The bedspread feels soft under my body, which is racked with tears. Loud sobs escape from my mouth, I sound helpless, pathetic, I know I do. The door to my room swings open suddenly and I look up shame faced.
My mother dashes in, a worried look on my face. �What�s wrong? What�s wrong?� her voice competes against my crying.
I shake my head. All I can do is cry. I want her to get out of my room, leave me alone, but she refuses to cooperate. �I�m staying until you settle down,� she insists.
My tears eventually dry up and my breathing returns to normal. My mother, at 41 years of age, looks at me, her brunette hair cut similarly to my blond sliding in her face. �Your friend called. Michelle I think it was.�
My eyes widen. Michelle knew about my secret. She would know why I was crying. But my mom wouldn�t. My dad wouldn�t either. I never see him. Always working, he says. I know he�s been having an affair. But he still lies.
�Why didn�t you tell me honey?� my mom asks confused. She never refers to her and Dad as a couple; it�s either �me� or �him�. Never �us� or �we�.
I look away, enraged, upset, and spiteful. How could she do this to me! She cares, I know, but if I wanted help I�d ask. Go and talk to my mother behind my back. I looked my mother in her soft brown eyes.
�You and Dad would hate me.�
�No, Jan, we wouldn�t,� my mom said. She was lying, I knew it. I just knew it.
�NO!� I shouted clutching my head. �You would hate me. You would. I�m a failure. The firstborn washes up again!�
My mother looked at me with shock in her eyes. �We love you Jan, you know we do. Your father may not be around enough to show it, but he proves it by going out to work everyday and earning extra so you can get what you want. He works hard for us and don�t forget it.�
I couldn�t believe a word she said. My father was a liar. A cheater. A devil. How was it that my mother could still love him? �Mom, get with the times. Have you seen a paycheck with extra money for us on it from dad�s �overtime?� He�s not working, he�s having an affair!�
*****
Life didn�t quite return to normal after that day. My mother didn�t believe me. She thought I was crazy. She even brought my dad home from work to tell him that. Should have seen the look on his face.
I�m not mad at Michelle, I understand why she told. She spoke to me the next day in school and asked if I�d gotten help. Sadly I told her no, and that my parents would probably get a divorce.
I still cry a lot. It is helpful when I don�t want to hurt myself. That�s what I used to do. I had a pocketknife, a little blue pocketknife, and I�d just scratch my arm with it. That�s all it was, a few scratches. At first that is. Later though, when times were really hard for me, they were deeper cuts.
Michelle knew the truth, as did my other friends. But only those people and no one else. My parents couldn�t know, they would have killed me. But they didn�t kill me, yet anyway.
School was hard and depressing. With each bad grade I received I felt even worse. I tried cheering myself up, but it was hopeless. I was falling back into the trap that my old friend depression had left for me.
*****
The walls are white in the lawyer�s office. Mr. Goldman, my mom�s lawyer, a nice fellow, is reading me the terms of the divorce. I let my thoughts drift slightly. I don�t want to be here, but I have to agree to the custody terms. I�ll agree anyway, I really don�t care. As long as Mom doesn�t move to far away I�ll be fine.
�Do you agree to these terms?� Mr. Goldman asked me sweetly.
�Uh, um, where did Mom say she�d live after this?� I asked for a recap.
�Not to far from your high school. When you stay with her you won�t even have to catch the bus.� Mr. Goldman smiled. It was a far away smile.
�Okay, I agree. Whatever.� I slumped back into my chair wondering if this would ever end.
�Sign here.� I signed. I don�t remember if I even signed my own name, I must have, or if I signed on the right line, but I do remember hearing Mr. Goldman say, �There is one other thing. You will need to see a psychologist. Court standards.�
Great. I wind up going to a shrink anyway. I didn�t even have to ask help.
�Oh wait, you�re over 16 aren�t you.� I nodded. �Ok, you don�t have to then, only your brother.�
I allowed myself a little smirk. Sean would just love that.
That night I holed myself up in my room, refusing to speak with anyone except my friend Hailey on the phone. Erin, our other friend, was over at her house, spending the night. I go to a different high school than them, so I don't get to see much of them.
We talked about my parents, me, my condition, them, me again, and finally, my condition again. I was so sick of it. Why had I told everyone the truth in the first place? If no one knew then I wouldn�t be bothered with all their questions. Oh well. You brought this upon yourself, deal with it. I told them I was trying to get help, that Michelle had told my Mom, and that Mom had seemingly forgotten about it. Dad was too busy with his young redhead to care what went on at home.
We hung up and my heart ached for love and understanding. But who could I turn to. Evidently no one. My friends were all sick of hearing me talk about suicide; they no longer offered simple suggestions. Now it was, go to a psychologist. You need to talk to someone. I know. I know. Everyone I know that knows has told me that. I�m sick of it. I just want a little love.
