C A R O L I N E
The hug and tears had helped, but only in the moment. Now I was scared of my mother finding out. I didn't know how, or why, yet I felt like she would. I felt like she was always watching. I had waited alone in the classroom longer than I should have.
As I turned the corner towards my house, praying she wouldn't be home yet, I saw her car in the driveway and felt dread settle in my stomach.
Fantastic.
I turned the knob, opened the front door, and walked in. I headed for the stair, trying to escape as quickly as possible, but failed.
She appeared in the archway to the living room, startling me. "Coralina Evelyn Rosewood, don't you dare. Come here."
I repressed a sigh and followed her into the living room.
She picked up the home phone that had been off the hook and brought it to her ear, not taking her eyes off me. "She's not available at the moment, she's feeling ill." And she hung up.
"Who was the boy calling you? Is he your boyfriend!? You know you're not allowed to have friends, let alone a boyfriend. You're a fucking disgrace, you can't even do anything right. Go to your room, you're grounded."
As if I wasn't already.
"And don't you dare say a word! If you speak, I will cut that tongue out of your mouth."
I turned and walked up the stairs, almost robotically, not feeling a thing. Just as I got to the top, I heard her yell. "And don't you even think about eating anything tomorrow either!"
I felt tears prick my eyes but blinked them away as I closed my bedroom door behind me. I would lock it, but I wasn't allowed to.
I walked over to a specific floorboard in the corner of the room and, after taking a second to make sure she wasn't following me, lifted it and quickly grabbed a granola bar, eating it in as fast as I could. The wrapper was back in the hole with the floorboard covering it in ten seconds flat.
I sat back, clutching my cramping stomach. I barely ate enough to survive, I couldn't let my mother realize what I was doing.
Does she not realize I should be dead by now?
The next morning was a blur, if not déjà-vu of yesterday's happenings. Mornings were all the same: I cooked breakfast for my mother, she rejected it, and I went to school, but not before doing a few chores and staring at my starving body in the mirror for a minute or two.
I hummed under my breath as I walked to school to the beat of another song I had heard on the radio, while desperately trying not to let my thoughts drift to places they shouldn't be.
Once there, I made my way to my locker, hood up. Aimée was standing next to it with her friends, acting as if she weren't waiting for me to arrive. I repressed a sigh and approached her.
"Oh, looked like the sad, ugly freak has arrived... Poor me," she sighed, anger lacing her voice.
Ugly? You're so ugly Hello Kitty said goodbye to you.
What?
"Awe, poor mute bitch. Guess your mama doesn't really love you if she didn't kill you in your sleep."
...That didn't make any sense, but okay.
She rolled her eyes, clearly getting bored. "I bet you can't even think of a reply, princess."
You sure? 'Cause I think I heard on the news that when your mom dropped you off at school the other day, she got a fine for littering.
Ohhh yes, I went there.
"Well, I've got to go see my boyfriend. Catch you later, freak."
Awe, leaving so soon? I was just about to poison the tea.
I watched her walk away, a small smirk on my face. That was fun.
Finally.
It was during the last break before the end of the day, and I was heading to music class when I bumped into someone.
I looked up to see the same guy who has told me class was starting the other day. Jason, maybe? He had an eyebrow raised, and a smile on his face as he looked down at me.
"Sorry about that," he said, but didn't really seem to mean it, too busy watching for my reaction.
I slowly looked away from him and to the guy standing next to him, who I recognized from yesterday after school. He was the guy who had hugged me.
He smiled at me too, but less intently than the other. "Hey, Caroline."
Jasper startled a bit at that and glanced at him. "You two know each other?"
The brown-haired one shook his head. "She was still in class when I went back to get your book." He paused before stepping forward, extending his hand. "I haven't formally introduced myself. Hello, my name is Gorden with an 'e'. No, I am not a chef with anger issues, and please don't call me 'Gord'."
I raised my eyebrow and shook his hand slowly, surprised at the coincidence. Just as Jasper started to say something, clearly about to ask if I wanted to join them, I raised my hand in a wave before pushing past them, knocking both their shoulders as I speed-walked away, staring down at my feet. The way he was looking at me made me uncomfortable.
"Hey, wait!"
"No, Jass. Let her go," I heard Gorden tell him.
"Bu—"
"No."
Thank you, Gorden. I owe you one.
Nothing major happened in music class, except for the fact that I didn't glance up from the piano even once. I just sat in the corner by myself. Mr. Kyle had tried to talk to me, but I had ignored him. He had eventually given up and walked away.
