Gracie reluctantly looked at the clock. Four a.m. After she got home she went straight to bed, feeling the weight of the day on her shoulders. It'd be a while before she got used to waking up early in the morning and going back to school until mid-afternoon without a break in between.
The day had been stressful. After first period she felt herself slowly sliding downhill for the rest of the day. Second period she fell asleep again but the teacher didn't notice because she woke up before the bell rang. She skipped the next few periods and left the school grounds, just driving around for a while until lunch. At lunch was when she nearly got into a fight with someone who was mocking her for being suspended. Then the rest of the afternoon she roamed the halls instead of staying in her classes.
After school she felt a little better. She went home and watched television before she got bored and called up Isaac to go out. When she got home she was tired, but every time she felt herself drifting, the voice in her head would scream something and wake her up fully again.
Now she was lying in bed, tired. She closed her eyes, but they were forced open. "Bob!! Let me sleep! I'm tired!"
"No, you're going to stay up with me. I'm not tired. Tell me, Gracie, when was the last time you cut yourself for me? I think you're due for another one."
"Why don�t you just leave me alone? All you do is ask me to cut myself. I don't know why I agree to do it, all you do is make the same empty promises each time." She sat up. "No, I'm not going to do it this time. Why don't you cut yourself? You watch yourself bleed and wonder every single time why you do it. You feel the pain. You try to cover it up so no one else knows about it."
"I can't. I'm just a voice. Listen, Gracie, I'm a part of you. I'm a big part of who you are. You're Gracie Cole, accompanied by Bob, the voice inside her head."
"You called yourself Bob. I thought you hated that name."
"Shut up or I'll make you do something you'll regret. Back to what I was saying, I'm you. The only way I can do anything is through you. I've got lots of problems and I enjoy pain. When you cut yourself I can feel it. I can feel the feelings and emotions that run through you. I can feel and touch everything you do. I try to live my life through you. Think of me as a conscience, sort of. I don't tell you what's right and what's wrong and I do have control over you like a real conscience, but I'm still that voice inside that tells you what to do. So are you going to do what I tell you to do or will I have to throw you out the window? I promise it won't be pretty when you hit the ground."
"Ugh, fine. What do you want?"
"There's a patch of clean skin on your left arm that's just screaming to be scarred. Go get the cutter." Gracie got up and went to the bathroom.
"Where'd my cutter go?" she asked, looking through her top drawer. It was basically Bob's junk, stuff he'd made her buy over the past week that she wasn't going to use but had to spend money on. Various types of birth control, stolen alcohol and drugs she'd given free samples of from dealers as a 'welcome to the business' type deal. She couldn't believe the things she had that drawer. Cigarettes, bottles of Jack Daniel's, Vodka, Whiskey�she didn't even care for alcohol. What surprised her the most were the drugs she had. Somehow she'd gotten weed, cocaine and heroin, just sitting there.
She ran her hands over the various contents of a drawer she hoped no one ever found, and didn't see her box cutter. She'd always kept it in here. "Dammit."
"You put it in the hall. Remember you were going to clean it off downstairs and you put it in the hall when your sisters came home?" Bob said.
"Oh. Thanks, Bob." She closed the drawer tightly and left the bathroom. She rubbed her left arm, over the patch of skin that Bob was talking about. It felt much different from the rest of her arm, but maybe that was because it didn't hurt. She glanced at her arms when she opened the door to the hall. So many scars and fresh cuts in just a week's time.
She went to the hall closet and opened the door. She found the cutter in a basket on one of the shelves. She took it out and closed the door, turning to go back to her room. When she turned, she came face to face with Sarah. "Gracie! What are you doing?" The horrified look on Gracie's face, having been caught in the act. Her arms were frozen in mid-air, one holding the blade to the box cutter and the other near her side, clutching her shorts in her fist.
Gracie realized she was frozen in fear and quickly got over it. "Go to sleep, Sarah. God, can't I go anywhere in this house without running into your ugly face?"
"It looks the same as yours, so I wouldn't say anything, all right?" Sarah looked at Gracie's arms and her lower legs. "What are you doing to yourself, Gracie?"
"I'm going back in my room," Gracie said, turning away. "At least there I can be alone." Sarah reached out and grabbed Gracie's arm before she moved too far away. "Ow! That hurts, you little bitch."
"Gracie, what are you doing? You have scars everywhere. They weren't there before you started acting weird I know that. Is that Mom's box cutter you have in your hand? Have you been cutting yourself?"
"Geez, I can tell who got the smarter part of the brain," Gracie said, turning back to Sarah. "Don't say anything, all right? It'll worry Mom and she's already worried about me for being so weird lately."
"What's wrong with you, Gracie? Don't you see you could slip and kill yourself with this?" Sarah picked up Gracie's right hand, which still clutched the blade. "You shouldn't be doing this. It's bad for you. I won't say anything to Mom, or to Ren�, but you have to promise me you'll stop doing this."
