that mean?" she said with a peculiar look in her eyes.

"I've been wasting my life for the last few weeks. I'm putting a stop to that today. This is the beginning of my new life," I said looking at her with a surreal feeling draping over my face.

"I'm glad you're happy. Maybe you should call your parents though. When I called them, they said you came home after being out all day somewhere, they didn't even know where, and then you had a shower and after that you were suddenly gone. They were quite concerned," she explained. "I mean, how did you even get here? Your car is still at our apartment."

"I was at the park," I said matter-of-factly. "And I walked part way until a cute guy drove by and gave me a ride." I smiled as I thought of him.

"You got a ride with a strange man?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"That's so unlike you." Her eyes darkened with concern.

"It's not a big deal," I said confidently. She shook her head and then paused for a moment.

"So the park... what were you doing there all day?" She asked me with confusion written all over her face. "Oh, it was the best experience in my life. As I was sitting there listening to the birds chirp and watching the sun move in the sky as the clouds and blue painted across it, I just felt... I can't explain it. I just knew that they were rejuvenating me. They were bringing me back to life." I felt the nostalgic look in my eyes.

"Who are they?" she asked skeptically.

"Mother Nature and God. They are working together to build me up again. They are responsible for my new life." I smiled widely as a happy tear appeared in my eye. "I owe them my life. I am so..." My eyes watered more. "So grateful to them."

"Um... okay. I don't really know what to say to that. You've never been a religious person and all of a sudden you are talking about how God has saved you."

"He has. And so has Mother Nature." I felt a calming peace melt into me as I thought of them. I took a big gulp of my beer and smiled.

"I... just really don't know what to think." I saw her frown. "Are you sure you are okay?"

"I'm better than I have ever been in my life. I realize now that it was all part of the path. Drowning. Coming back to life. Living all this pain. It's all lead up to the moment of this morning when the dawn helped me be reborn. They didn't say words, but they spoke to me nonetheless," I said with a calm serene in my voice.

"Who spoke to you?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"I told you before, silly. God and Mother Nature. You need to start listening to me. Now, let's get down to business. Can you drive me to my parents' house so I can pick up my stuff and go back home?"

She sighed and looked at me seriously for a moment. "Yeah, I guess. Are you done here? I'd like to go now."

I finished off the last of my beer, gulping down half the bottle in one shot. "Yes." I smiled and put some money down.

"How much did you order?" Lexie looked down at the twenty dollar bill on the table and then looked back at me with wide and concerned eyes.

"A couple beers," I said matter-of-factly.

"Well, do you know that's a twenty?" she asked me condescendingly.

"Hey. Don't talk to me that way!" I said sharply.

"What way? I'm just wondering why you are overpaying." I could feel her mock me as she spoke.

"No. That's not it at all. You are just upset because I've been touched by such powerful things today. You're jealous!" I yelled with angry electricity in my eyes as I turned around and walked out of the bar.

"Wait for me!" Lexie said running after me. She quickly caught up.

"Just go. I'll walk back to my parents' house and get my own things," I said gruffly.

"That would take you an hour to walk!" she exclaimed. I started walking. "Okay, stop. I'm sorry. I'll drive you, okay. Just let me drive you," she hastily said before I could get far.

I looked at her seriously for a minute, studying her face and the sincerity on it. Then I smiled. "Okay. Let's go!"

I awoke to the obnoxious sound of my alarm letting me know it was 7am. It was nice to wake up in my own bed at my apartment for the first time in several days. I felt bright as I got up, my eyes alert and my face smiling. I went and opened the curtains and my smile instantly faded. It was still dark outside, though it was starting to lighten up. I was hoping to see the bright dawn calling me to life that morning, but I would have to wait another half hour or so. In the meantime, I jumped in the shower and felt radiant as the water washed over me.

After my shower, I put on a housecoat and went digging through my closet trying to find the perfect thing to wear on my first day back to school. The closet was still a mess from the days before when I couldn't get myself together enough to stay tidy. As I searched, I realized I had the most boring wardrobe. Everything was so conservative and casual. There were plain long sleeve shirts of various pastel colours or dark shades as opposed to anything bright. I had khakis and jeans. There were a couple skirts but they looked like they belonged to a business woman rather than a fun eighteen year old girl. I sighed and walked over to Lexie's room.

"Rise and shine!" I exclaimed as I walked right on in and headed straight to her closet.

"What are you doing?" Lexie asked groggily as she awoke.

"I hate my wardrobe. I need to borrow something." My voice was cheery.

"Fine. I guess I need to get up anyways." She sounded grumpy.

I dug through her closet and found a pretty dark pink peasant top. It had short sleeves that were gathered at the bottom. The top part was gathered and opened up in the front with a tie, creating an oval of flesh just above the breasts. I thought it was perfect for the day. It was fresh and happy, just like me. I found a white fitted skirt that rose several inches above the knees to go with it. I went back to my bedroom and threw them on the bed and looked for some underwear. I found a lacy pink bra and panties and got dressed. I left the ties on the top undone. I liked how it made me feel to show some skin. For my hair, I let it hang freely but I made a couple small braids on each side of my face. I put on some berry pink lipstick and gloss, pink blush and light green eye shadow with tons of mascara.

Finally at 7:45am I was ready to go. Lexie had already left, having gotten impatient waiting for me. I knew I would be late but it didn't matter that much. I just drove fast. I managed to sneak into the classroom fifteen minutes late without being noticed as they were watching a video in psychology. I sat down at the back and soon became fascinated by the movie that was talking all about the brain. Watching the animations of nerve impulses was exciting, even electrifying. And then they started showing a PET scan of the brain. All those bright blues and reds were so beautiful. I wondered what my brain would look like at that moment. Would it be mostly blue or would there be bright red spots of life?

The video finished after an hour and Professor Masterson turned the lights back on as everyone in the room squinted.

"Okay, before you go on your break, I'd like to get in your reports. Leave them on the podium at the front." He turned around and took out a red marker and started to draw a diagram on the board.

I felt an intense panic as I sat there. I didn't know there was a report due. I hadn't done it. I had nothing to hand in. What was I going to do? I took in a few deep labored breaths as my eyes watered a little. I got up and went down to talk to him.

"Professor?" I said as I reached him. He turned around and looked at me curiously, waiting for my question. I didn't really know what to say so I stood there for a moment. I'm sure he must have seen the terror in my eyes.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Um, I... I didn't finish the report. I've been terribly ill and I just... I haven't been in class for the last two weeks." He just stared at me. "Yes, I was that sick. It was terrible. Very bad. I nearly died, I kid you not. So I don't have the report done. I didn't even know about it actually. So as you can see, I'm in a bit of a panic here as to what to do. I'm just really—"

He cut off my quick-paced rambling with a stern tone. "It was in the syllabus. The report was clearly indicated to be due today. You should have known about it from the first day of class," he explained unsympathetically.

"I know, but I've been so out of it the last few weeks." I smiled and moved closer to him. "Isn't there anything you could do?" I asked him in a sweet voice.

"If you have a doctor's note, I could give you an extension."

"I don't have one. You see, my family nursed me back to health. We don't go to doctors. It's um... a... religious thing," my voice squeaked a little.

"Then I can't help you. You can hand it in late with a mark reduction for each day it's late." He turned back around and started to write on the white board with his red marker.

I lightly touched his shoulder. "I'll do anything. Please." I smiled as I batted my eyelashes and tilted my head to the side. I smooshed my glossy lips together, letting him know how far I was willing to go.

He sighed and looked at me for a moment. He studied me for a second and then gave me a stern grave look of disappointment.

"Look. I can't help you and I've got a lot of stuff to get up on this board before the break is over. If you could please just leave me to do that, I would really appreciate it." He looked at me insistently. "Okay?"

I nodded, my face frozen in mortification as the blood rushed to it. I quickly turned around and ran up the stairs to my seat. I sat there fidgeting nervously for the rest of the class as my mind went on a tirade about how stupid he was for turning me down. It never occurred to me how bad it was that I had actually tried to get my teacher to sleep with me in order to extend the due date of the report. I never even felt guilty or sick about it. Not then, anyways. I was too drunk on my new found zest for life.

I was sitting there staring into his eyes as he smiled back at me. Everything he said made me giggle. He was a sweet-talker. He swooned me immediately as he saw me wandering down the streets near the university that afternoon. I started wandering aimlessly because I had been feeling lost and upset about what happened in class.

"So really, why were you crying when I ran into you? I know it wasn't just allergies making your eyes red," Mitch asked me out of the blue. We had been having fun just chatting at the bar. He was telling me all about his adventures abroad.

"Bad day at school. There was a report due today and I didn't do it. I didn't even know about it," I said as I looked down at my drink and stirred the peach-coloured slush around.

"Oh," he cringed slightly. "Can you hand it in late?"

"Yeah. I just really hate losing marks. But it's not a big deal. Let's talk more about you. You're so interesting. I haven't seen you since high school." I smiled again and gently touched his shoulder as we sat side by side on bar stools.

"Yeah. I remember you tutoring me in math in Grade12. I was too much of a jock to pay attention to a smart girl like you though. I can see now that you are definitely something I want to pay attention to." His eyes twinkled a little as he looked me up and down.

I felt like my eyes were glowing radiantly as he spoke. "I was too busy back then thinking about grades to be paid attention to anyway."

"What about now. You still seem concerned with grades."

"There's room in my life for things other than grades. There's definitely room for some fun. Lots of fun. It's what I need. It's actually my new outlook on life: Have fun." I giggled a little.

"Well, that sounds like a good outlook," he said with a smile as he put his hand over mine on the bar. A spark of electricity tickled my hand.

"You are definitely making me have fun. You're contributing to my new outlook. I should thank you." I giggled some more and took a sip of my bellini.

"Oh, this isn't fun. What I have in mind is much more fun. Why don't you come with me to this new club downtown tonight. I'm going with some friends. I'm sure they won't mind if you come along." He looked at me with his deep brown eyes and I felt a tickle inside. I just wanted to run my hands through his blonde hair.

"Friends? I like it with just you and me. We never know what could happen with it just being the two of us." I gave him a sly smile as I put my hand on his thigh. His eyes lit up.

"Don't worry. There will be plenty of time for just the two of us. Come. It will be fun. Do you dance?" he asked me. The answer should have been no. I had no experience in dancing at a club. But it sounded fun nonetheless. I was in the mood for something adventurous and new.

"Okay. I'll come. But I've got to get changed before we go there." He nodded.

"Where are you?" I heard Lexie spazzing over my cell. "I'm just out and about," I said nonchalantly as I smiled at Mitch. We were standing at the bar of the club downtown taking down shots of tequila.

"It's after eleven. I haven't seen you all day. You left that tearful message on my voicemail this morning about some report you didn't do. I've been trying to call you since I got the message. Why haven't you answered your phone?" Lexie's voice was brimming with worry.

"I've been distracted," I said with a glow as I looked over at Mitch. The bartender put down two shots for us. "I gotta go," I told Lexie and then closed my flip phone and put it in my dainty black lace purse.

After we finished at the bar, Mitch had driven me to my apartment, as my car was still parked at the university. Lexie wasn't home at the time. I borrowed a short purple dress with thin straps that hugged my thinning figure from her closet. It had an iridescent glow to it. I felt like it would shine nice under the club lights. I had imagined the club to be like a disco with strobe lights and such all over the place. I also borrowed a pair of her strappy black heels and put on tons of makeup. I had dark smoky eyes with lots of mascara and black eye liner. My lipstick was a dark plum smeared with lots of gloss over it. After I finished getting ready, we met up with Mitch's friends. There were three guys and two girls. However, I paid little attention to them and hung onto Mitch all night, draping myself on his shoulder as much as I could.

"Ready?" Mitch asked me as we stood at the bar.

"Let's do it!" I yelled and giggled.

We both held up out shot glasses and clinked them together and then hoisted them in the air. We threw back the shots simultaneously. I felt it burn my throat as I let it slip down. Then I took the shot glass and banged it on the table.

"Woo!" I screamed out enthusiastically.

He gave a little laugh. "I think I like drinking shots with you. None of my other friends get so vocal and excited like you."

"Shots are fun. But we've done three sets now. I got other plans for us!"

I grabbed onto his arm and started dragging him towards the dance floor that was filled with people dancing to music the DJ played. A Shakira song had just come on. The colourful lights flashing over the floor drew me in. I pulled him into a narrow space between some people in the crowded club and started dancing. I wasn't much of a dancer but it didn't even occur to me at that moment. I just tossed my arms around in the air and shook my butt, twirling around and singing along badly.

I let the lights sink into me. I looked up at them as I twirled and all of a sudden the room became a blur of different colours contrasted against the darkly painted walls. Greens, reds, blues. They bathed inside my eyes as the music washed over my ears and took my head on a spinning trip.

"I love this!" I screamed out and shook my butt and started grinding with Mitch.

I didn't even look at him much. I could feel him behind me. At least, I thought it was him. I just kept dancing and felt as if I was in my own little world.

Suddenly someone bumped into me, startling me. "Get away from me!" I said, pushing whoever it was back. I felt a sudden and harsh grip around my arm that was pulling me to the side.

"What are you doing?" Mitch asked me with an angry look on his face.

"Dancing!" I said enthusiastically as I started to dance on the spot again.

"No, you were pushing people! What the hell! Do you want us to get kicked out?" He yelled at me with his piercing eyes.

"Don't yell at me!" I screamed, my eyes feeling like they were on fire.

"I think you've had way too much to drink. Go sit down in the corner and I'll order you some coffee," he said, still angry.

"No! I'm dancing! You can't stop me." I pushed him out of my way and started twirling and twisting, moving my arms all over the place, to the music.

"What's wrong with your friend?" I heard one of his female friends say in a mocking tone. I immediately marched up to her.

"There is nothing wrong with me!" I screamed straight into her face.

"Get away from me! Mitch, help me," she said with fear and in a moment he was in front of her and grabbing onto my arm.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed. "Someone help me!"

"Shut up why don't you?!" he snapped at me.

"Help!"

"Is there a problem here?" a tall and heavily muscled bouncer dressed in black said as he got up to us.

"This girl has had way too much to drink. I was just trying to get her out of here so I can call her a cab home," Mitch explained.

Soon, I was sitting in a cab crying my eyes out as I watched Mitch drive away from the bar. I knew he was angry and would never talk to me again. He was a jerk. That was all I could think of at that moment.

"Where to?" the cab driver asked me. I gave him the address of my apartment and eventually I made it there. I had no money to pay him with so I called Lexie on my cell phone, still crying, and asked her to come outside with some money when we got there. She did.

"Are you okay?" she asked me worried as she put her arms around me and hugged me.

"It's been a bad day," I cried as I latched onto her.

"Did you have too much to drink?" she asked me in a sweet and non-condescending way.

"Yes. But it doesn't matter. Boys are jerks whether I drink or not," I whined as I crinkled up my face and continued to cry.

"Let's go inside, Sweetie," she said as she kept one arm around me and led me up the elevator to our apartment.

I felt shaky as we walked down the hallway, but she kept me propped up against her as we walked clumsily towards the door. I landed on the couch feeling dizzy and hardly even remembering how I made it there from the door.

"Do you want some coffee to help sober you up?" she asked me with a concerned but sweet smile on her face.

"No," I started until an idea struck my mind. "Yes! I need to write a report. Bring it to my room."

I stumbled through my door and landed on my bed dizzily. I forced myself up and pulled my heavy backpack off the ground and onto the bed. I started pulling out all my books, haphazardly throwing them around my bed until I found my Intro to Psychology book.

"Oh, laptop. I need my laptop," I muttered to myself.

I looked around the room as it spun in my eyes and saw it sitting on the desk. I got up and as I walked over to the desk, I fell flat faced onto the ground, landing in a pile of my own clothes.

"Oh, sweetie, I think your report can wait," Lexie said as she rushed to my side and helped pull me up.

"No!" I stood on my feet, swaying a little.

"Annalyn, you're being ridiculous. Write it tomorrow afternoon once your hangover wears off," she said, changing her tone to match my stubbornness.

"I need to write my report. I need to! Professor what's his face who turned me down and made me a fool needs to be shown up! I can write a report and it will be brilliant and...uh... I can write this. I need to, damnit!"

"If you insist, but you're not gonna get a good mark." She shook her head at me and left the room as the whistling sound of the kettle boiling rung through the apartment.

"I'll show all of you!" I yelled out as I grabbed my laptop and sat back down on my bed, propping myself up against the wooden headboard with some pillows.

"I'm just saying you're being illogical," I could hear her say from the kitchen. "I've got your coffee. Maybe it will help your mind get back on track and start thinking more like a normal human being." As she walked into the room, I could see her sarcastically rolling her eyes at me. I wanted to spit at her for her contempt for me. I bitterly took the coffee out of her hand and asked her to leave. She just shook her head and left, letting the door slam hard behind her.

"Psychology 100 Report by Annalyn Johanssen," I said aloud as I started thinking of what I would say. "The greatest report ever! Worth an A triple plus!" I spat a little accidentally as I spoke loud and harsh as if the professor and Lexie and the world would hear me and realize my absolute brilliance. I sat there confidently researching electronic journal articles and typing up my paper for hours, not once realizing that it was perhaps the most ridiculous thing to be doing.

Chapter 8

It had been four days since I had last slept. At the time, those felt like the most glorious days of my entire life. I had been more awake and alive than I had ever been. There was no need for naps, for sitting down and resting. I had been on the go, buzzing around and chattering at people the whole time. I partied with people I hardly knew, and got drunk with them at times. Sometimes, I felt too alive to even bother drinking though. I didn't need to drink to be the life of the party anymore. I didn't need liquor to make me sociable. I was more sociable while sober than any other girl in any of the bars and clubs I went to. I felt alive.

When I was sober enough, or sometimes even when I was somewhat drunk, I managed to complete many of my assignments and readings for school. The first night without sleep was the day that my report for psychology was supposed to be due. I completed it and handed it into Professor Masterson the next day. He had a dire look on his face as if he knew I was going to fail this one. I laughed and walked away knowing I had written the most brilliant essay he would ever read. I spent the following three nights catching up on all the readings I had missed while I was depressed. I had written two research papers as well in that time. I was quite prepared to go to the professors the next day and hand them in early. But it didn't work out that way.

Four days without sleep changes a person. I was sitting in the living room of my apartment alone watching some TV show I didn't care about when I realized this. I spent the day flying around, shopping and gossiping with some new friends I'd made at the mall. But when I got home that evening, I started to feel overwhelmed. The thoughts that had once been a perfectly organized chaos were falling apart now. I couldn't follow one thought to another. It was like a bunch of bees buzzing around in my head. Each of them was a thought but I couldn't quite follow it. It was too loud and busy and buzzing and I just had to scream.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I whispered to myself as I sat there staring at the TV and rocking back and forth. I couldn't sit still either. I felt like my body would explode from the tension if I didn't move. So I held my arms around myself and rocked back and forth as my legs jittered below me.

"I need to get out of here!" I cried to myself.

I jumped off the couch and raced to the window. I was nearly jumping up and down as I stood there looking out it.

"Where do I go? Where do I go!" I screamed aloud.

I stared through the window, watching the dark sky as the stars speckled over it. Suddenly I felt slightly calmer. The stars. Mother Nature. God. They hadn't forgotten me, had they? They would love me and care for me. I needed to be with them.

"I didn't forget you. I promise. I've been distracted by fun things, dirty sinful things. And by school and all the work I had to do. I need you. Please don't abandon me for my sins." I started to weep into my hands when the door suddenly opened. "Who's there!" I yelled out enraged.

"What's going on?" Lexie asked me with concern in her eyes. I wanted to slap her for that frown she was giving me. I felt such rage inside.

"Oh hell! Oh hell... oh hell.... oh hell..." I started to say without even knowing why. I fell to my hands and knees. Lexie raced to my side.

"What is it, Sweetie?" she asked, stroking my back with her hands as if they were sandpaper skinning off my back.

"No!" I jumped up and pushed my way passed her a few feet. "Don't touch me. I'm a sinner. I'm dirty. I'm a whore."

"You're none of those things. Why would you think that?" she asked me, her voice empathetic and soothing.

I just stopped and looked at her in the eyes and felt like I would collapse. "I slept with someone last night. I don't even remember who he was. Just some guy I met at the bar. We did it in the back of his van. It was fun, like I was high. I'm such a whore." I spoke as if I was in shock. I wasn't really even feeling the sorrow of what I had done. It was just fear. I was fearful that I would be punished. God would find a way to punish the sins of my ungratefulness.

Lexie stared at me for a moment. She looked a little shocked herself. "Did you use a condom?" she asked me carefully.

"Yes," I nodded and tried to remember. "I know I did because it was one of those novelty condoms that glows in the dark. It was fun." I said it, wide-eyed, in a dead and shameful tone. "Yes, I'm a whore a whore a whore. Dirty whore!" I screamed. I wanted to tear into myself right then and there as I got louder and managed to scream out dirty whore one last time.

"Stop it. You aren't. I don't know what's wrong with you. You're not well." She said that with such empathy that I almost felt bad for her to have to be in the presence of someone so dirty. She moved closer to me and tried to touch my shoulder but I jumped back a few feet, almost stumbling as I did.

"Don't touch the dirty whore! She'll kill you with her touch. I am the great all powerful sinner who can kill!" I rose my head up and lifted my arms as high as they could reach and let out a little giggle. Then I came back down to normal height and started to giggle loudly. "You see, us dirty whores..." I started laughing and then I looked straight into her eyes intensely. "God kills us and sends us to fiery hell."

"You think you're going to hell?" She looked at me with a perplexed look in her eyes. I could tell she was very frightened for my sake at this point. "I don't think God would do that. I mean, you're not well. But you're not going to hell, Annalyn. Please, just sit and calm down. I'll make you some tea or something. Maybe you can have a hot bath." Her eyes were very convincing, but I wasn't in a normal state and no one could convince me of anything sane in that moment.

"I've got to go!" I screamed with fiery eyes.

"No, no. You can't go. Please, stay here!" Lexie said in a terrified voice. Her eyes looked like they were about to cry.

"But...but...." and suddenly my thoughts were lost. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore," I said in a wistful voice. I turned around and sat down on the couch. I stared at the TV and just let the noise from it and the lights wash over me and soothe me with its constant sensory stimulation.

"Annalyn?" I heard a frightened voice from the other side of the couch as Lexie stood there. I couldn't tell, but I thought maybe she was too afraid to come and sit down next to me.

"I'm scared," I said in a quick tone.

I could hear Lexie sigh and then take in a deep breath. "I'm scared too."

"Why?" I asked her curiously.

"I don't know what's wrong with you. I'm scared for you," she explained. Her eyes were filled with sorrow and tears glistened in her eyes.

"Me!" I suddenly felt very tense. "Why would you be scared of me? I'm not dangerous. I've never laid a hand on you. You're terrified of me. You won't even come near me."

"No—"

"How dare you! How dare you even come and be in my presence. Do you have any idea how important I am? God and Mother Nature both have a vested interest in me. I am special. I am their vessel to do their bidding. I screwed up but they won't forget about me. They are forgiving, unlike you," I nearly growled the last word. "They will forgive me and I will be their special tool once again. I am Their child." As I finished my speech, I stared her straight in the eye.

"No. Annalyn.... No." She said softly and started shaking her head slowly, her eyes fearful.

"Of course you don't believe me. Why would you? No one would. It sounds ludicrous. And that," I said strongly, "is exactly what They want!"

Lexie stared at me, though not with a harsh stare. I could tell she barely wanted to look at me. I think she was scared of meeting my eyes. I knew she was scared and for some reason, that made me feel even more powerful and special.

"Well? Are you just gonna stand there?" I asked her.

"I—"

I smiled. "I've made you speechless." I started to giggle as if I were a small child looking into the face of the magic of her own doing. "It's no matter. I need to go."

"No! You can't leave, Annalyn!" Lexie said suddenly snapping out of her shock and fear. I put my hand on her shoulder confidently and smiled. "You won't understand. This is something I must do."

"What? What must you do?" I could hear the panic in her voice.

"When the time is right, you will know and understand," I said calmly.

I turned and quickly left the apartment, wearing a short black pleated skirt and a deep pink tank top with 2 inch lace contouring the bottom and top. My hair was once neatly made up into a curly haired twist with many bobby pins and little butterfly clips holding it in place, but had now fallen down into disarray. I hadn't looked in a mirror, but I imagine the heavy layers of makeup I was wearing earlier was still there, though the eye makeup was probably messed up by my crying. I didn't even think about it. I had something important to do.

