The next few weeks inched by as Gracie got used to being back in school again. She'd spoken to Isaac a few times since he left, and things with the two of them were beginning to get much better. The relationship was growing serious and neither of them noticed it until it became harder and harder to be apart.
Ren� and Taylor seemed to be getting along quite nicely. Gracie often heard him whining to Isaac in the background while they were on the phone, "Ike�I want to talk to Ren�! You've been on the phone for twenty minutes already! Let me talk to her!" At that point Gracie would give in and let Taylor talk to Ren� for a while. She didn't know if Taylor and Ren� were going out or if they were just talking to each other, but she was happy for them either way.
Bob was still hanging around. Ren� convinced Gracie to change her medication and now she was on something that actually worked, but Bob still spoke to her every now and then. Gracie appreciated the company when her sisters were busy and she hadn't spoken to Isaac in a while. He wasn't demanding her to do things, but every now and then he'd ask her to do something to herself and she'd comply because she felt bad. He hadn't done anything dramatic like asking her to kill herself, but she'd done her share of cutting up her body. She did it in places where it wouldn't show and she'd only done it three or four times.
Now that she'd been on her medication for a few weeks, Bob spoke to her less and less and before she knew it he was gone. She began to act normally. She was still paranoid about other people and had become very reclusive. The antidepressant they'd put her on didn't seem to do much because she still felt like crap, the only difference was that she didn't feel Bob's control on her anymore.
The room was dark when Gracie stepped inside. She'd kept the dark curtains over her windows, shutting all the light out and the only light came from the bathroom. She closed her door and walked to the bathroom, flicking the light off then closing the door. She was in another one of her moods. She'd done this a lot the past week�shut out all the light and sit in the darkness. She didn't think much during these times, but the depression had weighed her down like an iron cloak.
She sat in the corner of her room, tears falling down her face every now and then. She pulled her knees to the chest and looked at the only thing she could see in the blackness of the room, her alarm clock. The bright red numbers watched her appreciatively. She knew if it had a mind, it'd be thinking ill of her right now. She could hear it thinking about her. Gracie, you've got nothing to be depressed about. Bob is gone. You're on good terms with you boyfriend and you're family. School is good; you're doing well. Making the honor roll this quarter! Cheer up, dearie. Life could be so much worse.
She wiped a tear from her eye and ran her fingers over a cool piece of metal in her hand. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, she could make out what she was holding. It was her cutter. Her trusty box cutter that she'd used so many times to hurt herself. She'd tried to kill herself with this. She'd given herself hundreds of scars with this.
She didn't know why exactly she had it. She didn't plan on hurting herself, well, maybe she did but she hadn't decided that yet. Bob wasn't even in the picture, he wasn't telling her to do it, he wasn't even subconsciously telling her to do it. She just sort of wanted to. The pain brought a little bit of comfort when she felt so out of control and she didn't know why. It was something she could control. She could control how much pain she gave herself, she controlled how much blood she could deprive herself of�yeah there were other things she could have done to get control in her life, but this was the most familiar one. Cutting herself was a big step in the fear of having the word 'crazy' stamped on her file, and as much as she didn't want that, it was the only thing she knew anymore.
She ran the razor over her fingers, not enough to cut but enough to feel it. She couldn't decide if she'd rather puncture her skin or just stare at the razor in her hand and wait to be caught. Subconsciously she was screaming to be caught with this razor in her hand. She didn't want to kill herself, no, not yet�too much to live for. Well, it really wasn't all that much. Just Isaac. School was a bore. She'd thought so many times about dropping out, but her parents would not approve of that. Her family was her family; she didn't feel any ties to them whatsoever. Sure she was close to her sisters but everything was so messed up with them. They weren't as close as they used to be. As much for her schizophrenia�yeah Bob was gone but who knows when he'd come back. If she skipped a day of the pills she was forced to take he'd be back in an instant.
The sound of her sister's door closing surprised her and she made a cut along her finger. The pain was comforting and she watched the blood rise to the surface and trail down her hand. She raised her hand and the blood continued down her arm until she stopped it at her elbow. As she wiped it away and applied pressure with her handkerchief on her finger, the phone rang. Her head shot up, a fresh set of tears that had been glistening in her eyes falling.
She ignored the ringing until it went away, focusing on her wound. Her handkerchief, the same one she'd had since she started this whole mess, was bloodstained and rather unsanitary, but she'd continued to use it because it was her blood. Tying the handkerchief around her hand, she picked up the razor blade again and began to study it. It really wasn't that interesting, she'd seen it a million times, but there was something intriguing about how it fit next to her skin today.
A knock at the door surprised her and again she sliced her hand open. "Gracie, it's Ike." Gracie made a face and got up, picking up the phone on the other side of the room.
"I got it," she told her sister.
"Okay."
"Hello?" she said, trying her best to sound cheery but her voice was obviously tearstained. Isaac didn't know of her moods, she'd done her best to cover them up when he spoke with her, and until now he'd called her when she was more or less up to speed. Today�today had been a very low point on the roller coaster of her recent life and she wasn't sure if she had the momentum to get back up again.