When Jasper and Gorden had walked in, the former had looked at me worriedly, but the latter held him back, murmuring something to him I couldn't understand.
Everyone left me alone, and for that, I was grateful. I didn't even know why I was feeling this way; I just was.
Who would even care, anyway?
And after being like this for so long, one was bound to get used to it.
When I finally got to my locker, I leaned against it, letting it support my weight. It hurt to breathe, and with every breath I took, I was reminded of what had just happened, no matter how much I tried to put it out of my mind.
Aimée had cornered me, thrown me up against the lockers, let me slide to the floor, and had proceeded to kick me in the stomach all whilst threatening me to 'stay away' from her boyfriend.
I didn't even know who her boyfriend was. What the hell was I supposed to do?
Everything hurt, and not just physically. I was tired, so tired. But I sucked it up.
What else can I do?
Why should I even bother?
When I opened my locker door, a folded-up note fell to the floor. I bent down— with some difficulty— to pick it up. I stuffed it in my bag, not wanting to deal with it at the moment. I didn't want to be the butt of some stupid joke or prank right now; I was in enough pain.
I grabbed my stuff and walked home, trying to keep the tears from spilling over because every step I took was agony, though the pain was slowly dying down. Thankfully, my mother wasn't home, so I headed straight to my room.
"You're not worth anything."
"You take up too much space, you're so fat."
"No one cares about you, and they shouldn't."
"You're so fat."
"You treat me like I'm worthless."
"Like I mean nothing to you."
"You mean nothing to me."
"Worthless."
"Useless."
"Throw it out."
"Daddy's little girl..."
"Your mom is right."
"He killed himself because he hated you."
"He hated you."
"He's gone because of you."
The words my mother has told me melted together with Aimée's, melting and melting until all I could hear was the shit I told myself.
They just kept coming, spinning around and around and around in my head with no break, no silence, no mercy. It melted me, melted my hands, my lungs, my heart, until all I could feel was hot and cold, hot and cold, I couldn't breathe—
Stumbling to the bathroom, I closed and locked the door behind me, leaning over the counter and gripping its edges, my knuckles turning white. My chest heaved, trying to breathe, and the pain in my stomach from earlier only fueled my panic.
I looked up, locking eyes with the girl in the mirror. I didn't recognize her. She was a victim. I was not. I was hurting other people, and she was being hurt by them— Seth, Aimée, her mother...
I used my friends, demanded they help me whenever I needed, whilst I wouldn't even lift a finger for them. I never opened up about myself, expecting others to love me and worship me, and they did. For a while. I deserved the hatred. She did not.
I deserved the hatred.
I deserve the hatred.
Without thinking of the consequences, I opened the drawer and pulled out a small pencil sharpener.
Every horrible thing about me slowly became more obvious as I started to take the blade out, using my nails to twist the tiny screws.
I looked up at the girl in the mirror and felt tears come to my eyes again, but this time, in anger; she was a good person, undeserving of everything being done to her.
I couldn't let her take over me. I deserved this. I was a horrible person.
I couldn't take it. Everything started expanding inside me, filling me, with no way to get out. I started hyperventilating, unable to take it, nearly falling to my knees.
The instant I made the decision, everything shrank in less than a second.
I had razor sharp focus, and I knew what I had to do.
I pressed the blade against the soft skin of my wrist and planned to cut deep.
J A S P E R
"Oy dumbass, toss the rock already!"
I snapped out of my thoughts and quickly tossed the rock into one of the squares, watching as my best friend started hopping through the mess of chalked squares to get to it. I chuckled a bit at him, feeling much more light-hearted than earlier.
"I got it!" he exclaimed, pounding his chest and getting himself hyped up.
I grinned. "I don't know anyone else who would get this excited over hopscotch."
He frowned at me. "It's how I practice my balance, okay?"
I shrugged. "Whatever you say."
C A R O L I N E
My hand wouldn't move.
And in that split second it took for my hand to unfreeze, one rational thought popped up.
The letter.
The one I had found in my locker.
I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing.
If the note is something cruel, I'll do it. I will, and no one will stop me. No one will care.
I took one last deep breath before dropping the blade onto the counter and returning to my room to search my bag for the letter. Once I found it, I opened it almost robotically.
'Breathe. You're going to be okay. Breathe and remember that you've been in this place before. You've been this uncomfortable and anxious and scared, and you've survived. Breathe and know that you can survive this too. These feelings can't break you. They're painful and debilitating, but you can sit with them and eventually, they will pass. Maybe not immediately, but sometime soon, they are going to fade and when they do, you'll look back at this moment and laugh for having doubted your resilience. I know it feels unbearable right now, but keep breathing, again and again. This will pass. I promise it will pass.