I drove up to the park by my parents' house with a knowing smile on my face. Even though it was dark out, I knew They were waiting for me. I got out and walked towards the spot where They had first touched me. As I got there, I could see the stars sparkling above and the moon shining in its half form over the area. I sat down on the bench and waited for Them to come.

After twenty minutes of sitting there calmly, I started to feel funny about sitting there all alone in the dark. There were shadows all around me. I didn't know who was lurking in those woods. I scanned the shadows for any faces that were watching me. I knew there were people there. I could feel their presence all around me. The breeze felt like it was picking up and it had a cold chill to it. I held my arms around myself and felt vulnerable and scared. Someone was coming for me. It was the sinners coming to take me away.

"God! Save me! They are coming. You need to take me away from here at once!" I began breathing harder and faster. "Mother Nature!" I screamed out, "Save me from them. I promise I am not a dirty whore. I won't ever be again. Don't let the hell-demons take me away." I began to cry. I was breathing faster than ever. "Leave me!" I screamed shrilly. "Go to Hell, all of you whores and dirty sinners!"

I was so tense. I felt like my insides were crawling around and just wanted to jump out of me. I sat down on the bench and started to rock back and forth in a fast rhythmic pace. My head was beating somehow as I rocked back and forth, my brain feeling like it was shaking around inside. It didn't matter. I needed to move before my insides tore me apart. I started moving my legs and twisting and dangling them around. My feet joined in as they twiddled back and forth. I started wringing my hands. After a few minutes, I was no longer rocking but shaking hard and fast. If I stopped, I died. I knew that had to be true.

Suddenly I heard a crackling of leaves behind me. "Go away!" I leapt up and screamed as I turned around. Lexie jumped back.

I sighed and sat back down, going back to my agitation. She sat down next to me as I rocked and shook, and didn't seem to mind at all that the bench was shaking with me.

"You're not okay," she said plainly but with love in her voice. I knew she cared deeply for me.

I looked at her with a sorrow-filled disappointment. "They aren't coming are they?"

"Who?"

"God." I let my breath drop out and then continued. "Mother Nature." I shook my head. They had abandoned me.

"No. They aren't coming," she said in a simple voice.

"What am I supposed to do now?" My eyes welled up with tears. "Come home."

"No no no... I can't. There's so much I need to do." I felt like I was falling apart inside.

"No, there isn't. It's already done." She had that convincing voice again.

I looked at her perplexed as I rocked back and forth.

"There's so much inside of me. It's all telling me there's so much to do. The bees buzz in my head and the apples are falling from the trees. I don't know where to begin anymore." I felt dizzy from the thoughts that swirled around my busy head, racing off their tracks and chasing each other, painting rainbows all around my mind. It was chaos in there and I couldn't follow it anymore.

"That's okay. We can get help for that. We just need to go home." She sounded so calm, as if she knew what to say. But I don't think she did. I think she was as lost with this as I was.

"I can't stop spinning and dancing." I said in awe of myself, yet completely confused at the same time.

"You're not spinning and dancing. You're just sitting. And sitting is good."

"No no. It's not. Sitting is bad. Must be on the go. On the go we go!" I was starting to get some of that rejuvenation back in my voice.

"Annalyn, let's just sit here, okay." Lexie put her hand on my hand as it twisted and writhed with my other hand. I continued to shake and rock as if my insides would burst if I stopped. Instead of shying away, she put her arm across my back and wrapped it around my shoulder. She had a calming way about her, even amidst the fear I know she was hiding.

"Tomorrow, can we go shopping? Or to a good party? No no no! No more partying. I should swear off the partying. I'll be a dirty whore if I do. No no, none of that. Okay, shopping. Shopping is cleanse-full and good for the soul and the soul is the fight inside of us. What good would good be good if we didn't play up our soul with all the goodies of candy and life? What good, what good, what good, indeed," my voice raced like a high speed train derailing.

I can't remember how long she let me ramble on like that but at some point, there was a crumbling sound of leaves behind us and a flashlight being shined. I jumped up and screamed out immediately "I am not a dirty whore you sinner!"

"Annalyn, no. It's the cops. Be quiet," she said close to my ear as she grabbed onto me and tried to control me.

"No no! Bad bad bad bad! Go away you evil sinner. God and Mother Nature will come and take me away. You can't tempt me with your bidding. I am the child, Their child. No good will come of you if you cross me!" I continued to yell at the tallest one as I tried to throw myself at him to tackle him down. Lexie was holding onto me with all of her life.

"Stop, Annalyn!" Lexie screamed.

"Have you been doing drugs, ma'am?" the female cop asked Lexie.

"No no. She's not well. I swear we haven't done any drugs or drunken anything," she pleaded with the officers as they stood in the darkness, a power looming over them both. She just kept shaking her head and pleading with him as she held onto me tight.

"Ma'am, it looks like your friend is high on something right now."

"No, no, she wouldn't. She's sick. She needs a doctor. I don't know what's wrong with her, but please don't arrest her. She's done nothing wrong." Lexie started to cry.

"You made her cry! You made my friend cry, you devil worshipping dirty sinners!" I screamed out at them.

"I think you two had better come with us," the male officer sternly.

"No!" I screamed and broke loose of her hold on me and ran at him. He grabbed me with his strong arms and managed to push me down hard and pull my arms back. I could hear the clink of the handcuffs fastening to my wrists.

I could feel hands on me as I screamed. They were stripping away my clothes and holding me down. Hands all over me and all of my limbs. I struggled against them but I couldn't break loose.

"Sinners! You can't get to my insides. I'm protected! I'm protected!" I yelled out as they held me down. They pressed hard on my legs and arms to restrain me but I continued to fight.

"Do you have it ready?" I heard one of them say in a calm voice. I tried to look up at what they were doing but I couldn't turn my head enough to see behind myself. I was face down on a vinyl mattress.

Suddenly I felt something jab into my butt.

"What the hell are you doing to me?" I cried. My heart beat fast as tears flooded down my face. "You can't have me for your doing. I won't submit! I won't submit!" My face felt hot as I screamed. My butt stung from whatever they stuck in me.

Soon they all got up and rushed to the door. I heard it shut loudly and then a voice came through the door.

"We'll come back and talk to you later, Annalyn," one of them said in an eerily calm voice. I knew they had some sort of diabolical plan for me and they wanted my cooperation. I realized that I was now free to move again and I quickly got up and ran towards the door to look out. It had a small window in it. This room opened up into a small area with a small reception-like desk with a computer. There was a women in blue scrubs there looking at some papers. Across from her was another women in a white lab coat. There were some chairs with a young man sitting in them next to what looked like his worried mother. She was holding his hand as he sat there shaking. I didn't know what sort of place I was imprisoned in but I thought it might be a laboratory. They must be running some sort of tests on me. For what purpose, I had no idea, but I knew it had to be bad. These people were devil-worshippers and had to be stopped.

I turned and looked around the room. It was small and lit by a florescent light in the middle of the ceiling. There was a single vinyl mattress on the floor with one heavy dark blue quilted-looking blanket. It was tossed to the side of the room haphazardly. I went and picked up the heavy blanket for a moment and then threw it down on the mattress in frustration. Tears began to fall again. This was my prison cell in some laboratory and soon I would be tortured and subjected to tests.

I looked into the corner and noticed a toilet. But it didn't look like any toilet I had seen before. It was metal and at the top was a little fountain for washing my hands. There was no toilet paper. In fact, there was nothing else in the room. No window, nothing.

I took in a few deep breaths but suddenly a rush of anger came towards me and I threw myself at the door and started banging on it as loud as I could.

"I won't submit! I won't submit!" I screamed until my throat was raw.

I just kept banging on the door loudly. My hands soon hurt but it didn't matter. I didn't know what else to do. Maybe the door wasn't that strong. Maybe if I banged long enough it would come down. I felt so lost.

"Let me out of here you sinners!" I cried. "Please, you can't have me!"

No one came. I threw my fists at the door even harder and harder as I screamed and cried. My face felt hot with rage, fury and all the blood that must be rushing to it as I cried my eyes out.

Suddenly I sunk to the ground and wept into my hands. My body shook as I sobbed.

"Please, somebody help me!" I screamed through my hands. "Somebody!"

No one came and I wept harder, throwing my head back against the door as I heard it bang. I didn't care about the pain. Pain was nothing in comparison to the fear of being there. I breathed hard and heavy as my knuckles throbbed. I looked down and saw a little bit of blood on them. I licked them and then rubbed them against the skin on my stomach.

It was at that point that I realized I was naked with only my underwear on but no bra. I had a sudden sinking feeling in my stomach. It must have been an evil laboratory. What were they gonna do the me? I was a test subject, a guinea pig, and it terrified me.

My heart palpitated and I felt a rush of blood to my face. I could feel my lungs trying to suck in air but I felt like I couldn't breathe. There was too much panic inside of me.

"Let me out of here!" I screamed out in an exasperated hoarse voice. "You'll be punished. They will punish y—" I let out a gasp. I couldn't scream anymore. I took in several deep breaths until I started to shudder. What the hell were they gonna do to me here? I had never been so scared in my life.

I started to feel woozy from all my screaming and lay my head down on the floor where I had been sitting against the door. It was cold but I couldn't bear to move. The fear had too much of a hold on me, so I lay on the floor crying as I shut my eyes and just breathed quick and heavily.

My head hurt as I awoke on the hard floor. I lifted it up slightly and felt a rush of blood pound through it. I was slightly dizzy as I sat up. I ran my hands over my face and through my hair and then stood up. I turned and looked at the window in the door to find that it had been blocked on the outside. There must have been a little door to the little window. I felt a rush of frustration. Now I couldn't even look out.

"I hate you!" I yelled through the door.

I threw my fists at the door as an intense pain shook through them. I looked down and noticed the bruises on my knuckles from my previous banging. There was some dried blood as well.

"Damn it," I muttered to myself. "Stupid people. I hate these stupid people. God will have their hides. God will eat them up and spit them out and step on them and ruin their lives and..."

I spat on the door and watched my saliva slide down the pale pink door. I suddenly felt gross for doing that. I didn't know why I did it at all. I was just so mad and there was nothing I could do about it in that little room with its boring cream walls that looked like they were constructed of big bricks that had been painted many times. I guess they didn't want people breaking through drywall.

My stomach growled. I realized I didn't know how long I had been in that room sleeping. I felt a terrible churning feeling in my stomach. I didn't even know if they fed their captives. I took the side of my fist and banged on the door.

"I'm hungry! It's cruel not to feed people. Give me something now or else!" I yelled as I banged a few more times.

A moment later the door to the window opened and a female with short curly brown hair looked in.

"Annalyn, we will bring you some food but you have to sit down on the mattress and stay there while we come in. Can you do that for us?" she asked in a calm manner, her face not smiling nor frowning. She looked pleasant with her soft face, but I didn't trust her. Whoever these people were, they probably sent in their most harmless-looking people to talk to the captives. I was highly skeptical of her, but nonetheless I nodded. I wanted to eat.

"And you aren't going to try and hurt us when we come in?" she asked.

"No," I said quietly and then turned and sat on the mattress.

"We'll be back in a few minutes with some food," the women said and then left.

I waited for what felt like forever. I wanted to jump off the mattress and go bang on the door and give them hell but I was so hungry.

"I'm starving!" I yelled from the mattress as I crossed my arms and looked down angrily. "Hurry the hell up!" I didn't even know if they could hear me without me being right by the door. I sighed heavily.

A couple minutes later, someone appeared at the door. This time it was a man with a serious look on his face.

"Annalyn, we are coming in now. Stay on the mattress," he instructed her.

I squinted my eyes into an evil-eyed frown as the door opened so the first thing they would see was my absolute hatred and discontent at all of this. The door opened outward and several people all dressed in casual clothes entered the room. I counted four people, two women, two men. They crowded in the room and the last person came in with a Styrofoam plate with some food on it and two paper cups. She placed them on top of the fountain on the toilet.

All six people were standing there staring at me. I felt their eyes crawling all over me as if they could penetrate my skin. Perhaps they weren't human. Maybe they had something to do with the devil. They were sinners, devil-worshippers. Maybe they were demons taking human form. I felt very vulnerable not knowing what their gaze could to do me.

"Annalyn, how have you been feeling?" the first women asked in a polite and calm voice.

"I won't submit," I muttered giving her my eye-piercing stare.

"You won't submit to what?" she asked me, still calm. Her face looked soft and gentle. It only made me more suspicious of her.

"To your will. I'm not a sinner. I won't do your evil bidding," I said in a low tone. I moved my bitter gaze across all of their faces and then back at her.

"Do you know where you are, Annalyn?" the woman asked me.

"In your laboratory. I know what you are planning. I'm not a lab rat! I won't comply. I'll make your life hell, I'll make all your experiments fail. You won't get away with this." I practically growled with that last sentence.

"You are in Cedar Ridge Hospital in the psychiatric emergency. I'm a nurse and I'll be taking care of you today. My name is Nora." She smiled slightly. "Do you know what day it is today?"

"I don't even know how long you've been keeping me in this room. It's October though. I should be in school. I'm gonna fail if you don't let me go! There are exams. I have papers due." I started to panic. "That's what I was doing before you people came and took me away. I had to catch up on all my work because I was so depressed. You stupid people are gonna make me fail. My father will kill you! This isn't a hospital, you sinners. How dare you lie and tell me I'm a psycho!" I yelled at them, very tempted to get off the mattress and scream straight in her face.

"You've been here since last night. The nurses last night had to give you some medication to calm you down" Nora, the supposed nurse, told me. Her face looked completely un-phased by what she was telling me.

"What the hell did you give me?!"

"They gave you an something to sedate you."

"Go to hell! I hate you. Just leave. I'm not gonna be your lab rat. I won't help the devil. I won't submit! I won't comply!" I started screaming as I jumped off the mattress and started stamping my foot on the cold hard ground and shaking my arms at them.

Suddenly they all piled out of the room and the door shut with a bang. I guess I scared them. Pathetic. I ran to the door and started pounding on it with increased confidence.

"I'll kill you sinners! If you come back I'll kill you!" I screamed as I pounded the sides of my fists on the door. The loud banging sound it made each time I pounded into the door made me feel more thrilled. I just wanted to scream at them and intimidate them as much as I could. "Sinners will die, you stupid fools. Sinners will perish when God rises up. When Mother Nature rises in the dawn's light, the sinners will die. You will die," I spoke prophetically as my eyes felt like they were burning with passion for the people I really did serve. I knew that somehow Mother Nature would save me. God wouldn't leave me behind in this place.

I had shoveled down their food. A bologna and cheese sandwich, apple slices, and chocolate pudding. Two glasses of milk. And now there was nothing left to do. Nothing left to do in that stupid room. I wanted to scream. I did scream, many times. I paced the room, walking back and forth. I walked from wall to wall. Then I walked the border of the room, tracing the walls with my finger as I walked. I looked at every inch. It took me hours, but I examined the whole room for defects. There was no way out. So I paced. And thought. But I couldn't figure anything out. My mind was racing full of things, useless ideas, intangible things I could do, but really couldn't do for they were impossible. I thought perhaps there was a vortex in the room and I could escape through it, but I couldn't find any sign of one. So I paced again and again, my thoughts a jumble inside of my mind.

Maybe I was strong enough to break down the door. I was the child of Mother Nature. I was special. Perhaps they had endowed me with a strength I didn't know I had. I went up to the door and examined it. There was nothing to hold onto. There was nothing for leverage, nothing to break or pull at. I had to use sheer force and just break it down. I crossed over to the back of the room and took in a deep breath.

"I hate you! I hate this! I'll get out of here you sinners!" I screamed. I ran full force at the door, slamming the side of my body into it with a boom. I could feel my whole arm bruise against the door. I let out a wail in pain.

"Do it. Do it again. Just do it again," I coached myself. "I am a gift.

I am capable of great things. Do it again!" I screamed at myself as I reached the back of the room and once again, I ran at the door screaming profanities as my body crashed into it.

"Owe!" I screeched with all my breath.

I started breathing heavily as I shook my arm and began to rotate my shoulder. "Oh, damn it, this hurts," I muttered to myself.

Keep breathing, keep breathing, keep breathing I thought. One more time. Gotta keep going. I scrunched up my face. Then I ran and this time I screamed loudly as I hit the door and fell to the floor, kicking and screaming as I lay there face down.

"You stupid people will die. I swear on my life that you will die!" My voice turned shrill. I breathed heavily, completely exasperated from what I had been doing.

Gotta get up. Gotta get up. I got up and paced around the room, tears streaming down my face. My arm was throbbing with pain. My shoulder could hardly move. I could see the redness of the blood rushing to my skin.

"Ah, I hate you! I hate you," I growled.

My breath heaved inside of me. I felt like an animal inside of a cage as I grunted and wrinkled up my face, crying and screaming. I needed to throw something. There was nothing to throw. My thoughts raced and I couldn't calm down. I paced for a few more minutes until I found myself at the metal toilet. I took the Styrofoam plate and tore it to pieces, letting my face clench with each tear. Soon it was in pieces on the floor. Next came the Styrofoam bowl, and then the paper cups. There were traces of milk and smears of chocolate pudding on the floor where the pieces lay. And then there was nothing left to ruin. I took in a deep breath before letting out another scream.

"Let me out of this hell!" I threw my hands at the door and pounded on it, palms open and slapping.

Suddenly a face appeared. Nora. She startled me. My heart began to pound.

"Please, let me out of here. I'm not the devil's child. Just let me go," I pleaded, tears streaming down my hot face.

"Annalyn, please sit down on the mattress while we come in," she said calmly, her face portraying nothing of her intent. I peered into her eyes through the little window and tried to read her. I couldn't. She was good at hiding her true nature. Sinners and devil-worshippers are good like that.

"Let me out! Let me out! Let me out, let me out, let me out..." I kept repeating it as I slapped the door with my palms.

"Annalyn, I need you to sit on the mattress. Can you do that for me?"

"Let me out lemme out lemme out lemme out..." I cried.

"We only want to help you. But you need to sit down on the mattress so we can come in and do that."

I looked into her eyes and nodded as I whimpered. I went and sat down on the edge of the mattress and buried my face in my hands as I heard the door open and a pile of people enter the room. I peered through my hands to count their feet. Four people.

"Annalyn, we're going to give you something to help you sleep," Nora explained.

"No," I whined. "I want out. Lemme out." I sounded like a child. I felt like a child pleading to be let out of a time out. But this was more than that. I wasn't a child. I was a captive in a laboratory. Soon they would torture me and run their tests on me. They had to subdue me first.

"Lie face down on the mattress for us. We'll give you a quick injection and then you can sleep."

I jumped up at the word injection and ran at the crowd of them, flailing my arms around to hit as many of them as I could. Suddenly, their hands were all over me. They were jumping me, as if a gang of muggers to rob me. I was soon face down on the mattress feeling the pressure of each hand on my legs and arms... and head. They had my head down as I struggled. I wriggled my whole body around but their grips were strong.

"Ouch!" I screamed as the needle went into my butt. "Leave me alone! I won't submit. I won't submit. I won't submit!"

And then the hands were gone and there was a shuffling of feet and a slam of the door. The light went out. I got up and looked around to find darkness.

"I don't want to sleep. You can't make me sleep. I'll stay awake forever."

I went to the window to look out, but it closed. Darkness.

I felt my way over to the mattress and sat down, hugging onto the blanket as I sobbed into it. I didn't know what they would do to me once I was asleep. I had to stay awake. I rocked back and forth as I sat on the edge of the mattress, feeling the cold ground at my bare feet. I kept rocking and rocking, breathing heavily, exasperated and desperate for release from this place. I started to wonder if this was some strange version of hell. Perhaps I'd spend eternity here in their 'mental institution' version of hell. God was punishing me for the sex, for the drinking and partying. This was my hell and I was doomed to be crazy and alone in the darkness forever.

Chapter 9

Shame. It was a deep feeling that gnawed at my abdomen, gutting my insides and twisting my stomach tight until a lump in my throat formed and the overwhelming urge to cry took over. I felt the shivery tears slip down my cheeks as I watched them fall into my lap. One by one they made an irregular dot pattern on the beige hospital pajama pants I was wearing. I held out my hand and let them collect in my palm for a moment before I wiped them on my pant leg. The pain was moving up and suddenly I felt suffocation. My chest went tight and felt like it was being torn apart at the sternum. I gasped for air as I cried out silently.

"Make the pain go away," I whispered to myself.

I banged my fists on the soft bed below me. But in lack of satisfaction, I got up and slammed them down on the bedside table a few times until they throbbed.

"Go the hell away!" My whispers were louder this time.

I banged my fists hard and fast in a blitz onto the table. Then the rush of pain flooded to my throat and I fell to the bed sobbing hard as I felt my chest rise and fall sharply with each whimper. I forced in each breath until my breathing became steady and it began to calm me. As I buried my face in the knitted pale blue blanket, I felt the dampness on my cheeks from the tears. I sat up and pulled my legs up to my chest and hugged them as I rocked back and forth slightly.

"Why?" I let a moment pass and then my face crinkled up and more tears fell. "Why me? What did I do?" I whimpered into my knees.

There was a knock at the door and I jumped up and ran towards the corner, my heart palpitating in my chest. The door opened slowly and the nurse's head peaked in with a gentle smile.

"Hi Annalyn. Can I come in?" the woman said as the light from the window flooded against her dark skin and made her black hair shine.

"Sure." I shrugged and stood in the corner as my fingers trembled and I bit my lip.

"How are you finding the unit?" she asked gently. Her eyes were a warm brown and softened as she smiled slightly. I remembered her name was Leah from when they brought me up from the emergency to the unit.

"I don't know." I looked at the floor.

"Have you left your room at all?" I shook my head. "I can see that you are nervous about leaving your room, but there is a lounge with a radio, a TV room, and a game room that you might like once you are ready to leave your room. Feel free to explore the unit. One of us can give you a tour when you are feeling up to it."

I hesitated. "That's okay." My eyes never left the floor.

"How is your mood?"

"It's fine. I'm ready to go home now," I said. My voice was a little louder but still mumbled. I quickly glanced at the nurse, and as our eyes met and I rushed to look at the floor.

"If you could rate your mood on a scale of one to ten, one being the worst, ten being the best, what would you say it is?"

"Does it matter? I just want to go home." My voice was meek and squeaky like a frightened mouse.

"Yes, it does matter. It's important that you help us help you get better by cooperating with us."

"One."

"Sounds bad. What can I do to help you feel better?"

I shook my head stiffly. "I don't know."

"Do you feel like hurting yourself?" she asked as she looked at me with a serious gaze in her eyes, but her mouth still soft and almost smiling.

"Please let me go home," I said in a whimper.

"Annalyn, are you thinking about hurting yourself?" I stared past her, letting my eyes blur over as I pursed my lips slightly.

"Are you thinking about hurting anyone else?" I shook my head. "I know you don't want to be here, but are you going to try and run away from the hospital?" She continued looking at me as I stared past her. After a moment I shook my head, knowing that it was for the best regardless of the truth.

"Annalyn, can you make me a promise that if you think about hurting yourself, you will come and talk to me or another nurse instead of doing anything to yourself?"

I nodded. My eyes glazed over as I peered at the door, wanting to run, to escape, be free. "Can I be alone now?"

"Come and talk to me if you need anything. We are here to help you, okay?" She smiled lightly and left, leaving the door open behind her.

I went and lay down in bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. I let the tears fall from my eyes onto the sheets. After a moment, a shudder took over me and I whimpered into the blanket. Tears flooded. Images berated my mind. I saw myself in the seclusion room, pacing back and forth like a tiger ready to pounce on the next person I saw. I felt the rage. My arm hurt from all the times I collided with the door. My knuckled were scraped up and sore.

I swallowed hard as a lump formed in my throat. Shame, I thought to myself. All there was to feel now was the deep horrible shame of knowing what I had become. I calmed down after a couple days of being in that room. I was so drowsy from the injections they were giving me. Yesterday afternoon, after a day and a half, I crashed back into the depression that had its claws on me before. I was confused. I didn't know how my mood could go on such a roller coaster. I didn't know if they wanted me depressed, if it was the drugs that did it. I didn't know why they wanted me to be depressed and hurting. I didn't know why they were forcing me to be imprisoned in the hospital.

After the depression set in, I realized that I was in a hospital. It all made sense as if I fog had lifted and a new one had set in. The next morning, they brought me out of the seclusion room in the emergency department. I had to walk through the hospital in only a gown and thin papery slippers with a security guard and a nurse. They paraded me up to the 3rd floor of the hospital where I settled in my room on the psych ward. The nurse gave me instructions about the ward but it was all glossed over as the rush of nerves and over-stimulation got to me.