*****
The last few weeks have been difficult. Mom and Dad settled their divorce in court, Sean went to the psychologist for any problems that might arise from the split, and I struggled through my schoolwork, barely making passing grades.
The last straw came at my Dad�s house however. He was gone, out with the redhead who had now moved in, and Sean was out with friends. I was alone, sulking. Earlier that evening �Tina�, the redhead, and I had gotten into a fight. She insulted my mother by calling her a �cheap slut that never deserved my father� and I punched her in the jaw. I hoped it left a bruise so she could be embarrassed in front of all her fancy colleagues.
I flopped down on a kitchen stool thinking of the lecture Dad had given to me. Of course Tina had lied and said it was all me, not her. She didn�t do anything. �Have some respect for Tina, she�s new to our lifestyle and we�ll just have to adjust to meet her needs. If you hit her again I�ll have you taken to the police station.� My thoughts were interrupted by the jangling of the telephone.
�Hello?� I tried to sound as perky as possible.
The next few minutes were Hell as I discovered my mother had killed herself. An overdose of sleeping pills prediction for cause of death. The officer on the phone was dull and listless as he informed me of her death. I was stunned. I was the one with the problems. Didn�t she care about her kids? How could she leave me with Dad, all by myself at 16? I have no one to talk to, no one to turn to for advice. I was extremely angry at her, even though she didn�t deserve it.
I hung up on the officer and dashed to my room, screaming and crying. A gym bag lay open on my bed. It was full of clothes, books, my diary, and my few personal belongings. A note lay on top of it. �Surprise honey! We�ve decided that you deserve a better house than this one, so we�re sending you to boarding school for the remainder of the school year. Love, Tina and Dad.� If my mother�s death hadn�t sent me off the edge, this did. I wanted to kill Tina. I wanted to kill myself. Hate, anger and rage coursed through my blood and my breathing quickened. I didn�t notice it, but tears were leaking from my face like water from a leaky tap.
I tore the note up, grabbed the gym bag, my wallet, coat and shoes, and ran out of the front door, not looking back.
I ran for a long time, my clothes catching on protruding branches, ripping them up like paper being torn. I somehow wound up in Michelle�s neighborhood, in front of her house. I walked by it and her, not realizing where I was. She was me, rushed across her driveway, and grabbed my shoulder. �Where do you think you�re going?� she cried. �You better not be running away. I have to call your parents now you know.� Michelle looked at me sternly, her curly brown hair bouncing as she spoke.
�They don�t care!� I sobbed. �They don�t.� I collapsed on her front lawn and she embraced me as a broke down.
�Sure they do sweetie, sure they do.� Michelle�s voice was soothing, but I didn�t stop crying.
�My Mom just killed herself. My Dad and that witch are sending me to boarding school for the rest of the year. See this bag,� I thrust my gym bag at her. �They had this all packed for me, ready to go. They love me all right.�
*****
I don�t remember blacking out. Or going to the hospital where they sedated me. I don�t remember my friends coming and talking to me, although I know they did. I only remember bleakness running all over me. My Dad and Tina never showed up at the hospital, they had left the country. The boarding school was supposed to pick me the night I ran. Sean too.
Michelle told me over and over again that I was welcome to stay with her and that she felt part of my pain. Her Dad killed himself too a while back. �It�s just part of life, losing loved ones and gaining new ones,� she said.
I don�t know if she�s right. I don�t know anything anymore. As I lay here in the hospital bed with machines hooked up to me I wonder. And my head hurts again. It throbs and I want to die. But Michelle won�t let me. I have to be strong for Sean.
I learned that we were both being put up for adoption when I was better. That put me back again. I didn�t want to live in a house with people, I only wanted to be alone. But Hailey, Erin, and Michelle were there for me. They reassured me that Sean and I would stay together, and they always did want me as a sister.
*****
A long time passed before I was released from the hospital. Autumn had become winter and Christmas was right around the corner. I shuddered thinking about past Christmases with my family, but this year I had a new experience to look forward to. My new family wouldn�t let me go through any of that pain again. Of course Michelle�s family took me in, and Sean�s friend David let him stay with him until my grandmother came down to pick him up. Sean didn�t want to stay in Delaware without our Dad or Mom. So he moved up to Toronto, leaving me alone.
I didn�t mind. I still hear from him. Very often actually. A week after Christmas a card arrived at the boarding school where I was supposed to be staying. It was a check from my Dad for my birthday, which was in a month, and Christmas. He still didn�t know what had happened. I his short letter over and threw it in the trash. I had a future to look forward to, and he wasn�t a part of it.
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