"Hey sweetie, how are you doing?"
"Oh�I'm all right. Not varying on either extreme, I'm just kind of in the middle of everything." She covered the phone with her handkerchief and let out a tiny sob she'd been holding in for quite a while. He didn't need to know she was crying. "I�I saw you on television the other day. You're a dork."
"But you always knew that, didn't you?" She allowed herself to slightly laugh; he was good at bringing a smile to her face. It didn't help much, though, because in a few moments she was close to sobbing again. "How are you really doing, Gracie?"
"I'm okay."
"I can hear you crying." With that she allowed herself to cry openly. She still put her hand over her mouth so her sisters wouldn�t hear her sobs and crawled into a tight ball in her corner. "Tell me what's wrong."
"I don't know! I'm crying and I don't know why!"
"Gracie, why don't you call your doctor and have him put you on antidepressants? The ones you're on are obviously not working. He'll either put you on a higher dosage or give you something different. You'll feel a lot better and you won't have to worry about crying for no reason."
"Since when have you been so knowledgeable on my condition?" she asked, lightly smiling to herself.
"Oh, I did my homework. It's surprising what you can find on the internet these days." He paused. "Gracie, I just want you better. I want what's best for you because I love you and I want you around forever."
"Honey, I told you not to worry about me. I am better. I'm just a little down sometimes. So I sleep a lot. So I'm sitting in my room at four in the afternoon balled in a corner with all the light shut out. Everyone has their low points. This is my low point."
"That's what you told me two weeks ago when I told you I was worried about. How long is this low point going to last?"
"However long it damn well pleases, all right? Now let's move on. It seems every single time I talk to you we're discussing me and my problems. Get over my problems. Let's move on."
"But, Gracie�"
"No! Either we move on in the conversation or I hang up the phone right now."
"Grace�" She hung up the phone and threw it across the room, feeling herself cry again. Her whole body shook as she emitted low sobs into her hands. She allowed herself to cry for a few minutes, with each breath she felt lower and lower. Finally she stood, her mind on one thing that always had seemed the end to her problems. Quickly she ran into the bathroom and grabbed the key she had in a drawer. She glanced at herself in the mirror. She didn't look like she'd been crying. Except for the tears she had on her face she looked somewhat normal. The family was used to her eyes being as red as they were, so it wouldn't look out of the ordinary. She grabbed a towel and wiped the tears from her face then ran out of the room and down the stairs.
She found the closet and unlocked the door with the key. She began to speak to herself as her hands shook violently and she struggled to open the door. "Isaac can't understand me, my family can't understand me, the only one who could understand me is Bob and they made me get rid of him. Said he was a bad influence. I don't need Bob to influence me. I'm just crazy by myself." She reached on top of the closet in a shoebox and took out the gun her father still hadn't gotten rid of. Even after she tried to kill herself with it, even after she destroyed parts of the house with it, he still kept it in the same place. "Ignorant fool," she continued to whisper to herself. "Doesn't understand he has a suicidal daughter." She took out a bullet and put it in the gun, then put the gun under her shirt and hid it. She closed the door and locked it with the key.
Gracie found her parents talking in the kitchen. Her mother was preparing dinner for the night and her father was at the table reading the parts of the newspaper he hadn't gotten to in the morning. She put a smile on her face and walked over to her mother. She kissed her on the cheek. "I love you, Mom." She walked over to her father. "I love you too, Daddy." She kissed him and walked out of the room before they could ask any questions of her odd behavior.
She bounded up the stairs and knocked on Ren�'s door. She answered the door with the phone to her ear. She'd heard it ring again when she was in the closet and hoped it wasn't Isaac. It turned out to be Taylor calling for Ren�. Gracie hugged her sister. "I love you Ren�, I just thought you should know that." She took the phone from her sister. "Taylor, tell Isaac I love him." She gave the phone back to her sister and walked to Sarah's room. She knocked on the door, smiling at Ren� who only shook her head and walked back into her room. Sarah answered the door. "I love you Sarah."
"I love you too, Gracie," she said and gave her sister a hug. "Now what do I owe this impromptu love session?" Gracie shrugged, keeping the smile on her face. She bounded off to her room and closed the door, not locking it. She opened her curtains and stood in the middle of the room.
"This will show them."
She put the gun in her mouth and fired.
Isaac and Taylor walked into the hotel room a day later and were surprised to find Diana in there, waiting for them. Zac had fallen asleep already and was snoring quietly on the bed. Isaac looked at his watch. They weren't late, were they? No�it was 10:30. Mom said to be back before eleven. They were early. Why was she in here?
"Isaac, I need to speak with you."
"I think I'll get ready for bed," Taylor said and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door so the two could have their privacy.