As I lay in bed, I thought of Lexie for the first time since I had been there. I didn't know what happened to her. Was she arrested by the cops that had come to take me away? And my parents? Did they know where I was? Were they worried? Were they mad? I was afraid to phone them. I didn't even know if there was a phone I could use. I let the tears slip down my face as I shuddered under the blankets. I closed my eyes tightly until I realized the images of the last few nights were worse that way. I stared at the window instead and let the light from the sunny day flood into my eyes and wash over my face. The bright sunlight felt stinging and I pulled the blankets over my head as I whimpered and cried.

"Annalyn?" I heard a soft voice. I realized I must have drifted to sleep.

"What?" I asked without lifting the blankets off my head.

"Lunch is here. I'll show you to the dining room."

I recognized the voice as the nurse who was there before. Her voice had a soft sweet tone to it, as if she actually cared. I didn't know if she did though being that these people were somehow making me depressed.

"I'm not hungry." I let my voice speak louder and more insistently. I couldn't let these people control me.

"It seems to me that you don't have a lot of energy right now. Eating your meals would likely help your energy levels. I think it would be good if you came and tried to eat, even if it's not the whole tray."

I could hear her voice getting closer like she was standing over me. My breathing quickened and I felt a fluttery anger inside my stomach.

"No. You people can't control me. I'm not here so you can do whatever you want to on me." I could feel my voice growing stronger. My muscles tensed and I clenched my whole body underneath the blanket.

"I won't force you to eat. But I encourage you to do so. A lot of people don't feel like eating when they're feeling depressed. But when you don't eat, you stop feeling good physically. You won't have as much energy and it won't help you feel better. Eating might help." Her voice was caring. But I felt tenser. I clutched my teeth together until my jaw was sore.

"Leave me alone." I said gruffly.

I took a deep breath and let it out heavily until there was no air left inside of me. Suddenly a lump formed in my throat and I struggled to swallow past it. Finally I heard footsteps getting distant and the door click shut.

I pulled the blanket tighter over my head until it felt taut. I rolled over onto my side facing the wall against the bed and hugged myself firmly. I let out a strong breath and then sucked in the air until I felt the pressure inside my lungs. I held it there and swallowed against the mass in my throat. Suddenly I shuddered and clenched up my face. I felt cold. My nerves grew inside my stomach.

I started to think about the situation, wondering how this all came about. I was a normal girl. I was studious and on my way to better things. I was released from the pain of my childhood and the tension of the house I grew up in when I moved out. I was free. How did this all happen? How did I fall apart? Did I even fall apart or was this part of some deception? I wasn't crazy. I was not crazy! I'm lying here in a psych ward, I thought. What the hell happened? Who the hell did this to me?

"Let me out of this hell!" I screamed in a hoarse breathy whisper. "What did I do to deserve this?" I whimpered quietly as my head spun and my forehead crinkled up.

Janey. This would be hard on her. Having a crazy sister. I wasn't crazy, was I? It didn't matter. They were saying I was. This would follow me for the rest of my life. Janey would never think me crazy though. But what if the kids at her school found out? I imagined she would be so hurt and scared at the idea of me being in here. I didn't even know if she knew where I was but I had to get a message to her that I wasn't crazy, that this was all some kind of disgusting joke, a deception of some kind, a mistake.

I ripped the blankets off my face and pulled my iron-laden body out of bed. As I put my bare feet onto the floor, I felt the chill on them. I didn't want to wear those ridiculous looking slippers though. As I reached for the door, I paused and took in a breath, open the door slowly. I swallowed, the lump feeling a little smaller but my stomach quivering more.

I walked slowly down the ward. It was a long hallway. My room was halfway to the middle of the hallway. As I walked down it, I looked to each side, seeing rooms similar to mine, though some of them had two beds with a curtain dividing them. As I got closer to the middle of the hallway, I noticed two bare rooms with mattresses on the floor and a similar windowed door like the seclusion room I was in. I felt a chill run down my spine and looked away. The lump in my throat returned and was bigger than ever. I kept walking. A few more paces and I found the nurses' station. It was a windowed room with a door that was open. There were shelves of binders on two sides. The room was bordered with desks attached to the wall and a couple computers. At the window, there were some toiletries like toothpaste and liquid soap. I approached the window as my stomach fluttered. My nurse looked up and smiled lightly.

"Hi. Did you need something?" she asked me in pleasant voice.

"I want to phone someone," I said in a plain voice.

"Sure. I'll show you where the phone is."

The nurse walked me down the hallway to a booth-like room with a windowed door and a phone inside. I walked inside it and sat on the stool.

"You'll need to dial nine first. Let me know if you have any troubles."

I shut the door and she walked away. I looked at the wall and noticed scribbles of numbers, profanities and little doodles. There were a few pen drawings of Satan and devil-like figures that made my stomach turn in knots.

My hand hovered over the phone. An invisible barrier existed between me and the receiver. I held my breath and closed my eyes. After twenty seconds or so, I breathed out and let my hand dive for the receiver. I picked it up and held it to my ear. I dialed slowly being sure that I correctly and diligently pressed each number. It started ringing. Each ring felt sharp in my ear. Suddenly I realized that my sister might not pick up the phone. My parents might recognize my voice. I couldn't bear to talk to them yet.

I slammed down the phone and let out a startled breath. My breathing went shallow as I sat there staring at the beige phone.

There was a knock at the window. "I want to use the phone." I looked and shoed the person away with a flick of my wrist. Another knock.

"I'm using it!" I screamed through the glass. The unkempt man looked at me indignantly with his bulging eyes before he turned away and stomped off.

I stared at the phone again. "Oh my God," I muttered under my breath as I looked up and closed my eyes tightly. I paused for a moment and then slumped down and let my head fall into my hands. I shook my head and quickly grabbed the receiver.

Ring. I shuddered. Ring. My heart pounded. "Hello?" my mother answered. My heart stopped beating for a moment. "Hello, is anyone there?"

"Uh...um... is Janey there?" I said in a low voice.

"Just a minute."

My heart fell in my chest. I sighed heavily as I felt my breath bounce back against the receiver. I rubbed my eyes and suddenly heard her voice at the other end. It was a quiet and child-like voice with an edge of sadness to it.

"It's me." I said as my heart pounded.

"Annalyn? What the heck is going on? Mom and Dad won't tell me anything. Where are you? I've been freaking out for the past couple days."

"In the hospital," I said regretfully.

"You're hurt?" Her voice squeaked.

"No—" I stopped. I couldn't speak.

"I don't understand. You guys are freaking me out. Just tell me what the hell is going on!"

"I'm..." I breathed deeply, feeling my throat clog up. "in the psych ward."

There was silence but I could hear broken breathing.

"Janey, I'm not crazy. This is just stupid crap. You've got to believe me. I'm not... I'm—" I choked on my words as the tears trickled down my face. "I'm not a lunatic. I'm not some freak. You know me. You know that I'm not. Don't let them trick you into thinking that there is something wrong with me. This is all so stupid. It's a deception. It's some misunderstanding. I don't know what it is. But I'm locked up here. I've been locked in a room. They've been drugging me and," my voice was broken and deep with emotions. "I just want to come home."

"You—" She stopped as her voice sounded like it was boiling with emotions. "I just... please tell me you didn't do anything to yourself again. Did you try to kill yourself?" Her voice sounded bitter and angry.

"No. No, I didn't. I didn't do anything. You've got to believe me," I pleaded with her as tears ran a river down my face.

"How can I!" she screamed shrill through the phone, piercing my ear.

"What?" I gasped.

"You sliced yourself up! How am I supposed to trust anything you say? I don't even know who you are anymore." Her words cut through my chest.

"Janey, please."

"No. You don't even care about what you've been doing to people. Lexie's been over here crying while they have their secret meetings. Mom cries all the time. Dad's been screaming at her. He's been screaming at me. He's so upset, so mad. I'm scared of him and it's all because of you. You've torn the family apart. You've gone too far this time, Annalyn, and you aren't even around to see it." Her voice was fierce until she broke down and started sobbing and wailing. I could hear her muttering how unfair this was. She asked God why. She cursed at him.

I waited a moment and then I tried to speak past the enormous mass in my throat. "Janey, I'm so sorry. I didn't do any of this on purpose. I never meant—" my voice broke, "to hurt you. I love you so much. You are what keeps me going in life. I can't do this without you. Please don't abandon me when I need you so badly. We are sisters. We have a special connection. Don't let go of that just because of some stupid thing like this," I cried.

"You don't even know," she sobbed. "You don't even know how hard it is for me. I don't want to be screamed at. I don't want to listen to him and wonder how far he could go. I've never been scared like this. I've never wondered what he was capable of before. I never wondered what you were capable of. You've changed everything. You've ruined everything. You go off and do something so selfish and stupid like killing yourself and now you don't even take responsibility for it. You don't even accept how screwed up you've made all of us. You don't even know what you've done."

"I do know. How can you think I don't? I sat in a locked room with a mattress on the floor for two days. I think I know things are screwed up. I think I know how my life is ruined. You talk about yourself; you talk about mom and dad. What about me? My life is over now. I'm locked up in a psych ward and I don't know if I will ever get out. What about me? And now..." I couldn't speak, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. I was frozen in time until I finally forced the words out. "I'm losing my sister."

I could only hear her breathing. It was unsteady and riddled with sobbing whimpers. I waited for her to speak and she didn't. Minutes went by with only thick silence. I felt like I was suffocating as I sat there unable to speak past her silence, past her sorrow and pain. I tried to breath but it was only shallow. I couldn't get in deep breaths anymore because my chest had become so tight. I leaned into the wall and lay my head against it. I swallowed past the horrible lump and felt the flesh inside my mouth stick together.

"I—" suddenly she spoke quiet and whispery. I sat up and listened as I tried to breathe quiet enough to hear it. My heart wouldn't shut up as it beat fast.

"Wha—"

She cut me off. "I need to—" She breathed heavily into the phone. "I don't know. I don't think I can do this," she whispered.

"Tell me what you need," I pleaded.

"Um..." I could hear her breathing in fragments. "Leave me alone, okay. I need to be alone." Click. Dial tone.

I let out a heavy breath and a broken wail as my head dove into my hands. My chest ached with intense piercing throbs. I felt dizzy. Drowning in the water. Tears drowning my face. This was not happening.

I let my body lean heavily against the wall as I gasped and began huffing. My head fell against my fisted hands as tears streaked across my knuckles. My body shook with each sob. My guts ached with a physical pain, a hollow cramping clenching pain. I tried to breath past the enormous lump that stabbed into my throat.

Suddenly the booth went dark and I felt a shiver come over me. I let the corner of my eye glance out from above my fists. Someone was standing at the door. He banged on the door. His eyes were staring at me sharply. My chest throbbed painfully, each rapid pang echoing into my ears. I buried my head into my hands, keeping the corner of my eye on the shadowed figure.

"Marvin, what's going on?" a man asked and within a few seconds, the door was creaking open.

"Don't hurt me," I whimpered as I curled up on the stool.

"Annalyn, my name is Jonathan. I'm a nurse. I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly.

"No, no, I don't believe you!" My voice grew louder.

"I can see that you are anxious. Many people find it overwhelming when they first come here."

"No. Please. I don't want to be manipulated and tortured by you people."

"No one is trying to manipulate or torture you. If you come out of the phone room, I can take you back to your room and you can get some rest. How does that sound?"

"I can't. No. I have to go home. My father is going to kill my sister. She hates me. It's all falling apart. It's all falling apart because you're keeping me here locked up and tortured. You all want me to die. Go to hell! You've made my life hell. It's all hell," I yelled as tears streamed down my hot face.

"Annalyn, it's Leah, your nurse. I want to help you. Will you help me do that?"

I shook my head forcefully as I clenched up my fists and held them to my mouth. My heart pounded so loud I was sure they could hear it. It was echoing throughout the room.

"Here is something to help you feel better." She held out a tiny paper cup and something to drink it down with.

"Please don't drug me. I don't want to rot here until the end of time. I don't want my insides to be eaten alive. You all want me to die here and I have done nothing wrong."

"Take this pill and I will help you to your bed. I can sit with you for a little while if that will help you feel more comfortable," Leah said gently.

I leapt off the stool and pushed past them into the hallway, throwing my fists into the wall as I wailed sharply.

"Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop! I can't be your drug slave. Drugging me won't cure your insane need to torture me!"

I sank into the floor and curled up into my knees as the cold chill of the floor made me tremble.

"Nonononono..." I muffled into my pajamas, letting the fabric absorb my tears.

I felt hands on me, prompting me to get up. I curled up more and tensed my muscles so they couldn't move me.

"Annalyn, you can either take this orally or we will give you a needle. It is your choice."

"Nononononono..." I cried, curling up into myself even tighter. I wailed into my knees while the world around me blurred over. I could hear them talking to me gently. Insisting I get up.

"Annalyn, you need to get up now. We're going to give you something to help calm you down," Leah said more firmly.

"What!" I groaned into my knees.

"Come on. This will help." Hands were tugging at me, pulling me apart as I resisted. My heart throbbed as I held my breath. They pulled my body to the side and I felt the needle jab painfully into my butt.

"Hell!" I screamed. "You put me in hell." I threw my head back against the wall as a pain rippled through it. I banged my head again and again. Pain, tense and throbbing ringing through my head. Their hands were on my arms and legs, struggling against me. I felt myself in the air, hands all over me, restraining me as they carried me down the hall and soon I found myself on the vinyl mattress again. Doors shutting fast into the silence of the darkness.

The smell of shabby hospital food invaded my nose. I sat there staring at the tray of lumpy mashed potatoes, chicken and a mix of plain cooked vegetables. My stomach sank into my abdomen, praying me not to eat. I crinkled up my nose and pushed the tray away.

I glanced around the dining room filled with round tables and chairs seated with other patients. Some of them were eating eagerly and others were picking at their food with disgust on their face. I felt my skin crawl and I wrapped my arms around myself. My guts were fluttering. My neck felt tight and my mouth smothered.

Suddenly I noticed the eyes of one of the nurses on me. She wasn't giving away anything on her face but I knew she had noticed I wasn't eating. I looked down at my tray and pulled it back towards me. I stabbed my fork into the mashed potatoes and took a meager bite. I let the warm mush sink into my tongue. My throat felt like it was protesting as it tightly resisted my forced swallowing with a growing lump. I forced the food down as tears formed in my eyes. I looked up at the nurse and seeing that she had turned her attention elsewhere, I packed up my tray and put it back on the trolley.

"Did you have some dinner, Annalyn?" Leah asked me as she poked her head out of the nursing station. I nodded and rushed past her towards my room, my stomach twirling.

As I reached my door, I felt her presence behind me.

"How are you feeling, Annalyn?"

"Fine."

"You've been out of seclusion for an hour now. How is your mood now?"

"Fine."

"You banged your head pretty hard on the wall. Is it hurting at all?"

I shook my head even though I did have a dull headache.

"Have you been having any thoughts of hurting yourself?" she asked bluntly.

"No."

"What about hurting anyone else?" I shook my head. "What's your mood on a scale of one to ten?"

"It's a ten. I'm feeling on top of the world," I glared at her before turning around and heading to bed.

"Annalyn, I want to help you but you have to let me do that." She smiled lightly but her eyes remained serious.

"I don't need help."

"Annalyn, tell me about why you are here?" She never let her voice stray from the soft gentle nurse she pretended to be.

"I have no fricken clue. Why don't you tell me?" I let my tone deepen with disgust as I felt like kicking the door shut in her face. "You tried to hurt a police officer. When the doctors saw you, they thought you were suffering from a manic episode. Do you know what manic means?"

"It means I'm crazy. You goddamn people think you know everything. I'm not manic. I never was. I'm not crazy. You goddamn people." I looked her straight in the eye with my piercing stare. "It's part of a mood disorder. It means your mood is a lot higher than normal, but it can also mean you're really irritable and agitated, which is how the doctors in the emergency described you. You had to be sedated because you were behaving aggressively towards the staff and threatening them. You said they were demons. Do you remember that?" I walked up to her and stared straight into her eyes forcefully. "I am not crazy!"

"Annalyn, please do not come up to other people like that. There are personal boundaries people like to keep." Her voice stayed calm but nonetheless, I wanted to throw her down to the ground.

"I am not crazy." I growled. "I don't understand why you people think I am."

"It seems to me that you have been feeling more depressed since you came up to the unit. Sometimes when you have a mood disorder, your mood can swing from one extreme to the other. Do you feel like that is happening now?"

"I am not crazy. Not crazy!" I screamed.

"Are you feeling agitated, Annalyn?"

"Please just leave me alone."

"I'll let you have some time to yourself, Annalyn, but please come and talk to me if you need anything." Her soothing voice could easily fool anyone into believing her false sincerity, but at that moment I had an inability to trust anyone.

I went and sat on my bed, a deep frown wrinkling the skin around my mouth, and stared out the window. It was a sunny day. The sun pierced into my eyes like bitter daggers, taunting me with the happiness of the world that had become forbidden to me.

I imagined part of being in the psych ward was reflecting on oneself. I sat there going over the events in my head. I had been unhappy. There was no doubt in my mind about that. I went to my parents' house and stupidly cut up my wrist in a desperate attempt at salvation from my sadness. But I was fine after that. It was like that event triggered the life-loving soul inside of me to stop taking for granted the beauty of life. And so I lived and enjoyed life. I went the park that night because the stars were shining beautifully and I felt a call to come and relish the starlight. The police came and were annoyed that some young people were out there in the middle of the night. At that point, I yelled at them and I guess that really set them off because they ended up bringing me to the hospital. Why they didn't just give me a warning about not loitering in the park at night, I don't know. Lexie must have charmed her way out of being arrested. She was a charming and endearing person and perhaps she flirted with the male cop. I never had such flare or talent for getting myself out of such situations in that way. I didn't have that winning personality. I was a boring school girl and no cop would fall for me because I lacked the zest of a person like Lexie.

I looked around my plain and boring room with its cream walls. I had noticed earlier that some of the rooms were decorated with pictures, stuffed animals, drawings and other crafts. Some patients were wearing their own clothes. Supposedly it was a privilege that had to be earned. I had to earn the right to wear something other than this cheap hospital garb and to leave the stale air of this ward. I had to earn the right to privileges that any person, except for a prisoner who had committed a crime, would be afforded. I rolled my eyed and deepened the wrinkles on my forehead that had formed alongside my frowning gloominess. Suddenly I saw the light in the room dim and looked at the door to find my nurse standing there with a light smile on her face. I looked down at the floor as I began twiddling my thumbs tensely in my lap. "Annalyn, your parents have contacted the ward again. When I asked you this morning about releasing information to them, you didn't want to talk about it. Would now be a good time to talk about it?" There was a sinking feeling in my stomach as I nodded, not looking up from the floor. "Would you like us to release information about you to your parents? It's your choice."

"Okay," I said as I felt my body melt into my bed. I lowered my eyes even further.

"You need to sign this form. It just states that we can release information about you to your parents." She pulled the bedside table over and lay the crisp white form on it with a black pen.

I quickly filled it out and pushed the form across the table to where she stood. "Is that everything?" I asked.

"Have you called your parents yet? I noticed you were upset after you used the phone before. Were you talking to them?"

I looked at her hesitantly, wondering if I should volunteer any information to this woman. I sighed. "It wasn't them." I stared at the floor as I felt her hovering above me.

"Have you thought about calling them?" I shook my head. "A lot of people feel nervous about calling their families for the first time when they come on the unit."

"My dad will be angry. My mom will cry. I can't bare that." I hugged my arms around myself as I buried my chin in my chest.

"Have you ever been in this sort of situation before?" I shook my head. "Maybe they will react differently than you think. You can't know until you try. A lot of parents are so worried about their child that they are relieved to hear from them."

"I don't know. It's hard. I don't want to face any of this. I don't know what they will think because I hurt myself a few days ago and what if they think I tried to hurt myself again and that's why I'm here. What if they don't believe me when I tell them the truth."

"It seems to me that if you are afraid of what your parents will think of you being here, then it would be best if the explanation comes from you. It will give you a chance to tell them what's going on from your perspective. We can tell them what's in your file and what we know, but only you can tell them what you believe is the truth. I'm sure they would want to hear it from you."

"What if my father yells at me? What if he disowns me?" My voice grew tense and panicked as I winced.

"Has he ever shown any indication of wanting to disown you?" I shook my head as I looked up at her hoping that she would have some magical answer. "I don't know your father, but in most cases, parents are relieved to hear from their kids. If they don't hear from you, they will likely continue to worry."

"I guess." I took a deep breath and let it out through my nose as I let my chin sink into my chest.

"It's something to think about. Come find me if you want to talk about it some more, or anything else." I nodded and she smiled and left. My stomach fluttered as I looked at the sun coming in from the window. I felt like it was hailing over me, each ray beating over my head as it hit me. A tiny tear poked its way into my eye as the lump in my throat grew painful and large. I sighed and curled up into myself on the bed. The sun was growing lower in the sky, letting it pierce my eye more directly through the window. It stung my chest as my heart sank into the bed with the knowledge that the happiness it beheld had become forbidden from me. Perhaps my parents' love would soothe some of the longing in me. But what if their love had become as forbidden and lost to me as the fresh air and happiness outside that window?

Chapter 10

I sat on the edge of my bed as my thumbnail dug into the soft flesh of my hand. I looked at the indentations my nail made on my pale skin. Little red crescent shapes from each dig into my flesh. It didn't hurt. It was a soothing pierce and I sucked in my breath with each push into myself as it revitalized me. Soon my skin was littered with red marks. I let my index finger graze over them as they began to fade away.

I took in another deep breath and felt my heart rapidly pulsate inside of me. I was sure I had developed an arrhythmia while I sat there because my heart felt unsteady and I figured it had been skipping beats. My heart felt like it was jumping and every few moments, I swear it jumped out of sequence. Either way, it was pounding on my chest like a set of drums being hammered on by emotional human fists. And then it stopped altogether, along with my breathing, and the light went dark in my room as the presence of others stood in the doorway. I gasped for air and as I found my breath, I turned to them and instantly my head fell to my hands with an exasperation of weeping tears.

"Mom," I cried. My body threw itself up and down with each sob.

"Oh, Annalyn!" She threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. "Oh, my girl, my baby. Oh!"

Our body soon became in sync as we sobbed together, enmeshed in each other's arms. My heart began to beat again, my breathing came back, and I just let myself fall into her embrace.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed into her soft white sweater. "I'm so sorry, mommy."

"Shh... There's no need to apologize. We've been so worried about you," she said as she began to trail kisses on my forehead as she held my head in her hands, my hair entangled in her fingers.

"I screwed up, mommy. I'm so sorry. You have to save me from these people. Take me home, please." I let the last word stretch out as a child begging would.

She kissed my forehead one last time and I felt her breath sigh on my skin for a moment before she pulled away and held my face in her soft hands. She smiled, tears streaming down her face, her eyes serious and her forehead wrinkled with concern. She blinked away her tears and then spoke.

"We can't take you home, baby. Not today. But soon. I promise. Soon."

"No, mommy. I'm sorry. I'll be good. Please take me home. Please." I sobbed into her hands.

"The doctors are making you stay here. They say they can do that because you need treatment. I'm so sorry, I want to take you home, I really do, my precious little girl."

"Oh mom, please please! Don't make me stay here." My voice grew shrill as my heart began skipping beats again, this time more furiously.

"I'm sorry," her voice broke as the tears flowed down her face.

"We can get lawyers. We can fight this." His loud thundering voice echoed into my head as I shuddered. I had forgotten his presence in the midst of my mother's love.

"No, Neil. We can't. You know she needs to stay here," my mom said turning to him, pleading with him to understand what I knew she didn't want to say.

"Maggie, she can't stay here. We can't ensure her safety if she is here. We can't trust these people!"

"Mommy, please!" I cried.

"No. Annalyn, my sweet girl. You know I love you very much, but you need to stay here." My mom let her finger graze over my tearstained face.

"No, mommy! I love you. Please don't make me stay here. Mommy please!" My throat grew scratchy with my thrill pleads.

"Annalyn, I will call our lawyer. We'll have you out within a day."

"Neil! She has to stay here," she snapped.

"Maggie!" My father stamped his foot.

"No. I am not going to just sit by while you take her out of here. She needs treatment." She turned to me. "You are not well, Annalyn. You need to see that. Please don't see this as punishment. You are sick. You need doctors and nurses to make you better. Please see that." Her voice was firm.

"Mommy, no." I whimpered.

"I'm so sorry. I love you so much. Please see that you need help." I shook my head as she tried to cup my face in her hands.