Please don't give up, Caroline. I care. Don't ever forget that someone cares."
I brought my hand to my mouth as a sob escaped my lips. I could feel dampness on my cheeks.
I'm crying.
I clutched the letter to my chest, curled into a ball, and cried.
I cried just like I had yesterday. I didn't even know who gave me this letter, but it felt amazing. It felt amazing to know that someone cared.
But who?
After around an hour of slowly pulling myself together, I stood up, wiped the tears from my face, squared my shoulders, and walked back into the bathroom.
Once inside, I picked up the old blade and held it in my hand.
Not today.
I opened the drawer, placed the blade inside, and closed it, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off my chest. Nonetheless, my shoulders slumped as I walked back into my room. Getting undressed, I got into bed and fell into a restless sleep.
The next day, thankfully, Aimée was absent.
The whole day passed pretty uneventfully. I didn't have a music class that day and I kept my head down, so I didn't run into Jasper or Gorden.
After last period, when I opened my locker, there was a note. I opened it immediately with only a second of hesitation.
'I really hope you had a nice day.'
I felt a mix of emotions, some I could pinpoint and some I couldn't. Worry, confusion, joy, distrust, fear, gratitude...
Bittersweet relief.
They had saved my life and they didn't even know it.
Maybe someone does care.
Before I let myself overthink the entire situation, I slung my bag over my shoulder, shut my locker and made my way towards the exit.
U N K N O W N
As I walked out of class, I quickly made my way towards Caroline's locker with the note in my hand. I sneakily slipped it into the vents of her locker, making sure it stayed folded, then backed away and let myself blend into the crowd of students as I watched her approach.
I leaned against a locker down the hallway from hers and played with my hair, trying not to start bouncing my leg. Watching as she bent to pick up the note that had fallen to the floor, I smiled when she opened it immediately instead of waiting like last time. I was worried she had forgotten about it.
Guess not.
I grinned when she smiled, honestly relieved I could still make my old friend happy.
C A R O L I N E
The next day, I got a letter in the morning instead of at the end of the day.
'Perfect by P!nk. Please listen to that song.'
I narrowed my eyes, realizing the handwriting seemed achingly familiar, but I hadn't seen it in a long time.
Who the hell is this?
I folded the letter and tucked it into my pocket, confused as to why they wants me to listen to it.
I checked my watch. I had 15 minutes before class started.
I have time to check it out.
I made my way to the library and settled at a computer, then logged in and found the song.
I didn't want to see the video, so I chose the lyric video instead.
Tears threatened to pour, causing my vision to blur halfway through the song, making it hard to read the lyrics, but I could hear them loud and clear.
I listened to the song over and over, as many times as I could, memorizing the notes, keys, and melodies I had long since taught myself to recognize.
After school, I arrived home to an empty driveway.
I really hope it stays that way.
No, you don't. You love your mother.
But she treats me badly.
Because you're just an insolent child.
I sighed to myself, my shoulders slumping. When I got to the front door, I searched my bag for my keys, but couldn't find them.
Shit, I forgot them inside.
I sighed once more, momentarily squeezing my eyes shut before bracing myself. I slowly lifted the potted plant to the left of the door, praying my mother had left the spare key there.
Instead, I found a note.
I picked it up and read it, a sinking feeling making its home in the pit of my stomach.
'You stupid girl. Did you really think I'd just leave the spare key here, when I knew you had forgotten your own? Well, you were wrong. These backup keys are for me, not you. You deserve to sit outside and wait until I get home.'
Now I really wished the driveway wasn't empty.
I tried to think clearly, but I had never been more aware of the cold. I tried to tell myself she was wrong, that I should be inside, warm, taking care of myself. Not outside in the 10 below zero temperature.
I willed myself not to cry. The tears would only turn to icicles.
For roughly three hours, I watched as my breath turned to fog, as my uncovered fingers turned numb, and as the sun went down, bringing even more of a chill to the already freezing cold air.
Finally, my mother arrived just as the sun disappeared below the horizon.
She walked up to my sitting, hunched over figure and sneered at me before walking straight into the house and locking the door.
"Wha—" I started, frozen lips parted in surprise and confusion.
Just carve my heart straight out of my chest, will you?
I stood up and dusted the light layer of snow off myself.
Folding my arms around myself, I started walking, refusing to freeze to death on my doorstep as the last rays of sunlight disappeared into the night sky.
Sources used:
• Breathe, poem by Daniell Koepk
ns 15.158.61.37da2