"What's wrong? You did say eleven, right? I'm not late, am I?" She shook her head. Isaac stepped closer to her. She looked as if she had tears streaming down her face and she refused to look him in the eye. Diana had always looked him in the eye when she spoke to him; she thought it was bad manners when someone didn't. "Mom, what's wrong?"
"I got a call from Susan today." Isaac looked at her skeptically. The name didn't register. "Susan Cole. Gracie's mother." Instant fear welled up inside of Isaac. It had to do with Gracie. He knew Gracie wasn't doing to well lately, but he had a fear of what she might have done to herself. She might have trashed the house again, had to go back to the mental hospital, or the regular hospital, or even�no�Gracie wouldn't try to kill herself again. "I'm sorry, Isaac."
"What happened?"
"Well, Gracie�she�"
"Tell me Goddammit!" Isaac yelled.
"Gracie killed herself."
"What?" he asked quietly, which contradicted his previous outburst.
"She's dead�I'm sorry, honey," Diana said. She reached out a hand to console her son, but he instantly retreated and turned away. Tears rushed to his eyes as a shaky hand pushed his hair away from his face. She tried again to comfort him, saying something he refused to hear, but as he felt her grip on him he pushed her off again and flew out of the room.
He had nowhere to go. He couldn't even think straight so he couldn't just hop in the car and run off somewhere�he'd mostly likely hit something with the car in the midst of all this sudden shock and confusion. He silently hoped Diana wouldn't come out to see if he was all right�the last thing he needed was to have his mother console him when he just found out his girlfriend killed herself.
I should have been there. We were going to be there. We were going to go home and I was going to see her, but we had to prolong it another week so we could fit in another TV appearance, another radio interview�If I had been there she wouldn't have done it. She wouldn't have killed herself. She would have been with me; she wouldn't have time to kill herself. She'd still be alive. I'd be with her right now and I would have been able to tell that something wasn't right. I could have gotten her help before she did anything rash�she's dead�I love her.
He couldn't stop the uncontrollable shaking that took over his body. He felt himself shaking; it was so hard that his eyes couldn't focus on anything. The entire world was bouncing in front of him and his vision was blurred with tears. He wanted to cry, he wanted to cry and scream and shout and kill himself so he could be with her�no, he had too much going for him to do that. But the tears in his eyes refused to show�he couldn't even cry for her.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly; his shock was depriving him of all conscious thought now. It refused to sink in. He kept repeating it over and over again in his head, hoping it would sink in if he said it enough times. It didn't. He didn't want to believe it but in his heart he'd always known it would turn out this way. As much as he had prayed that his girl would be safe and he tried to convince her she was a strong girl and she'd get through her illness, he always knew she'd take the easy way out. She was like that.
The door opened and Isaac stiffened, not wanting anybody to come near him. To his relief it was his mother and she was only walking down the hall to her room. She didn't say anything to him, didn't try to comfort him, she just walked to her room and went inside. He'd go back inside when he was good and ready to go back inside.
The hall was deserted. Not a soul, not even a sound of a television coming from another room or anything. Just lonely, depressing silence. He'd never known silence to be deafening but it was burying him against the wall. His grave was a mound of loneliness that blurred him into the wall and he stood up quickly to escape it. If he stayed out here any longer he wouldn't have the strength to go back in.
He opened the door and numbly sat down on the bed. Taylor had chosen to share the bed with Zac so he could have this one to himself. It was a small effort to comfort him and it worked, if only a little bit. He removed his shoes and laid on the bed, not even bothering to change or get ready for bed. He knew he wouldn't have the energy to do much of anything now. Maybe in the morning�
"Ike? Are you okay?" Taylor asked. Isaac didn't respond. "I wish I could say something to comfort you but I don't know how to act in these situations."
"Did Mom tell you?" Isaac asked, surprised at his voice. He didn't know he had the energy to speak. He felt so drained all of a sudden. Five minutes ago he was full of life and now he was ready to fall asleep and wake up in about twelve hours.
"No, I knew already." Isaac looked over, a questioning look on his face. No wonder Taylor had been so somber tonight. "I�I was on the phone with Ren� when it happened."
"When did it happen? What happened?" Taylor got off the bed, trying not to disturb Zac. He didn't want to wake Zac up and have him find out this way. He probably wouldn't take as bad as either of them; he didn't know the Cole family as well as them and he was still young, but he would be gravely affected by it. Taylor sat down on the bed next to Isaac.
"I was talking to Ren� yesterday, just a minute or two after you got off the phone with Gracie. Shortly into the conversation Gracie knocked on the door and said to Ren� 'I love you Ren�, I just thought you should know that.' Oh�and I didn't tell you. Right after that she took the phone and she told me to tell you she loves you." Isaac bit his lip and looked away. "Then she left and a few minutes later I heard a shot�a gunshot. Ren� ran to her room and there she was�"
"What exactly did she do?"
"She put a gun in her mouth." Isaac turned away and put his face in a pillow, finally crying. Taylor wasn't quite sure what to do but he was crying himself, so he got off the bed and laid back in the bed with Zac and turned off the light.