"Maggie, let's go. I'm calling a lawyer. Annalyn, I'll be in touch." He headed out the door, the door to which he never fully entered, and waved at her to follow.

"No! No, please! Please don't leave me here!" I screamed as I rushed to him and pulled him by the arm.

"Annalyn, you will be out by tomorrow. Just trust me," my dad spoke insistently.

"No. Dad, please. You don't know what they do to me. They lock me in a dark room and drug me. Please. They might kill me. You have to take me with you. Please!" I pulled on his arm, trying to drag his solid body to my room.

"I can't very well call the lawyer if I am here, now can I? Be rational. I'll have you out in a day. You can survive until then. They won't hurt you because they know if they screw around with you, I'll have their heads. I wouldn't rest until their bodies were ground into pulp."

I nodded as I cried and let go of his strong arm. I felt my mom's touch on my shaking hands.

"You will be okay. I will be back tomorrow to see you," she said with a broken smile. She brushed the hair out of my face and let her thumbs wipe away my tears.

I couldn't speak as they walked away from me. I stood there in the hallway as the salty tears streamed down my face and stung the chapped skin of my lips. I watched them disappear through the locked doors.

It was a rare thing to hear my mom stand up to my dad like she did that afternoon. As I sat on my bed, I wondered what the consequences would be for her. Would he scream at her while she repeated "I'm sorry" over and over again? Would he stew in quiet anger while the intensity of the house grew to a thickness only a butcher's knife could cut? Would he suddenly snap? Break her in half like a twig. Or shatter her spirit like he did time and time again. Crumble her into fear, fear of speaking the truth, or angering the beast, fear of being anything other than that happy façade. My mother breathed fear.

I remember the first time I realized she was afraid of my father. I was six.

"I'm tired. I don't want to walk back," Lydia complained as she stamped her feet and shuffled behind. Her bratty eyes rolled as she crossed her arms.

"Let's take a short cut then, sweetheart. We can walk along the train tracks," Mom told her.

"No, I don't wanna. Trains are scary!" I whimpered as I pulled my mom's arm towards the trail.

"Don't be a baby, stupid head," Lydia said as she stuck out her tongue and then ran off ahead towards the tracks.

I looked back at the woods with the trail covered in bark mulch. I lingered there, staring at it in protest of going ahead. Her soft hand took my little one as she led me towards the tracks. I looked up at my mother as my bottom lip puckered out.

"It will be okay, sweetie. Come along."

The tracks looked daunting as the parallel lines drew ahead, appearing to merge into each other.

"I can't see our car. It's too far this way. Let's go back, mommy."

"Come along, Annalyn. This way is shorter." Mom pointed ahead to a group of bushy green trees. "Look over there. The parking lot is just behind those trees."

She held my hand as my sister skipped ahead of us by several metres, waving her arms in the air. Soon she began to walk along the track, balancing on it as she kept falling off.

I glanced at my mom nervously and held her hand tight, my palm pushing into hers. I let go as I saw a creek up ahead. The train tracks turned into a bridge over top of it. My heart pounded as my guts felt like they were crushing inside of me. I walked faster towards the bridge, getting ahead of my sister. The other side was freedom, a trail at end of it leading back into the woods.

"Train!" Lydia screeched.

I looked. I panicked. My heart leapt inside my chest and I screamed "Train!"

Ahead was a train coming towards us.

Mom came up behind us and grabbed both of our hands, yanking us along as she ran across the train bridge. I screamed inside my head but no words would come out my mouth as I breathed heavily. We got to the gravel path and ran down it as the roaring of the tracks shook beside us. Shearing of metal on metal, sharp wheels tearing ahead, wind passing us, my hair blowing in my face as I looked back at the brown rusty cars speeding by. Ahead there was a chain-link fence and mom helped Lydia climb it. She lifted me over it as my heart jumped five paces ahead of me.

"Come on!" Lydia yelled as she grabbed my hand and led me away from the fence. Mom climbed over and hurried towards us, pulling us towards her as she huddled onto us.

"We're okay," she said breathlessly. "We're okay." She breathed heavily for a moment and then bent down to me, brushing the piece of hair that was sticking to my lips aside. She held onto both my hands and smiled at me as tears streamed down my hot face and the salt tickled the tip of my tongue as I licked my lips.

"It's okay, sweetie." Her eyes were glossing over but she never let the tears fall as she kept on smiling, her forehead wrinkled as her eyebrows scrunched together. "Lydia, come here." She let go of one of my hands as she pulled Lydia close to us. Lydia didn't speak. Her wide eyes were glossed over too. She turned around and showed Mom a rip in the seat of her purple sweatpants from climbing over the fence. My mouth rounded as I mouthed the words "uh oh".

"Don't worry about it, okay," Mom said as she graced her hand over Lydia's flush face. Mom looked at me and then again at Lydia, her eyes grave but a smile was forcing itself onto her face. "Let's not tell your father this," she said in a quivering voice that tried to sound positive and happy. We both nodded. She tightened her grip on my hand as she swung our arms back and forth for a moment. Mom smiled and got up, guiding us both down the path towards the parking lot.

I never told. Whenever a train screeches by me, I shudder and my heart jumps inside my chest. As they go by, I'm screaming inside.

I remember rumbles through the floor that night as I stuck my ear down to the scratchy carpet. I listened to the muffled voices that yelled and screamed and cried from downstairs. Garbled sounds like grumbles that quaked the ground. It felt like quakes even if voices can't do that. My stomach churned inside like on a topsy-turvy ride. Lydia turned to me with her index finger at her mouth. Shhh. She held her ear to the carpet.

"They're coming!" she cried in a whisper. Tugging onto me, she raced to her bed and jumped under the covers. I looked at her wide eyed and frozen. "Come on!"

I jumped up as my heart leapt and zoomed to my bed, slipping under the purple butterfly quilt Mom had made me. I shook as I lay there, breath held, my eyes hidden behind tightly squished eyelids.

Footsteps. Stomping. Soon the yelling started up again. I could hear what they were saying now.

"Maggie, I just don't understand why her pants got ripped. How irresponsible are you?" My dad's voice growled on the other side of the door.

"Neil, they are just pants. Let it go." She was crying.

"My mother bought her those pants for her birthday. They aren't just pants."

"Let it go, please." She pleaded with him. I could imagine her now, red faced with tears streaming down as she whimpered for forgiveness.

My heart thumped inside me as the beating echoed inside my ears.

"Do you think they'll get divorced?" I asked in a cringing whisper to Lydia whose bed was parallel to mine. I poked my head out from under the covers.

"Shhh, they might hear you!"

"I don't want them to get divorced!" I cried as the tears spilled down my face.

I heard a sigh and soon my sister was climbing under the covers next to me. I felt her warm body squish against me as she took my hand.

"It'll be okay," she whispered. "I promise."

I blinked away the tears as I heard the snarls of my father when they passed by our room. Then I heard a faint slap. Then "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." from her quivering voice. I huddled closer to my sister as our hands gripped tighter in sweaty palms. I could feel her shivering body.

"It will be okay. I promise," Lydia said in a broken squeaky whisper. "I promise."

I woke up the next morning to a smashed vase in the living room and fresh flowers on the table. Smiling faces on parents, and hugs and kisses. Janey cuddled in her basinet as my parents gushed over all three of us. They would say none of the night before had happened, it was all bad dreams, but I knew the truth. I knew his lies and my mother's fear.

"Do you feel you have any unusual powers?"

I rolled my eyes. It wasn't the first time I had been asked that question since I arrived in the hospital five or six days ago. I tilted my head and crossed my arms as I stared past the psychiatrist's balding head.

"Annalyn, can you answer my question?" he asked.

"It's a stupid question that I answered a few days ago. I also said I don't answer stupid questions." My voice was sharp and detesting.

There was a window behind him and the sky was white-grey with cloud coverage. I couldn't tell if it was raining from where I sat. It rained a lot though. The October rain was setting in. It would likely be another ten months before the sunshine became a regular part of our lives again. I stared out and noticed that the clouds were bright.

"I can tell that you are frustrated by these questions but they are standard questions we ask everyone in order to assess them," he told me.

I didn't want to look directly into his eyes but I could tell they were dark with circles around them and a bit red too. I wondered if he worked a lot. His voice was rather monotone, lacking in any sort of warmth. It was a tired and strained voice. I think he was more frustrated with me than I was with him. I had given him the same resistance the first time I saw him (which was the only time until now).

"I can fly to the moon," I answered in a piercing tone, my eyes narrowing at him. He wrote down something in his notes, chicken scratch in black ink on blue lined paper.

"Have you felt suspicious around people?"

"I don't trust anyone here. How can I? Your damn nurses drug me, drag me into seclusion rooms, turn the lights off and make me sleep on a vinyl mattress with only a crappy heavy blanket that is completely lacking in softness or comfort!" I yelled at him until my breath ran out.

He kept writing. I realized later I was probably giving him a lot of fuel to keep me here.

"I understand that has happened once since you came to the ward. The nurses informed me that you were screaming at them and resisting their attempts to calm you down."

"So that's what happens when you don't obey them? That's how it's going to be?"

"Are you feeling angry, Annalyn?" His voice never changed from the dull tone it started off as.

"You, with all your education, your medical degree, can't figure out that I'm furious just by looking at me?" I stared into his eyes with a hard glare.

"We are trying to help you, Annalyn. It is hard to do that when you maintain a hostile attitude towards us." He glanced at me for only a second before scribbling down some more illegible notes.

"You want to know the truth, Doctor... whatever the hell your name is?!"

"Dr. Sewick—"

"Well, Dr. Sewick, I'd like to tell you that I am absolutely miserable," I said in a rapid voice. "I've never been so miserable in my life and I owe it all to you and your team of depraved nurses!"

"What issues do you have with the nurses? Maybe we can solve your problem with them," he said in a suddenly uplifted voice, full of spark and motivation. I wondered if he was somehow mocking me.

"Sir," I said callously, "they come at me with a cup of pills every morning and night. Sometimes needles too. They jab them in my butt while they hold me down and then drag me off to hell in that dark room. That is one of my problems," I emphasized, "with them. Also, they pretend to be nice but really they want to imprison me in here, just like you. Oh and by the way, I also have a problem with you."

He gave a little sigh before adjusting his glasses which looked like they came off Clark Kent's face. "Everything the nurses do is for your own benefit. When you make more progress in your recovery, you will likely see that. I do hear from them that you are making some progress. They tell me that you have been taking the medications and have not been in seclusion since the first day you got here. You should feel good about that."

"I do it out of fear."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He went back to his notes. "I'm going to keep you on level one right now. I am concerned that you might try to leave the hospital and I'm not sure that you aren't a risk of hurting yourself or anyone else at this point."

"Fine."

"Thank you for talking to me, Annalyn. If you have any concerns, you may bring them to your nurse." I turned away quickly, rushing out the door and heaving a big sigh as I got away from him and the nurse (whom I didn't know but supposedly she would be 'taking care of me' that day). I walked back to my room and moped in bed for the rest of the day.

I had been in contact with my parents several times on the phone since I saw them a few days ago. But they hadn't been by to see me and I was beginning to feel rather suspicious of this. Mom showered me with love each phone call. Lots of "I love you so much, sweetie," and "it will be okay, I promise." My dad's phone calls were business. He would talk about how he had spoken with the lawyer again that day. He never told me what the lawyer actually said though. At the end of each phone call, full of unemotional and stern business talk, he would tell me "I promise." "I promise to get you out of there." "I promise I won't let them hurt you. I'll break their heads off if they do. I'll have their jobs if they do." "I promise..." It was their promises I hated. Life was full of broken promises and it seemed futile to bother with promises anymore. It had been four days since he first promised to get me out of here and I was beginning to wonder if it would ever happen.

My heart ached with dejection at being imprisoned behind these windows. Though there were no bars on the windows, I could not breath the air on the other side, I could not taste the freedom that I feared I would never have again.

My father finally came that afternoon. He walked into my room to find me laying in bed under the covers, my hair greasy and messed up, wearing a thin blue polka dotted hospital gown and stubbly legs.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in a grim voice as he pulled up a maroon plastic chair that had been sitting in the corner.

I sighed. What was I supposed to say? "Dad, I want to go home. Please tell me I am going home today." I kept my voice even and calm, never forgetting that this was my father I was talking to.

He looked down. Sighed heavily. Then looked up at me with deep eyes filled with an empathy I never knew from him.

"I never told your mother this. Certainly never told you girls." His eyes drooped to the ground. "But I've been in your situation before."

My eyes bulged with shock. "What?" I crinkled up my forehead in disbelief.

He spoke slowly and steadily as the shame spilled out of his mouth. "Yes. I have been in a psychiatric ward. I was seventeen and living in Calgary at the time, as you know I grew up there."

"But Dad, I mean, I just... can't believe it. You never said anything. You never even told Mom." I stuttered through words with incredulity seeping out of my eyes.

"I was ashamed. I imagine you must be feeling the same thing. Or you will at some point. It is not something I ever wanted to speak about. After I was discharged, I spent the remaining months of my youth in my parents' house and then moved west. I left behind that life, those people that thought of me as sick. I packed up and left and started a new life. I didn't bother with their treatments or their medications. I didn't bother with the notion that I was an ill person. I moved on and so will you." His eyes glistened with tears he was refusing to let fall. He stared past me at the wall, never once making eye contact, as he spoke.

"Dad. I doubt you want me to ask this," I hesitated as I felt a twinge in my guts, "but what was wrong with you?"

"Nothing." He fiddled with his thumbs in his lap and then got up and stood at the window, looking out.

"I mean why did they think there was something wrong with you? I mean what did they think it was?" My hands trembled a little, the skin around my eyes crinkling as I looked at him.

He shook his head and sighed. He kept staring out of the window. There was silence for a few minutes. I waited for him to speak as my own eyes began to water.

"Annalyn, I've spoken with the lawyer. There is enough evidence to hold you here. They claim you attacked a police officer. Your mother, Lexie," he sighed, shaking his head, and glanced at me for a second and looked back at the window, "They disagree with me on your health. They insist that you are not well. Your mother," I saw him swallow hard as he blinked away the tears. "She will not let me pursue this matter. She has stood up to me on this. She has threatened to leave and take you somewhere for treatment where I cannot interfere."

"Mom did that?" My voice squeaked.

He sighed and nodded. "I have not always been a good husband to her but she and you girls are my life and I cannot risk losing you." He was awkward, refusing to look my way. He continued to stare out the window. I watched him, my eyes wide and my forehead wrinkled. My face only grew more crinkled as I looked into the corner of his eye as it avoided me.

"I understand. You don't need to rescue me, Dad. I mean, I understand that you can't save me." I choked back the tears, fighting them with all my will for he was my father, the stern man, the man you didn't cry to. But I cried. The tears spilled out of my eyes like a river down my cheeks. "Dad, I'm sorry. I never meant to disappoint you and that is all I have been. I've never been what you wanted."

"No!" He turned and look straight into my eyes for the first time that day. "You are mine. My life. My princess. The little girl I had tea parties with." He turned away as a tear fell down his cheek. Sniffled and wiped it away. His voice became calm and rational once more. "I won't let this unfortunate turn of events come between our family."

"I won't either." I let a meager smile creep out on my wet face. I wiped away my tears and took in a deep breath, nodding to myself.

"I have some business to attend to. I must leave," he said hastily.

He looked at me, nodding goodbye, and turned towards the door. One last glance, his face full of fear and heartache. I nodded to him as he left. Then I rushed to the door as he disappeared down the hallway and the nurse let him out the locked door, swiping it with her key card. I went to my window and looked out at the rain as it beat on the glass. Seeing my reflection in the window, seeing my father's eyes in my face, I smiled. He was my father.

It had been a week since I came to the ward and though I spent most of my days lying in bed feeling the weight of my sorrow in my chest. I decided to do something different this morning. It was all because of something fuzzy and warm. She had come up to me, her golden fur shining in the light from the window, and poked her wet slimy nose into my hand. I instantly smiled and stroked the fur around her ears.

"I think she's found a new friend," the woman with her said with a warm smile.

"What's her name?" My voice perked up.

"Lucy. She's a therapy dog. She goes around the hospital and brings smiles to people's faces. I can tell she likes you. You have a way with her. My name is Pat by the way." The woman had sparkling brown eyes with warm brown skin and black hair.

I bent down and reached my arms around Lucy's neck, giving her a big hug. "I always wanted a dog but my older sister was afraid of dogs. How could you be afraid of something as precious as her though?" I said as I eagerly ran my hands through her luscious fur.

"Lucy and I are trying to find some people for art therapy today. Would you like to come?"

I hesitated but then the dog nudged me and my heart thudded happily. "Well, if Lucy wants me to, then I guess I better." I smiled and followed them to a room at the other end of the hallway.

"There's lots of different art supplies here that you can work on for the next hour. Have a look around. You're allowed to come and go as you please while the room is open." I nodded and bent down to Lucy, rubbing her ears.

"Well, what should I do, Lucy?" I looked around the room and noticed an easel. "I think I'll draw a picture."

I set up a piece of white fresh paper on the easel and got a sharpened art pencil. I sketched the head of a dog, each stroke diligently placed the way I remembered her as she first brought that smile to my face. I let my hand ease across the paper with the pencil, shading in parts. I pushed the pencil harder into the paper as I drew in her expressive dark eyes and then her slimy nose. I felt a tickle on my hand as I thought of it against my skin. Her gentle white teeth glimmered on the paper as her tongue stuck out and I shaded it in lightly. Her smile was radiant. After about a half an hour it was almost complete.

"That's nice." A girl came up behind me.

"Thanks," I let a small smile creep on my face.

"I really like dogs," she said. I looked at her, seeing her sad blue and red eyes brighten up. She looked like she wanted to smile but it was as if she couldn't.

"I'm finished it." I took the picture of the easel and handed it to the girl who was about my age but shorter and thinner. She was pale and scraggly but I could tell she was probably very pretty. I smiled at her as her eyes glistened when she looked at the picture.

"Thank you." Her voice was very quiet, very meek.

"You're welcome. I'm gonna go find the real Lucy."

I walked around the brightly lit room with yellow, green, and pink painted walls, patient-made sketches and paintings decorating it. Lucy was gone as my heart dropped inside my chest. Suddenly she came jaunting back into the room with the same radiant smile, panting with her tongue out as she greeted everyone.

"Lucy!" I smiled as I hugged her closely. She started licking my hand with her warm wet tongue. "You're so sweet, you know that." I let go and began scratching her ears. "Such a pretty girl."

"We're scheduled somewhere else now but perhaps she'll see you later in the week."

I patted the dog goodbye and felt my heart flutter as I watched her leave. I waved goodbye longing to have her warm body cuddled up against me in this cold place.

I lay in my bed, my heart sinking in my chest as I breathed heavily, tears sitting at the edge of my eyelids. I had been branded insane for ten days and the idea of being thought of as sick felt as if I was constantly falling off an edge. I would fall but never hit the ground. I wondered when I would hit the ground. Or would I continue falling into a deeper darkness for the rest of my life? What was my life? How much longer would it even last? Tears swept down my face, my heart falling faster, dropping in my chest to oblivion. I closed my eyes and watched as I stood on the edge of a canyon, staring down into the darkness that never seemed to end. Behind me was what life had become, a confusing and frightening fog. I didn't even know what meaning stood there anymore. I looked below me to the emptiness of the canyon. There was no escape. Walking on the edge of a cliff, a fine line between death and the horrors of life, not knowing what to choose, where to go. Walking lost at the edge of chaos, where reason was lost and sanity had fallen below. Darkness, oblivion and I was lost.

Chapter 11

I sat in the lounge watching a girl across from me twiddle her hair in her fingers as she sat there jittery, her feet shaking beneath her. She was curious to me—the way her eyes never left the spot she was staring at, which appeared to be a blank spot on the wall. And how she shivered every time another patient walked by. I had been watching her for about fifteen minutes when my nurse, Jonathan, motioned at me to come see him in the hallway.

I stood in front of him as I waited for him to speak, not saying anything myself. I let my distrust of him show in my eyes as they narrowed at him. He was the same nurse involved in giving me that shot that knocked me out just before they dragged me off to seclusion when I had first come here.

"Annalyn, you have some visitors."

"Oh." I let out the breath I just realized I had been holding in. I nodded and looked down the hall to where my parents and Lydia stood. I walked towards them, glad to see my parents, but feeling a twinge of nerves at seeing Lydia. They all smiled when they saw me and suddenly, Lydia's arms fell loosely around my shoulders in a weak hug.

"It's nice to see you, Annalyn," she said in a sincere and warm voice. I looked at her and a hesitant smile crept up my face.

"Yes, it is," I replied and then turned to my parents.

Mom hugged me tightly and whispered "I love you sweetie" in my ear. She held my head in her warm silky hands for a moment and then kissed my forehead before letting my father have his turn to say hello.

"Annalyn, how are you holding up?" he asked me in a voice that masked all emotions as he put his hand firmly on my shoulder and nodded once to me.

"Okay, I guess." I glanced down the hallway to see Jonathan standing in the nurse's station, looking at us through the window. I glared at him and then turned and smiled at my family. "Let's go to my room."

"Oh, sweetie, I brought you some things. The nurse went through them and said they were okay. It's just some underwear, magazines and books, a few pictures of the family...oh and your bear," mom said as she handed me a canvas bag full of the stuff.

I noticed the furry polar bear stuffy on the top and let my fingers graze over his creamy fur with a nostalgic smile. He was getting rough looking with age; his fur was lumped together in little mattes and his colour was becoming more of a yellow cream than white. My mom got him for me when she went on an Alaskan cruise with my dad several years earlier. 'Bear' had found a permanent place on my bed at home.

"Thanks mom."

"Are you getting along here okay?" she asked, taking my hand and caressing it with her own hands.

I gave her a grim-looking smile and shrugged. I sat down on my bed and Lydia came and sat next to me as she looked around the room. She was sitting so close that I could feel her thighs next to mine. Suddenly, her arm was loosely placed over my shoulders.

"I think this place will look better with the pictures we brought. Maybe the nurse can give you some tape and you can put them up," Lydia said.

"Sure," I nodded as my skin felt like it was crawling beneath her touch. I wanted to smile, but a part of me was hesitant... scared even.

"Well, maybe you'd like to spend some time with your sister. How about your dad and I go to the cafeteria and get you something good to eat. They have a Tim Horton's. I could get you a donut and an iced cappuccino," mom suggested.

My stomach fluttered at the idea of them leaving. "Sure."

"Okay, we'll see you in a bit," she said, and her eyes glistened a little in the light as she turned and left.

I watched as they slipped out the door. I felt my heart beat a little faster.

"So..." Lydia started. "What's this place like anyways?"

"It sucks."

"I bet. Food probably sucks too, eh?"

"Yeah, it does. But I don't feel like eating much anyways."

She looked me up and down. "Yeah, you look a bit thinner. Maybe mom and dad can bring you some food every day. Good stuff. I could bring by some stuff a few days a week. How about that?"

"I guess, but I'm really not that hungry."

"You'll be hungry when you see real food again. It's the hospital crap that's taking away your appetite." I nodded, feeling a bit defeated. "So, what do you do here?"

"Sometimes I go to the art room and draw or paint... well, I did that once." I took in a breath and sat down on my bed. "There's a lounge and I can listen to the radio there...things suck slightly less when the music is playing." I sighed. "Most of the time I just lie in bed though. Never really feels like there's a reason to get up."

Lydia looked down for a moment, as she stood in front of me. I could see a rush of sadness come over her face. Her eyes drooped and then her mouth frowned slightly. She let out a little breath. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Did they say anything about when I'll be getting out?" I said with a hunger for information. "No one ever gives me a straight answer around here."

"Sorry, Annalyn. They really don't know. Said you're doing better though."

"It's been two weeks since I came to the hospital. I mean it's getting ridiculous. Let me go already!" I found myself yelling as my arms flailed outward. She sighed and gave me a sympathetic look. I took a deep breath and let it out. "How's it going on the outside?" She hesitated as her eyes drooped again.

"That bad?" I said, cringing.

"Well, I don't know. Things just aren't good. Everyone is fighting about what's best for you. Dad still doesn't want you here. Mom does. That's not to say she doesn't love you, Annalyn. She just wants you to get better."

"I know. I don't need to be here though." She looked away and let out a breath. "What about Janey?" I asked.

"She's a mess." Lydia's eyes glistened a little. "She's so angry and upset all the time. She hardly talks to anyone unless she's screaming at them. She's become so touchy. I mean she's just turning thirteen and it's so much for her to handle. Janey always looked up to you. Everyone knows how much she loves you. I think she just doesn't know how to process all this."

My chest caved in as my heart fell inside it and dropped to the ground. Smash and splatter. I felt an intense ache inside. "I want to tell her I'm sorry but mom says she doesn't want to talk to me." I sniffled as my eyes watered.

"I know. But hey, she'll come around. She just needs time to adjust, right?"

I heaved a breath as the lump in my throat grew. "Does mom cry a lot?"

"I haven't caught her crying actually. But sometimes I find her just sitting there staring off into space with her face looking grim. It's kind of unnerving actually."

"Oh." I said. "Dad said she stood up to him, even threatened to leave."

"Yeah." She nodded. "They had a huge fight that night after they first came to visit you. I was there too but I mostly stayed out of it. It was frightening though. I had never seen her stand up to him in my life. I was so afraid he'd snap. His eyes were so passionate. I don't think he was angry so much as he was afraid for you. I don't know why, but he seems terrified of you being in here. But mom is the opposite. She says you need to be here. I guess..." she hesitated, "I guess after what you did to your wrist, well, it really scared her. Scared everyone. We all have different opinions on what to do, I guess. But mom is standing her ground on this one. It's just scary when they fight. There's so much more at stake this time." A single tear slid down her face and she quickly wiped it away and let out a sigh. She sat down on the bed next to me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want this to happen."

I swallowed past the lump in my throat as a few tears fell to my lap. I watched them form a dotted pattern on the beige hospital pants. Lydia looked at me, not smiling or frowning but just looking sincere. She took my hand in her own and squeezed gently.

"Do you remember that train?" I asked her, looking into her eyes as they grew shocked. We had never spoken of that moment since it happened.

"How can I forget?" she said in a quiet whisper as she looked down to the ground.

"She was so afraid of him. It's weird to think that she is actually standing up to him. Twelve years later. Never have I seen her stand up to him in that time. Sometimes," I choked a little on the sorrow building inside my throat. "Sometimes I would think maybe she cared more about what he thought than about us." Lydia glanced at me and I could tell she thought the same thing. "But all this" my voice turned to a whisper. "I don't know. It makes me think, I guess."

"Yeah," she said in a breathy whisper as the tears floated down her face. Our hands squeezed together, palms squished into one another.

After a few minutes, Lydia stood up, still holding onto my hand for a moment before dropping it, and then went to the dresser where the bag of stuff mom brought for me sat waiting for me to discover it. She dug through the bag, putting aside Bear and the magazines, scattering a mess over the top of the dresser until she finally got to what she was looking for.

"Found 'em." She smiled holding up an envelope of pictures. Lydia tossed them over to me. "Need some tape. Mind if I ask the nurses for some."

I nodded as I opened the envelope with a feeling of mystery and nostalgia. I felt the presence of my sister disappear from the room as I lost myself in that envelope. I took out the 4x6 pictures, my heart fluttering.

A family picture. It was from last year when we went to a photographer and all five of us sat down in front of the sky blue and cloud background and put on our posing smiles. I stood behind Janey who was seated on a tall stool. My arms were draped around her. Lydia was on the other side of me and our parents stood behind us, their hands resting on our shoulders. It was a deceivingly happy family portrait but I remembered that day. The nitpicking over hair and clothes. Nothing any of us girls wore was good enough for either of our parents. They wanted bright colours, happy floral dresses with sweet innocent faces to go with them. Mom wanted our hair in matching French braids but we all fought that one and our hair ended up down naturally. In the end, the three of us stood there in muted colours having won the battle. Dad's face was grimaced and Mom's frowning right up until the photography yelled "smile!" There's an 8x10 of this hanging in the dining room.

The next picture I got to was of Lexie and me right before our grad dance. We both wore heavy makeup and our hair was both sculpted fancifully in curls. I wore a dainty tiara on top the curls that hung down the side of my face and dangled into the slight cleavage of my strapless plum-coloured satin dress. Lexie's violet dress sparkled with beading over the bodice. We were arm in arm in the picture, the sides of our heads leaning against each other as we smiled genuinely. Our dates were lame though and hated dancing and all the frills of the night. We ended up ditching them and eventually went to the dry after-grad where there were games and prizes, people having fun and no stupid drunkenness. I got back to Lexie's house at 3am and crashed on her couch till 2pm the next day, my face smudged with mascara and my hair a tangled mess. A smile graced my face as I thought of it.

I flipped to the next picture and saw myself standing proud in the blue graduation gown and red sash. My heart sank. I grazed my finger over my smiling face and felt the promise of that girl and her future, felt it and knew it was crushed. I quickly turned to the next picture as Lydia walked back into the room with a roll of tape.

"We gotta make sure we give it back to them when we finish," she said. "I think we should scatter them across this wall opposite your bed. Then you can stare at them when you can't find a reason to get up. Better than staring at a wall, I'd say."

She grabbed the pile of pictures from my hand and started to tape them up randomly on the wall. I watched her from the bed, my eyes heavy as I looked at the memories being splashed across the plain white. As she stepped back and her shadow moved away, the light from the window made their glossy finish shine and I could no longer see the memories. I lightened my face and sighed a relief.

"Looks much better, eh?" Lydia said, leaning against the wall. I nodded grievously.

"Oh, I like that!" Mom said as she walked into the room carrying a brown paper bag with the Tim Horton's logo on it. She placed it next to me on the bed and handed me the an icy cold drink with a straw. I took a sip of the Iced Capp and let the cool milky brown sweetness melt on my tongue.

"Thanks Mom." I said.

"Dad, looks great eh?" Lydia said as she pointed to the wall. He nodded preoccupied. I looked at him wondering what he was thinking about.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but we've got to cut this visit short. Your Dad's got some work to do."

"But its Saturday, Mom," I said as the pit of my stomach stewed.

"One day you'll learn that the work never stops, Annalyn," he said.

"If I get that far—"

"Don't talk like that!" Mom snapped loudly, her eyes shocked. I saw the rest of their faces droop.

"Sorry. Just not sure what the future holds for me anymore."

"It holds hope. It holds a life that you have yet to experience. This is just some bump in the road and everyone has a bump here and there," Mom said with edginess in her voice. A tear crawled into the corner of her eye. She took my hand and caressed it with sincerity in her smile.

I let my gaze move from her genuine eyes to my father's crinkled gloomy face. I didn't know if the words mom spoke were true. But he had a life. He worked and lived, had a house and a family. But at what cost to the rest of us? His misery never ended and only seeped into the rest of our hearts as we struggled to live past his moodiness. I wondered if he was the cause of my own unhappiness. Was his misery my entrapment? Was I forever doomed to follow in the footsteps of his moodiness, his temper and anguish? Would I be him? Or was I already him?

No! I screamed inside my head. My heart felt like it was crumbling inside of me and each touch from my mom in that moment, each caress of my hand and face with her silken wrinkled hands, tortured me as I wondered what evil had become me. I didn't want to face it before. Deny, deny, deny! But here they were to love me, yet their faces were wretched with fear and hurt because of me.

"You should go. You're busy and all. I'll see you later," I said in a hasty voice. I walked them out into the hallway as mom leaned in for a hug and kiss. I pushed her away gently and whispered a lie into her ear "They are watching, I'd feel better if we didn't."

"Oh," she said quietly as her hurt and shocked eyes wrote a story of fear for me.

I realized I probably was making myself sound delusional with paranoia. The nurses and doctors already thought that and I was sure I was only playing into that now. But her touch, that love and emotion, was like knives into me in that moment and I had to get as far away from these people as I could. I waved goodbye to them and rushed back to my room, not even watching as the nurse let them out.

Later that night, when the sun had disappeared in the sky and the moon was absent, the pictures on my wall could clearly be seen from my bed. I had the light on as I lay there. As much as I didn't want the pictures, the memories, to stare out at me, I also didn't want to lay there in the dark. It was only 9pm, too early for bed, though the nurses had already gone around with the night time medications. I had taken my cocktail of pills cooperatively and now I lay there waiting, but for what, I wasn't sure.

Janey was staring out at me from the third picture from the top right and the bottom two pictures on the left— three pictures of her smiling and full of life. One was recent. It was a picture of her and me in my new apartment when I had just moved in. She had a sincere longing for me in that picture, the knowledge that I was gone from home, and had hugged me tightly as if we would be separated forever. Nonetheless, she smiled with genuine love. We smiled. The other two were younger pictures of her. Playful smiles of a growing child, a princess tea party in one and the two of us on swings in the next. There was always a smile on both our faces.

Seeing Janey's smile felt like it was invading my body, my heart, with an ache. I longed for the days of summer at the cabin. The days of swinging so high we thought we'd soar across the sky. The days of tea parties with the little girl that looked up to you and always thought she was drinking real tea. I felt the clench in my chest as I looked at her smile and closed my eyes, seeing it again in my mind.

I had failed my sister. There was no other truth than that. Whatever happened that brought me to this circumstance caused me to betray her, somehow, in some way. Though I never meant her any harm, it was there. Though I couldn't see her and she refused to speak to me anymore, I felt her pain from a distance, knew it was there. It echoed the pain in my own heart and I knew that somehow there was a connection between us that would never be broken no matter how much she claimed to hate me. We knew each other inside and out. We shared so much together. I could swear we had some sort of psychic link to each other, feeling the same things, thinking what each other thought, knowing how each other was. But I had betrayed her. Failed her. Left her behind somehow even if it meant I was diving into my own insanity alone and leaving her in normalcy. She wouldn't forgive me for it. I needed her forgiveness. I needed to move beyond these walls and make amends, find my sanity again though I wondered if it had actually been lost or it was all lies.

Whatever was the situation, I knew there was only one way out of that place. To be well, at least in appearance. To cooperate. To be sane and good and peachy and all the things they wanted you to be. And so that was my plan. As I lay there, I knew, that was what needed to be done.

"Annalyn, how would you rate your mood on a scale of one to ten?" Dr. Sewick asked in his steady voice, eyes on his notes.

"Seven," I said in a pleasant voice.

"Is that a good mood, a normal mood, would you say?"

"It's normal."

"I have to say, I think you've made a lot of progress in the last three weeks, especially this last week." He looked at me, taking his glasses off, and had a pleased look in his eyes, though the rest of his face read neutral.

"I have been trying. I see now that I was ill with this thing you called Bipolar Disorder. Manic Depression as they used to call it. My mom has brought me some books on it and I have done my research. I understand now how things are," I explained.

"And how are things, in your opinion?"

"I am on a steady process to recovery. I know that I need to take my medication everyday without fail. I should keep that mood diary the nurse taught me about. I must watch for signs of depression or mania, which I have learned about. The books recommended keeping a regular sleep pattern, and avoiding things that might trigger an episode. See, I am quite aware of the situation." My voice was calm and matter of fact despite the bullshit that spilled out of it.

"That is good. It does seem like you have gained a fair bit of insight on your condition. Last time we spoke, we discussed the possibility of discharge. You felt you were ready to go back home and I thought it was a goal we could work towards."

"I feel ready, Sir. I really do. I want to get my life back together." The life you stole from me, the life you ruined. "I think I have been doing well the last week. I have not felt depressed or suicidal. Nor have I felt suspicious towards you or the nurses. I see now that I was being paranoid before, delusional even.

But that has passed. The medication has worked well and I will continue to take it." I wasn't sure about the medication. I wasn't sure about anything. I was only sure about the lies that had to be told, the facade that had to be put on.

He jotted down some notes. "What are your plans after discharge? What will your living arrangements be? How will you support yourself financially?"

"I will live at home with my parents. My father has a good income and has promised to support me until I get back on my feet. In January, I plan to re-enroll in university and continue my studies. I plan to live at home with my parents this time around so I do not become so overwhelmed," I explained in a rational voice.

"Your parents have met with me today to discuss the possibility of discharge. I think having your family's support is essential. I wanted to ensure that the situation I am discharging you to will be a positive one where you can continue to make progress in. I don't want you to think this is all over. You have to keep working hard to recover. Keep taking your medication and taking care of your mental well-being. Bipolar Disorder can resurface and you need to be on top of things to prevent relapse."

"I understand completely." I nodded to him.

"I have referred you to a community mental health agency and a psychiatrist there will follow up with you after discharge. I will have your nurse give you the information, along with a prescription when you leave. Good luck to you, Annalyn."

He held out his hand and I shook it firmly with a nod. I gave him a wide smile, both of deception and happiness.

"Thank you, doctor."

The minute I walked out of that room, I had the urge to jump up and holler out my success. I restrained myself however as I didn't want them to think I was becoming manic. The nurse walked me back to my room.

"I will get your discharge paperwork done, Annalyn. You should be able to leave soon. You might want to call your parents and make arrangements for them to pick you up," the nurse, who I didn't know well, said with a smile as she patted me on the shoulder. "I'll unlock your cupboard so you can gather your belongings."

"Yes. Of course."

As soon as she left the room, I let my devious smile break out and whispered a loud and excited "Yes!" I had done it. I had succeeded in getting myself discharged from this hell. When I called my mom a few minutes later, she cried with excitement. She said she was proud of my progress. They were on their way to pick me up. I finally felt hope in my heart again. There were no tears. No need for tears. Soon I would taste the air of freedom in my mouth, feel it seep into my lungs.

I stepped onto the threshold of our house, bags in my dad's hands, as mom unlocked the door. My heart jumped as I stepped inside and slipped my shoes off. I walked into the living room and felt the warmth of carpet on my feet once again. I walked over to the fireplace and slid my finger across the mantle. Pictures of me and my family adorned the top of it. There was a brass clock that I remembered well from my childhood. It always stood on top of our fireplace, keeping time of our lives. I smiled and bent down to turn the gas fireplace on. The flames grew to a warm orange as they flickered in my eyes.

"I'm glad to be home." I turned to my parents and smiled.

"We're happy too, sweetie," mom said, her eyes glinting with sincere gaiety.

"We should go out for dinner tonight. A celebration. Maybe pizza and the arcade?" Dad said with a hinting smile.

"Sure." I let the feeling of peace and calm, the warmth of family and the fireplace of home seep into my bones.

"I'll call Lydia and ask her if she wants to come. Why don't you go up and say hi to Janey?" Mom said.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm not sure she wants to see me, Mom."

"Don't be silly. Of course she does. Whatever has happened is in the past. Time to move on." Dad's words were stern but proud.

I nodded and walked up the stairs, each step ascending into the depth of pain I knew my sister and I were feeling. I was supremely happy to be home but I wasn't sure if the damage could ever be repaired. I took each step knowing what had happened might never be undone. As I came to her room, I saw her sitting at her computer on instant messenger. I watched her for a minute as my heart ached for her. Suddenly she turned around and I saw the fear in her eyes. The pain, the sorrow. Betrayal. A story was written on her face of the hurt I had caused her.

"I'm home." I said at a loss for words.

"Oh." Her quiet voice had shaken my ears as if it were thunder. She turned back to the computer screen.

"Can I come in?" I asked her hesitantly in an innocent voice.

"No." She didn't turn around.

"But—"

"Things aren't the same, Annalyn. You can't come home and walk in here like nothing has changed." Her voice was harsh and condescending as her eyes turned to me and pierced into my heart.

"I know things have changed, but why can't we go back to the way we were?"

"Because I don't know how. Because I can't trust you. Because you aren't the same person anymore!" She screamed at me as she came up to me and pushed me out of her room, slamming the door in my face. The fiery anger in her eyes frightened me. I wasn't afraid of her, though, but for her, for us.

I knocked on the door loudly. "Janey! You can't just shut me out of your life!"

She opened the door and gave me a harsh glare. "You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do. You gave up that right when you tried to kill yourself, when you tried to abandon me, us, everything, and just gave up. I can never forgive your betrayal. Never!" She screamed.

"Stop!" I said, grabbing her arm as she turned to leave.

"Don't touch me!"

"No. Stop this. Just let go. I'm sorry. You don't know how sorry I am. Let me be sorry. Let me have a chance for forgiveness. How can you just give up on us? We are sisters. Nothing can change that."

"You changed that when you let the blood run out from your wrist. You are the one who changed that. Don't tell me not to give up on us. There is no more us. You are the one that ruined us. There's nothing to give up on. 'We' don't exist anymore."

Her words jabbed into me like a knife. I cried, "Please."

"Just leave me the hell alone! Can't people just figure out that I don't want them around me? I hate you people! I hate life and it's your entire fault. You know, we weren't that unhappy until you moved out."

"Yes, we were! We were all unhappy and you were just too damn naive to see it. You were a little kid and now that you are starting to grow up, you are finally seeing what I've known and felt all these years. Only I never blamed it on you. You know, I was pretty happy as a little girl. Maybe our parent's couldn't handle a third child. How do you know it wasn't you who changed everything?" Her mouth dropped open as she shoved me away from her door and slammed it shut.

"Annalyn Johanssen, I hate your guts! Never speak to me again!" I heard her scream in a shrill voice through the door. I sighed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it was your fault. But that's how I feel when you blame me for everything that is wrong. It isn't my fault. We both know whose fault it is. You are just afraid to say it."

The door creaked open a slit and her raging eye looked through. In a whisper, she said "don't blame this on Dad. He may be a jerk at times, but he never forced you to slit your wrist with our mother's sewing blade. You did that all by your freaking stupid self. I hope you go to hell when you die because that's what you deserve."

I swallowed hard beyond the lump in my throat. Tried to speak and choked on my words. Finally I spoke, gently pushing the door open as she tried to force it shut. "I did something stupid. I admit that and I will be sorry about it for the rest of my life," I cried, "but that doesn't mean I don't deserve forgiveness. That doesn't mean I deserve to lose the person I love most."

"I didn't deserve to lose the person I loved most, the person I looked up to, wanted to be. I didn't deserve that and yet you almost took that away from me. In fact, you did take that away from me because now I can never look at you the same way again. You are not the sister I love. You are just a vessel of my sister, her body, alive but soul-less. You are the evil zombie of a girl I used to love." Tears were streaming down her red face as she spoke. Her voice wasn't loud but raspy, slowly letting the pain in her words cut me open.

"Please. You are my little sister and I love you," I whimpered in a low breathy voice.

"No. Now please, just leave me alone," she whimpered as she clicked the door shut.

I let out a long slow breath as I lay my forehead against her door. Tears slid down my face and down to my breasts, making dots all over my sky blue shirt. I sobbed more, choking down the spit in my mouth as I tried to swallow past the large lump in my throat. My heart beat wild and fast and ached with each thud. I felt my lungs suffocating as they struggled for oxygen. It was as if the air around me was devoid of it. Each breath struggled into my lungs like a knife. Pain in my guts, my face, my head, my heart.

Chapter 12

The first taste of greasy pepperoni pizza in several weeks was like heaven as the slightly congealed cheese felt intensely flavorful in my mouth. I had four pieces before I was satisfied enough to stop. My stomach felt like it was sticking out as the buildup of food stretched it tightly. I took a large sip of my coke through the red striped straw as the bubbles danced on my tongue. I let out a tiny burp as the cheesy taste invaded my mouth again.

"You are so rude," Lydia laughed at me as she turned to me and slanted her head. She was sitting next to me in the red vinyl booth at the arcade.

"I have not had real food in so long!" I exclaimed as I rubbed my hand on my stomach. "Oh man, I am so full and I don't even care."

"Just don't eat anymore. No one wants to see you barf it all up." She giggled as she poked me in the arm.

"This food is staying put! After all that crappy hospital food I need this good fattening stuff. It's important to my well-being." I smiled as I pushed her lightly to move so I could get out of the booth.

"Gonna play games on a full stomach? That's risky."

"Come and play with me. Unless you are afraid a bloated full girl that just got out of the hospital might beat you."

"Hah, I do not play arcade games. This greasy table alone is below me. But for you, I am willing to sit in this disgusting hole." She got out of the booth and gave me a sarcastic grin.

"Whatever. I gotta beat Dad anyways." I walked enthusiastically with a bounce in my step over to my dad who was standing on an army simulation with a fake machine gun in hand. His eyes were intense as he moved his shoulders side to side and scoffed at the virtual enemy with each shot.

"Let's play something together, Dad."

"Sure thing. I bet we can be the best duo on the dance game."

His eyes were perked as he looked past me at the empty Dance Dance Revolution game. It was the game that he and Janey always played together. The minute they stepped onto the mini-dance floor with its flashing colourful lights, they turned into these jovial amateur dancing queens.

"Dad, I don't think I'm a good enough dance partner for you," I said as I looked at the game with an unnerving twitch in my stomach. Big shoes to fill, shoes I didn't want to fill as my little sister sat at home sulking in her hatred of me. Dad tried to make her come.

"What do you mean you aren't coming?" I could hear his deep growl from downstairs as he stood at Janey's shut door earlier that evening.

There was a muffled cry through her door that I couldn't make out. Then I heard the door swing open with force, the door knob slamming against the adjacent wall and footsteps heavy on the creaking floor of the older house.

"Get up!" he roared.

"I'm not coming!" Janey screamed and I knew the tears were streaming down her hot red face.

"Get up, get dressed and get in the damn car now."

"You can't make me come." I could picture her arms crossed now as her eyebrows furrowed deep above her piecing glare.

"Don't test me."

"She's a stupid bitch who doesn't belong in this family after all she's done. Ship her off to the mental hospital."

"I don't want to hear you talking like that about your sister. She's had a hard time. Now get off your whiny butt and get in the damn car!" his voice echoed in my ear like sharp prongs in my ear drum.

"Go to hell! I hate that bitch. All of you can just go to hell!" Her voice ripped through the air as shrill as metal forks scratching on a porcelain plate.

Growls and stomps like thunder and I could hear her yelp. My heart raced and I ran up the stairs to see his hand gripped tightly around her bicep. His angry eyes stared into her venomous glare. Tears were dripping on hot red cheeks. Stalemate. I felt the intensity growing as no one moved. I couldn't breathe, I feared making a sound. Slowly, I inched my way back towards the stairs until I stepped on the creaky spot and the floor boards cried. They both looked up at me, startled, their eyes like hawks as they glance at each other angrily and broke off the attack.

"Fine. Stay!" Dad snapped as he let go of her arm and stomped past me and down the stairs. I heard the front door slam shut and then an engine roared.

My eyes were still looking towards the stairs when I heard Janey's door slam shut behind me. I didn't need to turn around and look at her door closed to me. I let out a choked sigh as the warmth of tears felt like they were flushing out my eyes. I walked downstairs and got in the car.

"You're a good enough dance partner for me any day," Dad said at the arcade with a clownish smile, his graying blonde hair out of place after all the lively video game simulations.

"If you say so," I replied sheepishly.

Soon we were dancing on those brightly lit colourful squares as pop music blared through my ears and my heart beat in tune to the fast paced rhythm. I jumped to the right, to the left, my feet managing not to tangle in themselves, as my dad moved in synchrony next to me. Our arms were sailing in the air as we "got jiggy with it" (as my dad liked to say). I smiled wildly, my cheeks stretched as far possible, when I noticed him looking at me with his crazed sweaty smile. His eyes were lit up with the colours of the dance game.

"We rock!" He panted as he continued to move. Forward. Left. Right. Forward. Back. Left. Right. Arms sailing beside him as his smile lit up his glowing face.

"Yeah!" I said breathlessly, my eyes feeling radiant.

That night we beat the high score he had with Janey after all their years of dancing together. I was having a great time until he looked at me and said "You're even better than Janey at this!" My heart sunk into my stomach and my stomach sunk into the rest of my guts. I smiled at him as the shame ate at my insides and I thought of my little sister sitting at home alone after disowning me from her life. She inadvertently disowned my dad too. I had become his favourite once again and she the black sheep. My heart continued to sink as I drowned in my own guilt.

"Ha! We beat your high score," Dad scoffed as he ran into Janey's room after we got home. "Me and Annalyn. We were on fire tonight and you missed it. You should have been there." His teasing tone set fire on her face as I stood there watching meekly from the hallway.

"That was our game. How dare you play it with her." Her voice whined as the corners of her lips drooped like drippy syrup. I could feel my heart thumb an extra loud beat with each word she spoke.

"Well, you should have been there. We had a great time." His voice mocked her with a jovial trivialism. He laughed out a wicked taunting chuckle.

"What? Now she's better than me. How come the insane girl is now the golden child? She should be dropped off on the side of the street like an unwanted deformed puppy," Janey said sharply.

"You are just jealous. I don't have time for that kind of crap. Brighten up and come down stairs for some Balderdash or sulk here by yourself like a little baby. I don't care anymore brat." Dad turned around and stalked out of her room as he put his arm around my shoulder and led me down to the living room.

"Don't listen to her. She's getting into that teenage brattiness," he said. "All of you had bad attitudes at that age and you and Lydia grew out of it."

"I don't know Dad. I kind of feel bad for making her feel like this," I said with a whisper of tears.

"Hey, don't worry. She'll get over it. Like I said, it's all teenage brattiness."

"Ready for some Balderdash!" Mom said cheerfully as she saw us emerge into the living room.

I sat down between her and Lydia on the creamy white sofa. Dad took a seat in the recliner to the right of us. The game was laid out on the coffee table ready to go.

"Okay, first word is gasteromycetes," Lydia said in broken syllables as she read from a card.

The object of the game was to make up a definition for a big fancy word most people would never have heard of. One person gets the card with the actual definition and writes that down. Then all of them go into a pile and get read out and we all have to guess which one is the right definition. It's a game our family has been playing for years. I wrote down my fictional definition for the word after thinking it over for a few minutes. I decided the most convincing... and creative... definition would be 'scientific name for the extra set of entrails in a Mexican buffalo fish.'

"Ready?" Lydia asked. We all nodded and she collected our papers and started reading them aloud. "Okay, first definition: the name of a wildebeest-like animal commonly referred to as an Australian goat sucker that stalks goats and sucks the blood out of them."

I giggled and ended up snorting out my water. My nose stung as I watched the droplets fall from nostrils to my pink pajama pants. "A goat-vampire. Sure, those exist." My eyes rolled heavily as the sarcasm oozed from my cocky tone.

"Hey, it's possible," my dad said as his eyes shifted to the left and my suspicions were satisfied as to whose definition that was.

"Next," Lydia started, "A type of plankton that lives in the ocean off the coast of New Zealand."

Hmmm... that sounded scientifically sound.

"Fungi which have their spores borne inside of a fruiting body, such as in puffballs," Lydia read. "And finally, the scientific name for the extra set of entrails in a Mexican buffalo fish"

I thought carefully as I wondered what the real definition of gasteromycetes was.

"We already got that word a few games ago. It's 'Fungi which have spores borne inside of a fruity body,'" Janey said as she appeared at the open set of French doors that lead into the living room.

"Oh, sweetie, come and play with us. It's been awhile since we all played together," my mom said as she went and hugged one arm around her shoulders and lead her towards the leather navy blue chair on the left side of the couch.

"Yeah, sure," she said timidly as her meek eyes drooped to the floor and avoided eye contact with any of us. She took a seat in the chair and wrung her hands as Lydia gave her a hard time for ruining this round.

"Okay, let's start another round," Mom said with a sunny smile. We played for another hour as I forgot the trouble I had caused my family and just had a good time with them. Janey and I never looked at each other during the night and I think that was a good thing because none of us could bare another confrontation. At 11pm we all headed off to our rooms. I sat in my bed and read Jane Austin until I fell asleep from the drowsy pills I had to take each night for supposedly being crazy.

The doorbell rang, waking me from a deep foggy sleep. I looked at my alarm clock. It was six past noon. I curled up in the covers, hugging the comforter to my chest, as I yawned. The sun was seeping through the narrow opening in the curtains and leaving a line of sunlight in my shadowed room. I closed my eyes and remembered the dream I had earlier that morning. I was running away from the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carol. I ran through an open field of grass as he chased me and soon I ended up at a stone table like old ruins. I stumbled onto the stone table flat on my back as the cat pounced on me. Suddenly he disappeared partially so that only his black stripes showed. Then he pawed at my face, sheering my tender skin apart, while he told me the Red Queen was coming to chop off my head. I giggled a little under the covers as I remembered how terrified I was of the Cheshire cat as a small child. I worried he would be hiding somewhere. Thick black stripes made me nervous until I was a little older.

There was a knock at my door, startling me out of my reminiscing. "Come in."

"Hey," Lexie said with a smile and nervous eyes as she came through the door and shut it behind her. "Sorry to wake you. I figured you'd be up by now."

I shrugged. "The drugs they give me really knock me out at night." "Oh." Her face went dim and she looked down as she took a seat at the end of my bed. "So, I hear you're doing better than before." "Um, yeah. I don't think I was ever not okay, but okay, I guess better is true now that I'm home again. I can't wait to go back to the apartment, to school, to work. It's been so ridiculously stupid the last few weeks."

"That's something I wanted to talk to you about." She fiddled with her thumbs.

"What?"

"I..." she hesitated as her thumbs fiddled faster, "I just think maybe it isn't a good idea to go back to the apartment right now."

"Why not!" I yelled.

She stared at the beige carpet below her socked feet as she flexed them. "Well, a lot has happened. I mean we can't just forget everything that has happened and go back to the way things were."

"Yes, we can. And we will," I said.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship over this. You have to understand that I care about you. It's just that so much has happened and I don't think I can take care of you if you get sick again. And I have to worry about rent. You might not be able to pay your share and I need to get a roommate who can, someone I can count on financially." Her voice quivered a little as she spoke, her eyes darting between the floor and me.

"That's crap. I can pay rent. I don't know why you think I can't. I'm dependable. I'm the same person I have always been." I shook my head as my throat felt a lump growing. "How dare you come in here and act like I'm some incapable mentally ill person. There's nothing wrong with me. You are supposed to be my best—" I choked on my words.

"My best friend. How can you treat me like this?"

"I'm still your best friend. I am trying to look out for both our interests here. You have to understand. Please." I could see her eyes welling up as she looked at me pleadingly.

"Best friends don't kick each other out. Don't tell each other they are insane. Don't act like... like things are different when they aren't!" I darted off the bed and went to the door. I stopped just as I was about to throw her out of my room. My throat swelled as the tears emerged from my stinging eyes.

"I can't even begin to describe how I feel at this moment. First my sister disowns me and now you come here and basically give up on our friendship because they label me as a sick person, as mentally defective. Can't you just trust me, trust who I have always been? How can you even begin to believe what they say about me when you know me?" I looked at her with my furrowed brows and stone cold eyes. "You know me."

She shook her head as she stared at the floor. I saw her chest moving with each puffing breath she took in. After a moment, she started shaking her head harder and looked at me with tear-filled eyes. "You say I know you. But the person you've been in the last month is not the person I know and love." Her voice was steady as she breathed deeply and kept shaking her head rhythmically. "You say that you haven't changed but all I see is a changed person. If you can't look into yourself and see that, how can I trust that you are well? If you have no concept of how sick you've become, how can I begin to think you can take care of yourself?" Her eyes sparkled tearfully as she stared at me, her face crinkled up around her eyes and mouth. I stopped for a moment and speechlessness pervaded me. I stared into her with hard eyes that felt like they were bulging out of me. The lump in my throat was so large I couldn't speak, or at least I felt I couldn't speak anymore. I wasn't even sure my brain knew how to speak in that moment. I was so frozen that no inch of me moved. Slowly my head started to move from side to side. Slowly, rhythmically. My breathing increased. Panic was soon seething inside of me as I felt the neural impulses in my body darting around. My hands trembled. I brought one up to my chest and felt the beating striking loudly against my ribs. Suddenly I couldn't breathe. My throat felt like it was swelling up with the giant crying lump. My heart ached as the walls of my chest grew tight.

"Oh, I just..." I tried to speak as the screeching voice reached out from my lungs. "I can't do this. I can't I can't I just can't take this. Why do people hate me? Why are people abandoning me? Why? What the hell? What the—?" I rambled out each word until I was gasping for air and trying hard to breath. "My sister hates me. You hate me. Oh my God. What is going on with... my life?" My face felt hot as I put my wrist up to it and gently pressed it against my cheek. I felt something odd and I looked at my wrist to see the scar across it, still red but healing well. My eyes grew painfully wide.

"Annalyn?" Lexie said gently and I saw that she was in front of me now, lightly touching my trembling hand that lay dangling at my side. "I tried to kill myself you know. Of course you know. Everyone knows," I rambled. "I tried to slice my wrist with my mommy's sewing knife. There was blood and then I was... I don't know. Happy sort of. Things were better. It's like I realized something after that. It shook me awake and I knew I had to enjoy life. And then I was just so happy that nothing mattered but having fun. I thought I was so important to the world because I had been touched by God, by Mother Nature. It all sounds so ridiculous now, you know. I wanted to forget. And I still don't really understand exactly what I was thinking or doing." I looked at my wrist as my hand shook and then I looked at her with wide tearful eyes. "Am I really mentally ill? Am I a monster?" I fell to the ground as my legs suddenly gave out beneath me. I hugged my knees and rocked back and forth as the butterflies flew in loopy-loops in my stomach. "Am I a sick person? I am aren't I? I'm... defective. Sick." My head shook so fast and I crumbled inside. "How did I get like this?" My heard fluttered hard and painful. "Answer me!" I screamed as I grabbed onto Lexie and shook her, my eyes tearing into hers.

"Stop. Please. You're not well but you aren't a monster. Just don't do anything to hurt yourself. I couldn't live without you. I couldn't live knowing you killed yourself. Please." Her voice was shuddering as she spoke, tears streaming down her red face, eyes fearful and crinkled. "I don't know what to do anymore. How can I live with myself knowing I am a sick person?" I hugged my knees tighter as she sat in front of me holding onto my hands tightly.

"You aren't a bad person. You have to believe me. Please don't hurt yourself."

"I'm sorry about everything. I shouldn't move back into the apartment. I can't be trusted."

"Give it time. You just need to heal. I love you though. Don't ever think that we aren't best friends because of this. Soon it will be in the past. We'll be heading on with our lives; we'll be career women going places. This is just a blip in the road for you. We'll get through it." I watched her eyes dart back and forth slightly as she stared into my eyes. I could tell she loved me but this whole thing, how could it be a blip on the road? How could I just move on with my life?

"Are you going to be okay?" Lexie asked as she took my hand in hers and caressed it lightly. I nodded as my heart said no. I wasn't going to be okay. But she deserved so much more than this. I had to let her go on with her life; go on from me, go on from this. I had to let her move on from the pain I was causing her. I had caused them all so much pain and it ripped apart my guts and made me bleed tears inside. "I'm really tired. I think I want to lie down now. I'll talk to you later, okay?" I said as I got up and grabbed a tissue to wipe away my tears. She suddenly grabbed onto me tightly into a hug and I let my arms drape around her.

"I love you. I'll talk to you soon, sweetie," Lexie said as she squeezed me tightly and then I let her go.

I sat on my bed as I watched the door shut behind her. I cried into the tissue as it got saturated and flimsy with my tears. I choked and sobbed as my body shook. The door opened, startling me.

"Dad?" I asked as he slipped into the room and shut the door behind him. He came and sat on the bed next to me.

"I wasn't trying to listen in," he said in his hard voice. "You heard?" I whimpered with a wrinkled forehead.

"People are always going to give people like us trouble, Annalyn.

It's part of being labeled mentally ill. There's always going to be a stigma and that is why I have always kept my past secret. I moved away to get away from it."

"I don't want to move away."

"I'm not saying you have to. But you have to understand that people are afraid of mental illness. And maybe we aren't mentally ill. Maybe there is nothing wrong with us. It doesn't matter now that we have the label. People are going to be against us and that is a part of life now. You will have to know it, accept it and move on."

"I don't know how."

He sighed and continued to look ahead of me sternly. I could feel him trying to be a caring father against his cold exterior. He didn't know how to be warm. He could be fun, he could be mean and angry. But loving and warm isn't something that came easily to him. As I sat there next to him, it stopped mattering that he looked stern, felt cold, was sitting there rigidly and avoiding eye contact. I knew he cared and he wanted to be there for me.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"How am I supposed to move on with this horrible scar across my wrist? Everyone will know what I did." I held in the tears and tried to be strong and matter of fact.

"I have a scar on my abdomen, Annalyn." He said in an even tone. I looked at him with confusion in my eyes. "I tell your mother that it was from getting mugged. I have this whole story worked out about how I was seventeen and walking to a friend's house at night and this guy comes out and tries to steal my wallet and stabs me in the abdomen. The story has always horrified her that she never questions it. She doesn't ever bring up the scar or the story. She doesn't want to talk about it or know anything more about it. Every time she looks at it, I can tell it scares her. So we never talk about it."

"You weren't mugged were you?" I asked in a quivering voice. "No, I wasn't. I was like you once. I hated life and I didn't know what to do so I tried to end it all. That's when I ended up in the psychiatric ward. Well, after I spent time on a medical ward for my injuries."

"Dad..." My eyes teared up as I looked at him.

"It's okay, Annalyn. It was a long time ago and I've never hurt myself since. It was a dark time and it's in the past. Look at me now. I have a life, a family. A wife I love, three girls I love. I got on with my life and now I have a scar that I just pretend isn't there. You will do the same."

"What do I tell people?"

"You were gutting fish with your dad and the knife slipped." He laughed in a deep perturbed way as his belly shook. I smiled hesitantly as my forehead wrinkled. "You're smart, you'll think of something to tell people. If it's scary and creative enough, they won't even question it. Now get some rest, okay."

"Okay," I said meekly as I watched him leave. I sat on my bed and hugged my legs tightly as I looked out the window. The sun was trying to shine through the rain clouds that had gathered overnight. It was bright even against the grey clouds. I buried my head in my knees letting the tears wet my pink pajama pants. I could feel my skin crawl a little as I felt a slight shudder inside.

I sat there and rocked back and forth on my bed as I hugged my knees and my stomach began to flutter wildly. Butterflies were attacking me inside. My heart was thumbing against the walls of my chest like shards shoving themselves into me with each beat. My lungs felt like they were being squeezed and my face smothered. I jumped off my bed and ran to the window and opened it for some fresh air. The cool breeze of autumn flowed into my lungs and feathered up against my cheeks. I choked against the lump in my throat as the tears began to flow. I sobbed as my body shook and I let my head fall into the palms of my hands.

My dad had tried to kill himself in a horrible and gruesome way. I couldn't shake the image of a knife sticking out of a bloody wound in his guts as he lay there bleeding almost to death. I wondered who found him, who saved him from the edge of death. I wondered if he was happy that he had lived or if he had regretted anyone finding him and bringing him back to the despair of life. For awhile, I had been happy to be alive after I slit my wrist. But as I sat there abandoned by my sister and shunned by my best friend, failing out of school, labeled as insane, I wondered if it was really worth it sticking around.

Would my life be doomed to the footsteps of my father, his temper and moodiness and stormy life? Would I have to escape this reality and find a new life somewhere else, another province, new people, disconnected from the past? The wind tickled my face as the tears trickled down in a long line of wetness. Maybe if she could forgive me, maybe if she could understand, if I could have my sister back, maybe then I could go on. I left my room and found myself standing at her door with my knuckles getting ready to knock. My stomach fluttered hard, butterflies scraping their wings on the sides of my guts. I let in a shaky breath and knocked lightly, not able to put much strength or confidence into it. "What?" she said in a sour voice. I hesitated knowing she wouldn't let me in if she knew it was me. I opened the door and quickly slipped in, closing the door behind me. I saw her face droop and her eyes tighten. She didn't speak, just stared into me with knives.

"I need to talk to you. I know you hate me, you don't want to speak to me. I know you think we are no longer sisters. But we have a bond that goes back almost thirteen years. I can't let you forget it, bury it; pretend it was meaningless because I did something stupid. I am not the only one you know," I said unsure of my words.

"What do you mean?" she said in a raspy voice spilling over with unsaid emotions.

I went over and sat on her bed and patted it lightly but she didn't come. I looked down at my feet for a moment, bare foot with unadorned long toe nails, and then I looked up to find myself staring at my reflection in her vanity mirror. I paused as the lump in my throat grew and my eyes began to pulsate with tears trying to force their way out. "I am not the only one who did something stupid like trying to kill themselves, you know. Maybe I shouldn't tell you. I just want to find a way for you to forgive me."

"Who?" she said in a whisper.

"I really don't know if I should tell you." My stomach filled with an anxious quiver.

"Why did you come in here then? Just tell me," she said bitterly. I stared at her, though still seeing my reflection in the periphery of my vision. I saw the tear drip down my face and as I looked at her, I saw the aching inside of her. I didn't have to be psychic to feel her pain. We had a connection and despite her abandonment and my betrayal, I still knew her pain, felt her weeping inside. I knew her loneliness. I wanted to soothe her and what I had to say was something that would only disturb her. But still, maybe it was the thing to make her understand. I sat there pondering what I should do as I stared at her bitter longing face. It demanded answers. Answers that I knew I had to give. "I don't want you to tell. Not mom, not Lydia, and especially not Dad. Whatever you do," my voice broke, "don't tell Dad I told you." "Okay," she whispered in a sob and I knew she sensed the pain of what was to come out of my mouth.

"It was Dad. He was seventeen. He lived somewhere else. Had another life. But he hated it and he was sad, like I was, and he tried to die. Someone saved him. He spent time in the hospital, first in a medical ward for his injuries and then in the psychiatric ward like me. Maybe it runs in our family. Maybe it's like minds. Maybe I'm doomed to follow in his footsteps. His family never understood and he had to leave, start a new life. Maybe I have to too. I can't stay here knowing you hate me, knowing you've given up on us. Maybe," I choked on my words as tears flooded my eyes, "Maybe I should just do what he did and go away." "No. That won't solve anything. You can't just run away from your problems."

"How can you say that when you are the one that doesn't want to be around me anymore, when you are the one giving up on me?"

I sobbed. "I hate you. I hate you so much for what you did but I still love you." She looked down and twiddled her thumbs. I could see drops of tears falling into her lap. We sat in silence for a few seconds and it felt like forever, but my voice was frozen.

"How?" she said so quiet that I almost didn't hear her. I looked at her shocked and fearful as I felt my face twitch nervously, my brows furrowing together. I swallowed deeply and let the reflection of myself pervade my consciousness. There I sat about to tell my sister the most horrible thing she may hear.

"You have to tell me," she insisted in an almost calm manner.

"If you want me to, really want me to, I will. But this isn't something you want to hear. I wish I hadn't heard it. I wish I could go back to the innocence of childhood and never have to know the hell of life. Why does it have to be so unfair that some should know such darkness and pain and others have happiness and easy lives?"

"Just tell me," she whispered as she looked at the ground. "He um... stabbed himself in the abdomen. I don't know the rest. I didn't ask. I never want to know. I hate that I know this."

I looked at her as she stared at me straight faced and frozen. There was silence as neither of us moved, not our faces, our muscles, any part of us. Then she looked down.

"Why would you kill yourself?" she asked as if she were completely innocent of the pain that I knew she was beginning to know. "Life is hard."

"That's not a good enough answer!" Her face went red as she shot an angry glare at me.

"What do you want me to say?" I raised my voice, though still trying to remain calm.

"That there is a good reason. That it is a good choice. That it is worth it to hurt your family if it means escaping the pain. I want to know that what you did was worth it!"

"Why?" I cried. "Why would you want something so horrible to be worth it?"

"Because then I know that you had a good reason for almost leaving me."

"It wasn't a good reason. It was stupid, rash. I didn't think it through at all. I was just angry and emotional. I was depressed. I wasn't well. I hate that I did it and every day I try to move on from it but it never goes away. The consequences will never leave me alone. I did something stupid, everyone knows. That will follow me for the rest of my life." I felt hot tears on my face.

"Then why the hell did you do it! I need to understand. I can't keep going on knowing you didn't care about me."

"I did care about you. There was a momentary lapse in judgment where I forgot who I really was. I just felt the pain and needed it to end. It wasn't about you. It wasn't about any of the things I love. It was just about the pain and it needed to go away. And then I realized how stupid it was. I knew it was a mistake right away. I could have finished the job. I could have cut harder. I didn't! I stopped!"

"It doesn't matter, Annalyn. You still did it. I want to understand it. To know it would be worth it."

"Maybe one day you will be in my shoes and you will understand. It is hell to feel that much pain. It doesn't matter that there was no reason for the pain. It doesn't matter that it was just some biological dysfunction. I was hurting so much. If you felt that much pain, you would understand. I couldn't think about anything else. I was sick!"

"Well, maybe I'll just fucking kill myself! I hate you. I hate what you've done to me. You've taken away my childhood, my innocence, my happiness. Do you have any idea what the hell you've done to me?" "How could I have done anything to you? I hurt you, but I didn't take away anything from you. Nothing is my fault."

"How can you say that? You don't even have any idea how screwed up you've made me. You screwed me up Annalyn."

"Stop talking like some dark screwed up teenager. You're twelve. You're still a kid. You're innocent and sweet and this little girl that I love so much and just stop acting like you're so much older and so much more screwed up than you are. Please."

"Why can't you see? Why are you too blind to see beyond yourself? You are so selfish. I can't understand how you can be so selfish. Don't you even care about me, how I'm feeling? My pain?"

"What pain? Tell me. I want to know. I just don't think you know what kind of pain I am talking about."

"I hate life. I hate it so much. And I hate you. I never did. I never felt this way before you had to go and make such a big deal about how unhappy you were. I was happy. I was so much better off and you just made it all so crappy. And to make things worse, you won't even accept responsibility for it."

"I want to. What can I do to make it better? Please, just tell me how to make amends."

"You can't."

"I have to. There has to be something I can do. Just give me something. Tell me. I want to go back to the way things were. To swinging under the maple tree on sunny Sundays. To playing jump rope and singing blue bells. Teaching you hopscotch and then putting Band-Aids on your knees after you fall and kissing them better. I want to go back to being the older sister you can always count on. I want to go back to being the sister you love and look up to. Just tell me how, please." She sobbed as her whole body shook and her face turned a bright red. "How the hell should I know. You screwed everything up. You figure it out."

"I just don't know how. Please help me." I whimpered in broken gasps.

"I'm not the one who is supposed to be helping you. You help me, Annalyn. You make me better!"

"Stop asking things I can't do!" I cried.

"Do it now! Take away this pain. Make it go away!" She screeched loudly.

"How?" I whispered as I stood up and tilted my head pleading with her.

"Just make it all go away!" Her shrill voice stung my ears and I cried harder and sobbed into my hands. "Make it all go away. I need it all to go away!"

"Please stop this. I don't know what to do. Just stop this. Love me again. Be my sister again. Let's just go back. Please please please." "Get out. You can't help me. You don't want to. So go. Just go!" she screamed.

I left solemnly as my eyes pleaded with her for forgiveness. As soon as I was out the door, it slammed shut in an angry bang of thunder. I sunk down to the ground and leaned against her door as my body shook with painful sobs.

My nerves entrapped me in a sea of chaos as I sat there on my bed feeling choked. My head was swimming with rampant thoughts. What if she never forgave me? What if she never spoke to me again? I felt a tremor in my heart as my thoughts raced of Janey. My soaking wet eyes crinkled up as I shut them tightly, praying to God, to anyone, to some sort of power out there, that my sister would forgive me. A tingle crept down my spine. I couldn't shake this feeling that she was lying in bed in the next room unable to sleep as she thought of our fight. I needed to reconcile with her so badly. It didn't matter that it was almost three am.

As I reached her bedroom, I smiled at her name colourfully decorating the door with glitter that sparkled in the golden glow of the nightlight my parents kept in the hallway. I slowly turned the knob and peaked into the room. She was completely under the covers except for a stray arm that dangled out from under the comforter and lay milky white in the moonlight. The room was almost completely dark except for a strip of moonlight that drew itself down the centre of the room and over her arm from the open slit in the curtains. I wondered if she was awake despite the crisp cold silence in the room.

I walked up to her bed and whispered her name but she didn't stir. Disappointment sank into my heart to know that she was fast asleep while I was awake so desperately needing her forgiveness. I swallowed past the lump in my throat as I turned to go away. Something stopped me and I turned back around. I couldn't let her sleep so peacefully as I intruded in her room without saying it. "I'm sorry," I whispered knowing she was either listening angrily while she pretended to sleep or she was fast asleep and would never know I said it. Maybe she'd hear it in her dreams and think of me.

I stood there for a moment and she didn't move. The comforter never moved and my heart dropped for a moment as I held my breath and watched for her breath, realizing it had never come.

"Janey?" I whispered loudly. "Janey?" I said in a distraught voice. "Janey!" I screamed. "Janey!"

I ripped the covers off the bed and dove to her, trying to shake her awake. I grabbed onto her tightly shaking her as I hugged her still body.

"Janey! Wake up! Wake up!" I cried shrill and realized the front of my shirt was soaking wet. "No, Janey. Just wake up. Wake up wake up wake up..." I panicked. "No... No!" I screamed as my heart ripped out of my chest and pounded against the walls of the room, echoing the terror inside of my head.

The lights flooded the room and painfully into my eyes. I turned around in horror to see my parents' dead shocked faces staring at me, wide mouthed, wide eyed.

"Mom!" I cried as the tears sheered their way down my face in a river. "Momma! Oh mom!" I sobbed painfully as my chest shook.

Mom and Dad stared for a second, for what felt like an eternity, and then I heard mom's shrill scream like a horror show.

"Out of the way!" I heard him yell as I felt my body torn away from the bed. "Janey!"

"Call an ambulance, Neil! Call for help! Call! Call now!" She screamed over and over.

I sat there on the plush carpet staring forward, not knowing if I was even breathing, or if my heart was beating, if I was alive. I sat there until I was moved out of the way and into the hallway by someone. I don't even know who. I sat there. Frozen. Chilled. My throat was thick and lumpy and I felt like I couldn't swallow it was so dry. So I didn't try. I didn't do anything but sit there. There was no movement inside me, but there was a rush around me. Sirens at first. Then men in paramedic uniforms. And more men in uniforms. Different ones this time. Police uniforms. Dark coloured. I heard their radios. I felt their presence. I didn't know what was happening but I felt people's presence around me and I just sat there because I didn't know how to do anything else. And then one of them came to talk to me. He kept asking me what happened.

"I..." I shook my head and tried to speak. "I just... I..." I sniffled loud and harsh and tried to swallow. "Mom? I want my mom," was all I could say.

I could hear her crying loudly in her bedroom as my father sat with her. I heard the sound of his gentle hushes. My whole body was chilled and I felt myself shivering until a blanket was thrown around my shoulders and I was nudged to move from the spot on the hallway floor I had felt cemented to for what felt like forever.

"Why don't you come with me?" I heard a regretful voice tell me as I was gently guided down the hall. I felt like I couldn't walk, yet I was stepping forward with each of the officer's steps. I numbly made it down the hallway to where my parents sat in each other's arms as the other officer spoke to them.

"Mom?" my mouth quivered and she held out her arms as I fell into her, hanging onto her tightly as I shivered against her warmth. Her body shook against mine as she sobbed. My father's thick arm draped itself around us.

The officer kept talking to my father as he tried to answer questions. My dad's voice was hallow and sad as it spoke in a broken quiver. I tried to follow what they were saying but it was all a blur. I didn't need to ask if my sister was okay. I knew she was gone. The smears of red on my shirt from when I tried to shake life into her haunted me as I sat there getting my sister's blood all over my mom, who was probably already covered in it anyways. My hands were red with her blood that had started to dry. It was a dark crimson red. It was as lifeless as her and my hands shivered in it. Mom held me and I held her and my father held both of us.

I remember when Lydia got there. Mom broke away from me and I heard Lydia's screaming and crying as mom and dad talked to her down the hall from me. My brain was starting to work again because I actually heard some of what they were saying and I could comprehend their words.

Dad in a weak voice... "Stabbed herself with a kitchen knife in the stomach.... Bled to death...." sobs... "she died right there while we slept... she died alone..." uncontrollable sobs.

"My baby is dead. Oh my baby... Oh my baby... Neil..." deafening cries.

And then it was silent except for the whimpers and cries. There was nothing left to say. Just tears and screams and thoughts about how this could happen. Why? Why! It screamed inside my head. My sister was dead. Janey was dead.

Dark clouds lingered over the graveyard as I stood next to my sister's grave. It conveniently started to thunder as we stood there saying goodbye. Rippling drums in the sky echoed the mood of the four of us as we hovered over the six foot hole to an eternity of loneliness in the dark. The dirt had gone muddy as the rain spit on us, dappling tit tit sounds on the two large black umbrellas we huddled under. A minister stood before us, holy book in hand, and read words that blurred over my foggy mind.

She would be in peace. That is what people assured me as they patted my shoulders gently at the memorial service earlier that day. I just sat there on the front pews next to my parents and Lydia refusing to move, to eat the food, to talk to people, to acknowledge reality in any way whatsoever. I sat like a cancerous lump growing irately in the pew and stubbornly refusing to move. I sat there through sad soulful songs, through people reading poems they had written and poems by famous people that they felt would move people. But I couldn't feel. I couldn't be moved emotionally any more than they could move me out of that pew and breathe life into me. I didn't say anything during the memorial service. I couldn't speak past the lump in my throat and only managed to nod every so often. And then the kind words about her stopped and it was over. People said goodbye and I'm sorry and they left. Lots of people were there but they were all leaving because it was over and she was gone and this was life, our life, over now. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for your loss.

Once the people had gone and the doors to the room where we had sat in rows before her casket had been shut, I was told it was time. Mommy held my hand tightly with her cold fingers wrapping around mine as they trembled together.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for your loss. It repeated in my head over and over as I stood up, dizzily, and walked over to the white metal casket with brass adornments. It reminded me of a white horse, beautiful and pure, that a princess might ride off on into the rolling hills on. My sister would be buried in the mud in it instead. Messy sloppy slimy dirt soiling this beautiful masterpiece of a casket where the most precious girl lay, supposedly in peace, to rot away in. I ran my hand against the cold steel and traced my fingers down over the brass handles.

"Open it," I said in a raspy whisper filled with the congestion of days of tears.

Lydia's hand rubbed my back and soon she was pulling me into her arms as she sobbed. Mom hung onto Dad and the four of us stood there as they opened the casket. Mom broke down and wailed into my Dad's black suit. I could feel Lydia shaking against me. I pulled away from her and walked right up to the white velvet puffiness and saw my fragile sister laying in it silently, still, peaceful.

I traced my fingers against her forehead. It was a pale grey almost, but dusted with makeup. Lots of makeup as if it would hide the sorrow in her dead face. She looked plastic as I stood there before her, like a wax figurine that had been pumped full of embalming stuff and made up all pretty by the funeral people. Her hair had been trimmed as it lay wavy on her shoulders and she wore a pretty pink eyelet dress with white glossy ballet flats. She looked far from the preteen that wore jeans and a t-shirt and liked to swear when she thought our parents weren't around. I kissed my sister's cold forehead before whispering in her ear.

"I'm sorry," I said as if it would ever mean anything now.

We cried and said goodbye and huddled against each other and the casket was closed, never to see her again.

I shivered as I stood at the side of her grave after the memorial service, shivered inside and out and my mind quivered as the images of that waxy-like body lay before me. My family watched as her casket descended into the ground. Six feet under and gone from our lives forever. My dad grabbed a pile of muddy dirt and let it fall from his hand into the grave, tarnishing the white casket, dirtying up the white horse that would keep her safe for the rest of her death. We each took our turn and when I reached down and grabbed a handful of slimy mud, I felt like I couldn't get back up. I gasped and pleaded in my head, begging for this nightmare to end. Let her be alive to scream at me again. Let her be alive so we can fight, so she can yell at me, tell me how much I betrayed her, let her release all her anger and pain onto me. Let her tell me how much she was hurting, how desperate she was. And then I save her and we make up and we are all okay again. Let it happen. Please.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for your loss. It repeats again and I drop dirt onto her grave, mud falling from my fingers and into oblivion. I get up and we walk away. We turn away. We turn away from her and she is dead and there is nothing I can do. Nothing any of us can do.

Chapter 13

Chills crawled over my body, goose bumps on pale flesh, as I sat against the late October breeze. It was crisp and cool. Dry leaves flowed through it, leaving a stream of orange and brown speckles through the air. It would have been a beautiful sight on any other day. But this day, as I sat in the park alone and saw the leaves fall from the trees, I thought only of the death of nature. Every year it died, went dormant. The trees became skeletons; the ground became buried under dead leaves and eventually the snow. It never occurred to me that every year there was this massive death all around me each fall. And if I had thought of it, it would never have mattered. I didn't know death. I knew what it meant intellectually but I had never known the deep meaning that death caused. It wasn't until I stood a few hours earlier at a cold October gravesite and buried my little sister that I knew what real grief was.

I returned home from the park where I had sat numb against the cold for hours trying to get away from it all. As I walked home, the horizon was an orange-red sky behind me. I walked east into the darkening sky where faint stars had started to appear. The moon was absent from the sky that night, though I knew it was there somewhere cloaked in the darkness of a new moon. I reached the front door and stood with my hands trembling. My breath quivered and tears filled my eyes. I turned around and sat on the steps. The cement was cold on my butt but I knew it was even more frigid inside. The door creaked and I saw a shadow hovering over me.

"They were worried about you. You've been gone for hours. You should have told us where you were going." Lydia's voice was heavy as it slunk down over me.

I didn't turn around but instead huddled inside myself and wrapped my arms around my legs. I buried my chin in my knees and let the tears fall. There was a chilly breeze giving me goose bumps again. Little blond hairs were standing up on my pale arms. The shadow behind me never moved. I could feel her presence standing heavy behind me.

"I needed to be alone. I went to the park." My voice was dead and heavy as it dropped out of my mouth.

She came and sat beside me, hugging her knees in the same way as me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her red tear-filled eyes staring forward into an abyss. I looked out towards the horizon to see that the orange-red had disappeared and darkness was falling fast over the entire sky. The stars were now dotting the dark blue. I stared up at them and wondered if there was anything meaningful in any of those stars. Maybe they were more than just stars. Maybe they were more than just old light shining our way from a billion years ago. I wondered if there was anything special about starlight. Were the stars a window to a heaven where my sister was watching over us? Or was she dead and gone, buried in the dirt to rot and never exist in any form again? I looked over at Lydia expecting her to be staring at the stars as well but her eyes were hollow and blurred over. I frowned and looked forward into the nothingness that I knew she was staring into. We sat there silently for awhile.

"Do you think—" I started.

"I don't think anymore," she said in a dull voice, not moving her fixed gaze.

"I just... what if there is more than this... more to existence than this life. What if..." I choked on my words as the tears fell down, tickling my cheeks.

"There is nothing more than this. She's dead. Gone. What a waste of a life," she said shaking her head. She began to sob, holding her face in her hands. I watched her back rise and fall erratically.

I put my hand gently on her shoulder but she swatted it away.

"This wouldn't have happened you know. Not if—" she stopped and sobbed harder.

"Not if what?" I asked with a snap in my voice.

"You." She looked deep into the abyss as she slowly, rhythmically shook her head. "You had to bring us down. You had to make her sad." Her voice was slow and even but low like death.

"What?" I cried loudly. "What the hell? You think I did this? You think it's my fault?" A lump in my throat began to choke me. I whimpered and gasped. I broke down and sobbed into my knees. I could hear Lydia sniffling. I looked up at her with eyes that could pierce into her flesh. I wailed in a shrill voice that edged deep into my throat, "I didn't mean to hurt her. I didn't mean to make her want to die. I swear to God I didn't mean to." My whole body shook as my chest ached tightly.

She didn't look at me and instead spoke in this calm dead voice that was barely above a whisper. "But you did do it. You did it and now she is dead."

"I'm sorry, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to," I wept, my throat becoming raw, "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry..." I choked on my words as I cried, "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me too. I'm so sorry!" I screamed out, my whole body in violent shakes.

"It doesn't matter." I looked at her, tears a mess over my hot face, and she looked as if she were dead. She couldn't even look at me. She just stared into nothingness. I pushed her. I pushed her hard. I just shoved her right over with all my strength. I wanted to kick her after that but I restrained myself. She grabbed my wrist and bent my arm upwards holding me there. She stared straight into me with her deep brown eyes until I felt terror breathing inside of me.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" she spat out as she pushed me aside and briskly walked inside.

I fell to the cement sobbing until it was hard to breathe and I had to gasp for air. I could feel where the bruises would form on my hip after I landed hard on the edge of the step. It was a good pain though. It was a well-deserved pain. And when I realized that, I cried even more and began to whimper. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I didn't mean it." My voice was broken and a whisper. It was barely recognizable to that once smart girl I used to be two months earlier.

I quickly retreated to my room, managing to avoid everyone on my way in. I shut the door quietly and curled up on my bed letting tears fall onto my pillow. I hid myself under the thick comforter. Darkness was pervading me as I bundled my head under the covers. My heart beat fast and hard. It thudded inside my chest. I forced breath in and out in an effort to keep myself alive despite the feeling that I shouldn't be allowed to live anymore. It was my fault she died. I brought the darkness to her and she drown in it, it sucked her into an abyss, swallowed her up until she couldn't take it anymore.

I tossed and turned until the blankets were tangled around me. I knew I'd never fall asleep but I needed a nap. I had barely slept in the last five nights. The preceding days had been a blur, a paralyzing daze. But the nights—I could remember them well because of what happened each time I closed my eyes. When I let my eyelids shut blood splattered across my vision. Her blood was everywhere. I could see her dead body swimming in a pool of it—the blood that had flooded her bed and the carpet around her with crimson red.

My eyes pried open, muscles straining to keep them open as wide as possible. Don't let them shut. Don't let the darkness get to you. My eyes watered, blurred and stinging, as I felt the air on them. Don't let them shut! I screamed inside my head. A chill ran down my spine and over my naked arms. Reflexively, my eyes shut for a second and a thick gooey red washed over them. I shuddered and held my breath. One... two... three... four... It will go away. Just ignore it. Five... six... seven... Breath rushed out of me. I can't take this anymore!

I whimpered into my hands as they trembled. My breaths went fast and shallow. My throat felt like it was in a cinch. My erratic heart raced. I cried, sobbed, whimpered and wailed. I threw my fists at myself, punching each forearm until I felt the ache spreading through them. I touched the skin on my arm and it was tender with red spots from furious knuckles blotched throughout. I pressed hard on the bruising tissue and I liked the pain. It soothed my head somehow. I don't even know how, but it did. I pressed again and again, over each tender area and my head swam in a soothing numbness. And then suddenly, I struck out at myself again, punching my fists into my arms. Striking several times in a blitz, my arms were quickly a bright warm red. The pain in them throbbed as my mind was soothed over and over again.

I sobbed in silence, stilled as the tears ran down my warm cheeks. I watched as the tears dropped onto my arms and ran over the red blotches of bruising tissue and then into my empty lap to the blankets below me. Each tear took the same path. Drip drip drip. Drip drip drip into a void. Tears were falling into the darkness below me, gone, dead. I was entranced by this. I let my eyes water until they blurred. My mind became synchronized with my slowing breaths and soon I had lay down, tears now wetting my pillow, and I started to sleep. Darkness. There was a soothing ache in my arms as I sank into the darkness again. Breaths slowing. Heart thumps fading. Asleep.

The ground was in tremors below me. I awoke to find myself in a bed of rocks and pebbles. I winced as I pushed myself off the ground, sharp little rocks like daggers in my palms. I stood wobbling in a daze and stumbled forward a few steps until I got my balance. The ground vibrated beneath my bare feet. I looked down at my stinging feet and saw the crimson spots of blood from sharp rocks, broken glass and twisted metal on a harsh ground below me. Shadows were growing dark and long around me as night fell in a matter of seconds. There was no time for me to know where I was.

Flash of light. Bright. It beat into my retinas and blinded me. I stood there bathed in it, still and entranced like a deer frozen in headlights. It was like bright whiteness flooding over me. Was I dead? Was this the gateway to heaven? I stepped forward and inched closer to the light and then I realized it was coming fast towards me. The ground was shaking beneath me, tremors growing into earthquakes. Light washing over me as the ground broke beneath me. And suddenly I realized what it was. Train. Fear. Panic. Smash. Darkness. Silence. Peace.

Water splished against me. I was submerged in it, sinking fast into the darkness, the blood from the accident washing away as I sank deeper and deeper. The red water floated higher as I dove into the dark blue depths. My heart slowing. My breaths gone, there was no need for them anymore. Everything was slow and blurry. Calm. It was a calm death as the sea washed me away. I watched the light from above the water as it got smaller and smaller, farther and farther away. Muddy blue peace. Silence. Calm. Calm death.

I awoke with a heavy feeling over my head. I let my eyes open slowly to find the darkness of the world surrounding my room, no moonlight to come through my curtains. Just dark. I looked at the clock, red numbers glowing at me, 4:52. I sighed, letting breath heave out of my lungs into the crisp cool air of my bedroom. I could see my breath— little puff of mist in the darkness lit up only by the light in the hallway coming through the slit of the door. It was then I realized something was wrong. I got out of bed and went into the hallway to find Mom digging through the linen closet. She shivered in her white cotton nightgown, dots of eyelet with pink flesh showing through.

"What's going on?" I asked her.

"Furnace isn't working." She grabbed a couple blankets from the closet and passed them to me. "Your dad is trying to fix it. Don't worry. Just go back to bed and bundle up with these." She strained her face into a smile.

"Okay." I said, taking the blankets.

I went back into my room and shut the door, the darkness sinking around me. I could feel a cold breeze wrap around me. I was chilled as the goose bumps stood my hairs up. The curtains were blowing out by the window as gusts came in. I rushed to the window to shut it and realized it was already shut. I stepped backwards slowly, my heart racing, and as I reached my bed, I saw her in the vanity mirror. A ghost. My sister's ghost. Her silhouette was standing there staring at me. I froze, my breath rising out of me in misty puffs. My chest ached and I felt her touching me like a cold wind wrapping around me. Suddenly I could hear her inside of my head.

"It's your fault."

"What?" I whispered in a cry.

"Death becomes you."

"Janey?"

"You make death."

"Stop it!" I said in a hushed cry.

"I'm dead because of you. Now death becomes you. Be still while we take you."

"We?" My body tremored.

Light flooded in the room suddenly and I screamed, "Don't take me! I'm sorry!"

"Annalyn?" Mom's eyes were wide and her expression frozen on her face until she spoke. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, Mom!" I ran and hugged her tightly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for her to die. I didn't know she'd die because of me."

I sobbed into the white cotton eyelet of her nightgown. Tears soaked into the fabric as my wails were muffled by it. I began to collapse to the floor as I felt my mother trying to hold me up. We sunk into the ground together as her hand held my head tightly. I could feel her cries as her body shook with mine.

"Shhh..." she managed to whisper beneath her cries. She stroked my hair with her trembling hands. "We shouldn't speak of this anymore." Her voice was broken and meek as it gently whispered into my ear.

"Mommy, I'm so sorry. I've been so terrible. It's all my fault." I cringed as I latched onto her, my body shaking alongside hers.

"Shhh..."

"No!" I startled her and she broke away from our hug, her eyes shocked and confused as she stared at me. "I did something bad and I deserve to be punished." I sniffled. "Just let me be punished. Just let it come."

"Let what come?" she said, weak, as she shook her head, slow and rhythmic.

"I don't know but I will die. I saw Janey's ghost and she told me so. Let it come, Mom. It's the only way."

She broke down and sobbed into her hands. I could see her back rising and falling erratically as she cried, collapsed in her own lap.

"Mom?" I said hesitantly.

"No! Just stop this!" She snapped. "You didn't see a ghost. Have you been taking your medications?" She looked at me just above a whisper. Her eyes were glassy and dim and her voice was raspy.

"What?" I whimpered.

"I don't have the energy for this anymore, Annalyn. I can't take you being ill anymore. If you don't take your medications, I just don't know what I will do. I can't do this anymore." Tears were streaming down her worn face. She began shaking her head over and over, just rhythmically back and forth as if she were in a trance. Tears kept falling and her eyes were glazed over.

"Mom?" I whimpered.

"What's going on?" Dad yelled as he stomped up the stairs. "Why is your mother crying, Annalyn?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt her."

"What did you do?" I felt his grip tight around my arm as he pulled me up off the carpet and began shaking me. "What did you do to her!" His eyes were red, the skin dark and puffy around them. They tore into me as his stare dug into my soul.

"I'm sorry. Please. I'm sorry!" He threw me back to the ground.

"What does it even matter anymore?" he said and stomped off, not even attending to Mom as she sat there heaving cries into her lap.

"I'm sorry, Mommy. I know her death was my fault."

She just kept crying in her lap and I realized that she must have thought the same thing or else she would tell me it wasn't true. A panic rushed over me, heart aching in my chest. Crushing pain. I tried to breathe but I could only gasp for air as I became smothered. I ran into my room, tears falling down my face. I didn't know why I was surprised that she blamed me. I blamed myself. But for her to blame me too, I couldn't take that. My chest hurt, like something was stabbing into my heart. Gasping for air. I felt like I was dying. I fell to the floor and felt the painful jolt of knees hitting the ground.

"Oh my God," I whispered to myself as I sat in the dark.

I broke down and let myself fall to the floor crying, the scratchy carpet on my cheek. Tears leaking to the floor. I was broken.

I woke up the next morning with a tense ache gripping my head. I lifted myself off the ground and grazed my fingers across the carpet indentations speckled on my cheek. I felt a chill as I touched my face. Goose bumps standing up my arm hairs. I shivered. It wasn't cold. It was a coldness inside me that ate deep into my soul. I felt a violated. I was violated by life, by what life had done to me, by the brokenness inside myself. Life had violated me, betrayed me. I was nothing more than an empty vessel, dead after the loss of my sister and now filled only with turmoil, guilt and mourning. I got up and went downstairs for breakfast. I was a zombie going through the usual motions of my morning.

Cereal. Plain flakes. No sugar. I didn't deserve sweetness anymore. I poured it into the bowl and felt myself twitching irritably as I listened to the sprinkling sounds of cornflakes falling to the ceramic. Suddenly I felt this strong urge to just throw the damn bowl to the floor. Watch it smash. Pick up the pieces and just slice myself right up with them. Blood. Blood would be everywhere!

"Morning," Mom said dead-voiced, her face frozen without movement, as she entered the kitchen and went about her choirs.

"Hi Mom," I said politely.

I watched her at the sink, her back turned to me. I just stared at her and wondered what was going on in her mind. I wondered if she hated me. She must despise me now. I was the reason for her beloved daughter's death. I knew she wanted me dead now. I could feel her anger seeping through the air towards me. I shuddered and felt my skin chill. I narrowed my eyes at her as if they could jab into her. How dare she blame me! How dare she hate me! I could feel a lump growing in my throat. I couldn't cry, not here, not in front of her. If she saw me cry... if she knew... I was losing coherence in my own mind as I stood there. And then I realized it. I loved her so much that my chest ached when I looked at her. I wanted to hate her for hating me. But when I tried, I just had an unbearable urge to sob. I left the room.

As I passed through the living room I saw the epitome of hatred: my father sitting there in his leather chair reading the newspaper. I felt a freeze as I walked past him, his eyes on me, all over me, violating me with hatred. My heart jumped as I neared him. And then it raced. I could feel my forehead glisten with sweat. I kept walking. I went straight for the front door. As I was about to turn the knob, I felt his presence behind me.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a grim voice.

"Nowhere. I just want some air." My voice was meek and squeaky next to his stern voice.

"Fine." He turned and walked away. But I could still hear him. "You are a horrible person, Annalyn. A failure in life. You ought to die for what you did to my good daughter."

I shook in my spot. Trembled. And then I found myself screaming shrilly at him.

"I didn't do it! I didn't kill her! I know you want me dead. The both of you. You're conspiring against me and I know it."

He turned around with a confused look on his face. "What in God's name are you talking about?" I could feel his critical voice cutting deep into my soul.

"I know what you are doing. You're trying to drive me out of this house!"

"Calm down, Annalyn. No one is trying to do anything to you," my father spoke.

"What's wrong?" Mom asked as she emerged from the dining room with puffy eyes.

"You hate me!" I screamed. "You both hate me!"

"Calm down, sweetheart. No one hates you. Your father and I love you." She said it nonchalant as if it didn't matter, as if it wasn't true. Just tell her what she needs to hear to shut her up. That's what my mother had been thinking. I know it.

"That's not what he said a minute ago. He told me I was a horrible person and a failure in life." I turned to him. "How dare you say that to me. I might have cowered before, but I'm through with taking this abuse from you."

"What has gotten into you?" he yelled. "I never said anything of the sort."

"Liar! You're both liars!"

"Please stop this!" Mom cried. "You're sick. She's sick again, Neil. Oh, I just can't take this anymore." Tears streamed down her cringing face. I could see her hands trembling as she wrung them together.

"Look what you are doing to your mother!" I looked at her as my guts churned.

"I'm sorry, Mommy." I cried. "I'm sorry... so sorry... so sorry." I was trembling now, my whole body twitching and shaking.

"Annalyn, maybe you should go take your medication. Take some extra and we'll call your doctor, okay? I'm starting to think I was wrong before when I told you that you were not ill. The Annalyn I know wouldn't talk like this. You're scaring us all!" His spitting tone rang in my ears.

My dad left the room. I stood there shaking and watching my poor mother out of the corner of my eye. She stood there sniffling and wiping her eyes with the crumpled up tissues she got from her pocket. A few minutes later, Dad re-emerged.

He held out his hands. "Take these."

"No!" I cried.

"You need them," he said as he forced my fisted hand open and put the colourful array of pills in my hand.

I threw them in his face. "Leave me alone!"

I ran out the door and into the freedom. I just ran. I ran. I just ran. I ran down the street with the October chill all around me, its wind whistling in my ears. I ran. My heart was racing, my chest aching. The minute I stopped I had to gasp for air and pant hard. Chilled sweat tickled my forehead. I was trembling and cold to the bone. I looked around me not knowing where I was. I just felt like I was swimming in the dizziness of the world around me. Some residential street. Houses I didn't know. People staring at me from their windows. Suspicious people and I was suspicious of them. Who did they work for? Were they out to get me too? Did they know my psychiatrist? Did they work for the cops that brought me to the hospital that time? Did they know and love my sister? Did they blame me for her death too? Did they want me dead! I had to run. Run more. Keep running. Run away from all of this.

I found myself in the park. I found myself at that bench I had sat on before and watched the dawn come. But there was no dawn this time. No beautiful sun peaking up from the horizon. It was cloudy. It was starting to rain. I felt the misty drops of rain speckle my arms. I looked down at my bare arms and realized I was still in my pajamas. Plain grey T-shirt and green plaid pajama pants. My heart dropped when I realized I wasn't even wearing shoes but slippers. I felt dizzy and sick. What was I doing? How could I run all that way in slippers? I didn't know what was going on. I was so confused. I needed help. I needed my mom to love me again, but she didn't. She hated me. She blamed me for my sister's death. She wanted me dead.

My heart throbbed and my head pounded. I sank to the wet grass as the rain began to pelt down on me. I shuddered and began to shake wildly both from cold and fear. My hands trembled as I held them up to my face and felt the tears falling amidst the rain that streaked my cheeks. I was going to die. I didn't know how but I felt like I would die. My stomach sank to the ground and my heart quivered. I suddenly had trouble breathing as I became smothered by some invisible force. I was going to die. And then I could hear someone yelling at me—a loud edgy and strong voice.

"You deserve to die! You killed your sister! You killed and now you must be killed. Kill yourself or they will kill you. They hate you. Hate you. Hate you. Hate—"

"Shut up!" I screamed as I threw my arms up in the air.

"Annalyn?" I felt a touch on my shoulder and I jumped to my feet and flung myself around, ready to fight.

"I'll kill you if you hurt me!" I screamed.

"Annalyn, stop! It's me." I blinked and saw Lexie standing there wide-eyed and tense as the rain left her sopping wet.

"Lexie?" I sighed happily. "Oh, Lexie!" I hugged her tightly as I wept into her wet tangled hair. "Please help me."

"I will. Let's get in my car, okay?"

"How did you know I was here?" I said, relieved as I saw her car in the parking lot.

"Your mother called me. I figured you'd be here. You always come here."

"My mother?"

"Yeah." "But she wants me dead. You have to help me, Lexie. She thinks I killed my sister. I can't go back to that house. You have to help me!"

"No, sweetie. No one wants you dead. No one thinks you killed Janey. We just want to help you. Come on, I'll take you home." She put her arm around my shoulder and tried to lead me to her car.

"No!" I pushed her out of my way and jumped several feet ahead of her. "Who are you working for? The doctors? The cops? My parents? It's all a conspiracy. I'm not going to let you hurt me. I didn't kill her. You have to believe me. Oh, Lexie, if I don't have you, I've got nothing." I fell to the muddy grass and sobbed into my hands. "I have nothing!" I trembled in my whole body.

"Shhh..." she said as she gently put her hand on me. "You do have me."

"I am so lost. I am so lost without her!" My body shook with cries as the rain drowned me.

"I know, sweetie. I know." She sat down beside me and pulled me into her arms.

"I can't go back there, Lexie."

"Shhh..."

I felt weak and tired. I couldn't fight any longer. "I'm sorry. It's all a mess because of me."

"Shhh..." She held me tight as I cried and my body quivered against her strength. "It will be okay." I looked up into her eyes and saw sincerity that went deep into her soul. I nodded and got up and went home. I never stopped trembling but I was too weak to fight anymore. Too weak, too broken and too lost. The shower ran, water running through pipes and jetting out in a harsh stream, pelting down on tiles, pooling at the drain and sinking down into the dark hole that looked like oblivion. I sat there on the blue fuzzy bathmat beside the shower and just watched it. I was chilled from the rain, goose bumps on pale flesh and hair tangled in a wet mess. I felt cemented to the floor as I sat there. I couldn't get into the shower. I looked at it with doom and I knew it would just be too much to get in. I couldn't bare the pelting of water on my skin. I couldn't bare the feel of warm water and then cold air when it turned off. I couldn't stand the sound of the shower all around me, water rushing over me, down around me. I didn't want to be trapped on the other side of that glass door, enclosed in a world of dark blue tiles that stacked high and low and all around. Showering was just too much. Too much work. Too much stimulation. Too much hot and cold and it made me shudder and clench to think about doing it. They told me to shower when I got home. Get out of that rain and get warm in the shower. And so there I was sitting on the bathmat pretending to shower because it was just all too much.

There was a knock at the door that startled me.

"What?" I said with frustration.

"You've been in there a long time, sweetie. Are you okay?" my mom asked through the door.

"I'm enjoying the shower," I said as I hugged my naked self.

I waited and listened. She was gone. I sighed, long and heavy, got up off the floor and put on some clothes. Black sweat pants, black long sleeve shirt. Clean underwear. No bra. I'd given up on bras by that point—given up on pretty. I left the bathroom and shuffled over to my bedroom. I lay under the covers to hide from the daylight that sank into my room. I could hear the tittering of rain on the roof, scratching of tree branches in the wind outside my window. It soothed me as I lay there, numb to life, numb to anything but the thought of death and how the world around me wanted me dead.

My head was crowded with thoughts as I lay face up on my bed and stared at the cottage cheese ceiling. I couldn't stop thinking. Thoughts raced inside of me like a high speed train, only I was terrified of trains and wouldn't in my right mind go near one. But I wasn't in my right mind anymore. I lay there with thoughts spilling out of my brain. Reverberating thoughts on how a high speed train was smashing through my mind. I shuddered as I lay there thinking about it. My skin felt like it was crawling with goose bump that were layering themselves over my arms. My little thin arm hairs were sticking straight up and my heart was racing faster than I felt it could handle. I wanted some peace but my mind just wouldn't shut up.

The thoughts were about anything and everything. I had a lot of criticizing thoughts. I should have done this... I shouldn't have done that... I was stupid for ever bothering with this or that... How could I have done such a thing...? Why? Why did I do that? I am such a moron! Lots of thoughts like that. And then there were the ever abundant ideas filling my head. Wouldn't it be cool if I became an astronaut and traveled in space? I could invent a spaceship. Wouldn't that be cool? Or I could invent some sort of immortality device. Maybe I should get frozen, or cryo... whatever it's called, so that I can be revived in the future where people are living in outer space and flying around the galaxy. Wouldn't that just be cool? I don't know why I thought it would be cool. And then there were the thoughts about my dead sister. The thoughts that made me want to cry and scream into the depths of my soul that I should be dead instead of her. I miss Janey. Wouldn't it be nice if Janey were here for this? I wonder what Janey would think of... I wonder if Janey's spirit thinks of me... I wonder if Janey hates me... I wonder if Janey watches me... What if she wants to haunt me...? Could she scare me? Was that her that day I thought I saw a ghost? Does she want me dead? Can a ghost kill me? Should I kill myself and get it over with? Would sacrificing myself save her somehow? Why did she have to kill herself? Was it my fault? There were too many thoughts of Janey.

As I lay there, I started to get lost and baffled by my thoughts. They were becoming such a mishmash that I couldn't follow them anymore. I just felt dizzy. I needed peace. I needed to feel calm again. I needed to think like a normal person again, no more trains! Shuddup! Shuddup! Just give me some peace! I threw my fists at myself, punching my left arm with my right fist. I pounded myself over and over again. Each strike made my heart feel like it was skipping a beat. But it was calming. Soothing. I touched the tender skin on my arm, pushing on it to make it ache. I loved the pain. I looked down at my arm and saw the little brown bruises that dotted my arm from the last time I did this. I was thankful for long sleeves this time of year so no one noticed them. Now my arm was marked up with red spots from the fresh hits. I took in a deep breath and held it as I did another blitz attack and pounded my knuckles into my right arm. Each strike ached hard over my whole arm and made the skin tender but I would punch it over and over again, several times in a row, until my whole arm ached with a mind-numbness that soothed me. Soon the sides of both my arms were completely red from the wrist to the elbow. Again, I touched the tender skin and pushed on it and a rush of soothing pain flooded over me, again, again, again... push into the pain, push into the anger, push into the sorrow. Pain will free me. Pain will release me.

"Annalyn?" Dad said as he stood at my door. It was open to my surprise and he stood there staring at me blankly.

"Dad!" I jumped up, putting my arms behind my back, and tried to look straight faced and normal.

"What were you doing hitting yourself?" he asked me in a stern voice.

"What? What the hell are you talking about? How dare you accuse me of hurting myself. Just go away. Leave me alone!" I screamed as I pushed past him and ran down the stairs.

"Annalyn!" He ran after me and I felt his harsh grip tighten around my bicep as I reached for the front door.

"Stop it! Let go of me!" I cried as a rush of tears streamed down my face.

"No. What were you doing? Tell me now."

"Why are you like this? You were so understanding before. For awhile anyways. And now you are back to the scary man who never understands anything. You scare me. That's right, I said it! I'm scared of you. Now leave me the hell alone!" I could hear my shrill voice echoing through my head as my thoughts chattered away about how screwed up I am making this for myself. I can never go home. That's what I thought. I can never go home now. I have to get out of there. Get out of there. Get out! Now!

"Annalyn," he said a little quieter. He looked at me stunned, his eyes wide and painful, and I realized he didn't know what to say. I jerked my arm out of his grip and ran out the door as fast as I could. "Annalyn, wait!" His voice chased me.

I didn't look back. I kept running. I took some short cuts through people's yards and around fences and through alleys and just kept running for my life. Eventually I reached the park and stumbled onto the grass out of breath. I looked around. He wasn't anywhere. I heaved for breath... choked and gasped... coughed and finally I started to breathe steadily again. I took in several deep breaths and slowly let them out. My chest had been racing but now the beating was starting to slow. I felt dizzy and I lay back on the grass, still soaking wet from the rain, which had stopped at least.

I lay there and scrunched my eyes tight. My head was swimming, floating around and feeling like it was bobbing up and down. A swarm of bees came in the form of thoughts. One by one, they buzzed in my brain. Thoughts about this and that, about my father—what he would do to me if I ever returned? I had really messed things up this time and now my life was in danger. What could I do? Where would I go? I needed some peace! Mom—what would she think if I never came back? But Dad. I couldn't come back. He'd kill me. I told him off. I told him off! I was in trouble. I was in life-threatening danger. Maybe Lexie could help me. But no. Because she was conspiring with them. She was on their side now and she'd tell them the minute I came to her. I didn't know what to do. What could I possibly do now? I was screwed. No one to turn to. Lydia hated me. I killed her sister according to her. It was my fault Janey died. I screwed everything up. I wanted to die. They wanted me to die. Everyone wanted me to die. Janey wanted me to die. I would have to die. Her ghost would find a way to kill me and she would make it so torturous. I deserved to die. Shuddup! Shuddup! Shuddup! I need some peace!

Breathe. Just breathe in. Steadily. It's your fault she died. It's your fault. You killed her. She stabbed herself and it was your entire fault. She's dead. She's dead. Gone. Rotting in the dirt. You fucked her over so bad, you little witch! Shuddup! Shuddup! I didn't even know if those were my thoughts or people yelling at me inside my head anymore. The thoughts were just too much. Or the voices. The people yelling inside my head. Whatever they were. I couldn't take it. Peace! I need some peace!

Tears streamed down my hot face and I started to pant and heave and struggled for breath. I was going to die from insanity if I didn't find some peace then and there. And then it hit me. Peace—where I'd find it. I knew where to find it. I remembered. I was twelve and I almost drown and when I stopped struggling, there was so much peace. The water. That's where I'd find peace.

I got up off the grass and started walking. There was a small lake in the middle of this woodsy park. No one swam in it. Some people fished in it. I walked steadily towards it, stomping through the wet grass in my soaking slippers, burgundy against my fully black outfit. I was on a mission and I knew exactly what I had to do. I walked down the path through the trees and saw the water bathing in a rainy mist. As I cleared the trees, I realized it was raining again. I looked at the grey surface that reflected the grey sky and watched as the rain tit tatted on the surface. I walked along the path until I reached the dock. It was slippery. I walked briskly across it to the end and stood there staring at the water. It was dark, muddy looking. Suddenly I didn't know what I was doing anymore. I was standing on the edge of a dock in the middle of an autumn storm. It was freezing out. I... I ... just wanted some peace and the minute I got to this place, I knew this isn't where peace was. I sat down cross legged on the dock and sobbed. My face fell to my hands and I cried. I was lost.

Epilogue

This is it, the here, the now, the end of the story or the beginning of something else. I don't know what it is. I'm so tired and I just need to know how this all happened because I can't wrap my brain around it. How did my life come to this desperate point? I ask this as tears stream down my face. I ask this after hours of beating on my arms, after days of red marks piling on top of bruises that are layering on top of each other. How the hell did this all happen! Please, someone tell me. Please please please put my mind to rest, give me an answer, a solution, something! How did I go from being this normal girl going to university and starting her adult life to being this insane person, this person whose depressing horrible self has hurt everyone around her? My sister killed herself. How could... how... why... so many horrible questions echoing in my mind. I'm overwhelmed. I'm exhausted. I don't think I can take this anymore. I can't think clearly anymore. I've gone through it all. All the events. I've laid them out in front of me, all the details. Now someone just tell me how the hell it all came to this point!

I'm sitting here wondering the answer to every question in my brain and it just hurts so much. A knife stabbing my guts—that's how much it hurts. Funny, that's how my sister killed herself. I feel like my guts are being stabbed and that is exactly how my sister ended her life! How twisted and stupid and just wrong is that?

I'm sitting here and I can't take the pain. I'm sitting here and I can't stand the crying anymore. I can't do this anymore. I can't breathe anymore. I'm gasping for air. The room is spinning and I am dizzy and my heart is beating so fast I feel like I am going to die. I can't breathe. Oh seriously, what happened in my life? Breathe. Breathe. I am telling myself to breathe. My hands are trembling. I bring them up to my face and my whole body shudders, cold chills down my spine, goose bumps all over my flesh. I look down at my arms and see them bruised and red. I've been doing it again. Hitting myself. And it's not enough anymore. Next to me is something better. Something worse. Something sharper than fists. It's been here all along and I never even thought of it before a few minutes ago. I put it on the night table beside me and I've been eyeing it ever since. A little pushpin. It's green on the end. There was a red one too, but that just seemed too... I don't know. Sick and twisted. Maybe it's all sick and twisted.

I take the pushpin in between my thumb and forefinger and let the sharp point touch the skin of my bruised up arm. I feel a chill run down my arms. I push a little harder. It scratches, but doesn't bleed. I feel a surge, a rush and suddenly I take that pushpin and strike it, like a match, against my skin. Owe! Shit, that hurts! That stings. But it's good. I like it. My skin stings and my whole arm aches. I look at my left arm to see a red scratch across it, about an inch and a half across. It's filling with blood. Not enough to trickle down away from the wound, but enough to fill it and make a bright red scratch. It's like little beads of dark blood coloring in a line. I touch it with my finger tip, smear the blood around a bit. I'm fascinated by it. It's such a beautiful rich colour. I want more of it.

Scratch. Stinging. Beads of blood. Fascination.

I'm breathing steadily. I feel like life is breathing into me again. I feel again. I feel pain but I also feel and it's better than that sorrow-filled death feeling I've had for so long. I feel... it's intense... it's a thrill. I like it. I like how I feel. It's like endorphins are pumping through me. I do it again and again. Strike on skin. Red against the flesh of my useless existence. I'm alive! There's blood, There's proof! I'm alive.

I look up and as I do, I unintentionally glance at a picture of me and Janey on my bulletin board. It's hanging crooked because I took the pushpin that was holding up the right side of it. She's smiling. She's happy. She's bright-eyed and cheery. Oh and I love her so much. Oh, I miss her so much. What am I doing? I start to cry. I break down and sob into my hands as my whole body heaves and shakes and my hands start to tremble again. This is why she left. This is why she died. It all started with blood. My blood. What the hell have I done! The knife-stabbing-into-my-guts-feeling is back and I cringe and continue sobbing. The door opens.

"Mom!" I gasp as I see her standing there open-mouthed and wide-eyed at me.

"What are you doing?" she cries. Her face is so red and teary that it makes me cry even harder.

"Don't tell Dad. Please, Mom. I'm sorry. I'll stop." I plead with her but she keeps on crying and soon I hear the stomping up the stairs. Here it comes.

"What did you do this time!" I look and it isn't him, but Lydia.

"What are you doing here?" I ask her, my mouth erupting with my contempt for her.

I sniffle and wipe my nose. And then I notice the smears of blood on my comforter. Shame etches into me. I grab a tissue and wipe the blood off my arm while they gawk at me and bicker with each other and I'm not even listening to them anymore.

"I'll talk to her," I hear Lydia's voice. Mom disappears from the doorway.

I lick my finger tips and try to rub off the rest of the blood from my skin. She abruptly grabs the tissue from me. I grab another one and ignore her.

"What the hell do you think you are doing! Didn't our sister killing herself over your misery not teach you anything!" Lydia says, her harsh voice jabbing into my ears.

"Leave me the hell alone," I yell as I stare at my own blood.

"Did you not see Mom's face? Did you not see the pain on it? She was crying. You made her cry. You've hurt her so much over the last couple months and you don't even care. How dare you do that to her. To Janey. How dare you!" Her words stab into me and make my heart feel like it's in a cinch. I sniffle and stare at my arm some more, red and bruised and now with four scratches across it.

"Leave me alone."

"Don't you care about any of us. Maybe you are the one who should have died. I lost my sister because of you! She was innocent and young and you stole that from her!"

I can't breathe again. I try to suck air in. I am being smothered by an invisible force. I shudder and gasp for air.

"Don't you care!" Lydia screams shrill in my face as she grabs my bicep and shakes me hard. "Look at me!"

"No! Go the hell away. You think I don't care? I care. Now leave me the hell alone!" I cry.

"Go to hell, Annalyn!" She screams at me and leaves, slamming the door shut. Bang. It echoes into my brain. Like a gun going off in my ear. Bang. Maybe I should be gone. Bang. Bang bang bang. I can't take this anymore. Bang bang bang. Go to hell Annalyn. Yeah. Bang. Bang. Bang. I'm so lost. My family hates me. They blame me for my sister's death. I'm so lost that nothing makes sense anymore. I can't take the screaming inside my head anymore. I can't take anything anymore. Bang. Bang. Take away the pain. Slam and it's gone. Can't it be so easy?

I leave my house. I escape them, their anger and their hatred of me. They think I killed her with my words, with my darkness. They abandon me now. And it doesn't matter because I am abandoning myself right now. Checking out. It doesn't matter anymore. Just get me the hell out of this life. Get me out of here. Get me out! I need out! Now! It's gotta be now! Let me go! Let me.... leme...leme...leme.... it has to end.... it has to stop.... the voices are screaming in my head. "You're a bad girl and she's dead because of you, because of what you did to her. You killed her. You hurt her. She's dead because of you. You're bad. You're evil. Just kill yourself now. End it now. End the pain. She's in hell because of you. Free her by freeing yourself. Just do it now! Do it now! Now! Now! Now!"

"Shut up!" I scream. "Shut up! Go the hell away!" Shrill voice. I can hear the shrill down into my soul. I am itching to end it anyways. I need to get out. Now! Now! Now! Leme leme leme.... Oh God! Just let it end now!

"You're going to die. Die now! Die now! Do it. Follow the light. It will save you. It will soothe you. Go to the light. Do it now! Do it now! Die! Die! Die!" the voices taunt.

"Shut up! Shut up shuddup... shuddup... shuddup..." I scream aloud.

Somehow I'm on the ground and it's the dead of night and I'm sitting here on the side of some road collapsed to my knees and crying. I'm here ready to die and I just gotta know how. How do I do it? Peace. Peace. I need some peace. Quiet. Calm. Make the voices go away. Make the pain go away. I am in so much pain. Her death killed me and I am not alive anymore to go on. I have to leave here now! Now! Now! Just let me out of here now! God! Now! Save me, God! Save me from this!

I'm pushing myself off the ground, walking forward down the street, brisk. Fast. I'm running now. My heart is pounding. I gotta find a way. I need out of here. God just give me a sign for where to go, how to do it. I am in panic and I can't think straight and I just know my brain isn't working anymore. It has to stop now! Stop Stop Stop! Oh God, just stop it all! Oh, God. What do I do anymore? Oh God oh god oh god. Somebody please just save me! Let me die and save me from this hell!

I'm running.... fast as I can go, heart beating fast. Breathing hard and deep and fast. Get that breath in there. Go! Go! Go! Find it!

I'm running... I'm running... away... far away far away....

What else is there to do.... just run....

I'm at the park. I'm at the cliff. I'm looking beyond the cliff. I could jump here, but... no... I see it. I see where to go. I know what to do. I know... I know. And now I feel calm because I know. Run run run... over to the path and down. Winding around, through the trees in this moonless night. It's all darkness from here to the end. And I can do it. I can do it now because I have to. I have to! Have to have to have to... I've never felt such adrenalin going through all of my body. My entire body is high on a rush and I know exactly what to do. Run... run... run down the path... run closer... closer to the end...

I'm here. I'm out of breath and it doesn't matter at all. I don't need my breath for much longer. I am here. I am here. Stand. Stand tall. Wait for it, for the calm to come. I am here. It will be so peaceful. It will be so silent and quiet. Hushing silence. Hushing the nerves. Hushing the emotional turmoil. Hush my head and the voices and the bad thoughts. Hush the pain. Hush. Hush hush hush.

The ground is rumbling now. Vibrations that edge deep into my soul. Wait for it. It's coming closer. Tremors below me. My hands are trembling, my body quivering, but just as much for excitement as the adrenalin is making me crazy. And the voices screaming in my head.

"You are worth nothing. Death is all you are worth. She died because of you. She killed herself because of you. You are going to die now. Die now! You must die! Go to hell!"

"I don't believe you!" I scream.

This is my calm. My savior. My whole body is shaking now as I stand there between the parallel lines of metal that lead to my death. It's the end. The end is near. And if only she hadn't died. It wouldn't have to be this way. God, I loved her so much. God, I deserve this end so badly because I killed my sister when she jabbed that knife into her stomach and bleed to death alone. It was me who did it! I didn't have to stab her to be the one. I was the one so badly and she died because of me. Tears are streaming down my warm face. It feels hot red as I stand here. I'm scared. I'm terrified. My heart feels like it's skipping every second beat. Fluttering in chest. Trembling in legs of jelly and fingers that can't stop dangling beside me. Oh God! Here it comes.

Flash of light. Big bold beautiful light. It's my path to heaven. It's the path to my peace. To her peace. We'll be together in heaven and we'll reconcile there. They will be rid of me, they can be rid of their hatred of me, the burden of me, the sick bastard I am. It's all gonna end.

Rumbling at my feet. Light flooding into my eyes, bathing my whole body. Whistling angrily ahead of me, it's telling me to move but I'm not gonna move out of the way. This is it. This is my savior. My savior! Come! Come! Come!

"You're bad. You're going to hell now!" voices scream inside my head.

"I don't believe you. I'm going to be with her once again, finally. Together."

It's coming! It's coming! Oh shit, is it ever coming! Heart too fast. Can't think anymore. Breathing fast. Everything is fast. Here it comes! Train. Screeching in my ears, metal scraping on metal, whistle blowing furiously. My ears hurt from it and it doesn't matter. I am screaming as it comes, its wind blowing in my face, light blinding me, "This is my end! This is my peace! This is my....Oh shit!"

Hands in front of face, cringe, shrill scream... "Oh shit.... Ahhh—"

###

About the Author:

Lindsey Webster graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and endeavored to get another degree in mental health in accordance with her passion for mental health and for the darker side of life that encompasses mental illness, disorder, abuse, trauma and anything else that challenges the soul. Her writing explores this world and has been inspired by her own struggles with darkness, disorder, and chaos. Her novel, Entangled in Darkness, delves into the breath of bipolar disorder and a family's struggle with mental illness. Her other passions include writing poetry and journaling. She lives with her many pets in Canada and continues her work in mental health and continues to write—now under the pen name Michelle Webster.

Connect with her online:

Author Website: http://michellewebsterauthor.com

Facebook Page: http://facebook.com/mlwebsterauthor

Twitter: http://twitter.com/MLWebsterAuthor