"I can't promise you anything," Gracie said, forcing her hand out of Sarah's. "There are reasons why I do this."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you. It's bad enough you found out about this. And Sarah, so help me God if I find out you've told someone. If you do, I will so kill you. I mean it. This is a secret between you and me."
"What about Bob?"
"How do you know about Bob?" Gracie asked, stiffening.
"I hear you talking to him all the time. Does Isaac know about Bob? I'm sure he'd be very interested to hear it."
"I'm sure everyone would be interested to hear about it. You haven't told anybody about Bob have you?" She shook her head. "You won't. You will forget about Bob and not say anything about him again. You got me?" She nodded. "If you do, even I'm afraid of what I'll do to you." Gracie turned, her eyes flashing, and ran back into her room. She closed and locked the door and did the same when she went into the bathroom. She sat down on the lid of the toilet and felt tears in her eyes.
"I don't think she knows what you think she knows."
"She knows about you, Bob. I don't think I can threaten her enough to keep her from telling someone. I don't want anyone to know about you. They'll think it something that I need to get fixed and they'll send me away."
"They'd do that anyway," the other voice in her said.
"You! Don't you say anything besides them hating me and being against me and sending me away?"
"Yes, I do. I help out to keep you from eating and in buying those things you don't use. I think you should drink that alcohol, it won't do any good just sitting in there."
"Shut up. Your new name is Maryann."
"Fine. But you still should drink that alcohol. I'm getting sick of being able to smell it and know it's there, but I can't taste it."
"I'm not going to drink any alcohol. I stole it. That's enough for me. I've never stolen anything before in my life and all of a sudden I'm stealing bottles of alcohol that I keep in a drawer and don't even drink."
"Well if you went through all that to steal it, you should reward yourself by drinking it," Maryann said. Bob agreed. "See? We both think you should drink it."
"I have to cut myself, I don't have time to drink."
"Oh, you can cut yourself later. We'll save that patch of skin for a rainy day," Maryann told her. "Right now the both of us are focusing on the stuff in the drawer." Gracie sighed. Giving up, she put the blade back in the cutter and opened the drawer. She put the cutter in it. "And those condoms do expire, you know."
"I'm not going to use the condoms! Isaac and I are not going to have sex, and that's final! I'm cutting myself, I'm going to drink the alcohol, aren't you two happy enough? Leave me alone for ten minutes so I can finally be at ease and by myself!"
"Well, do it Gracie, and we'll leave you alone," Bob said.
"Oh, like I believe that."
"No! We're serious. Drink the whole bottle and we'll be gone for good. Promise." Gracie sighed, picking up one of the bottles from the drawer. "Down it. You're probably not going to like the taste because you're not used to it, but if you do it enough you'll love it," Bob explained.
"What makes you think that I'll be doing it a lot?"
"Just saying�"
"You better be." She took the top off the bottle and sat down again on the toilet. She put the bottle to her lips. "Here's to you two." She put the bottle to her lips and began to drink. Immediately she stopped, making a face. "Ew! This stuff is nasty!"
"Just drink it, Gracie. It'll get better as you go along." She sighed. Bob and Maryann never have been wrong before. She put the bottle to her lips again and began to drink. When she downed half the bottle, the room was spinning and she did begin to like the taste. "Keep going, Gracie. You're not quite done yet. You still have half the bottle to go."
"I'll do it, just let me catch my breath." She smiled. Hic. "Uh-oh, I think I have the hiccups." Hic.
"Just keep going, Gracie. You're doing so well."
"I'll try." Hic. She put the bottle to her lips and downed the rest. By the time she'd finished she was really enjoying the taste, but the room was spinning too fast and the bottle dropped from her hands and crashed onto the ground. "Damn, that shit is good." Hic. "I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed now." Hic.
"All right," Bob said. She stood up quickly, and in the process lost her footing and fell onto the ground. Hic. She groaned, wanting to get up off the cold floor and over to her bed. She looked over, lifting her head with all her energy. She tried to focus on her bed, but the room was spinning too much.
"Oh�ow�I don't like this." She put her head back against the cold ground. Hic. "I don't like these hiccups either."
"They'll go away," Bob reassured her. "Maybe in the morning."
"Wait a sec, you said if I drank the whole bottle that you'd go away. You're still here."
"Yeah, I lied. You're just so gullible, Gracie. I can't believe it. But obviously you can. If I told you that the world was going to end tomorrow you'd believe me and start packing your bag so you could get out of here."
"The world is going to end tomorrow?" Gracie asked. Hic. "That's going to suck. Well, adios world." She closed her eyes and blacked out.
The sound of her alarm clock woke Gracie up. She opened her eyes and the bright light pierced her eyes. "Oh�" She put her hand over her eyes and slowly sat up. Her head was spinning. "Oh shit." She felt an immediate wave of nausea rise up in her throat and she threw up. Afterwards she wiped her mouth and used the counter to help her stand. She looked at herself and screamed. Her eyes were all red and puffy with a glazed over look to them. Her face was pale and her hair was lined with traces of puke. She must have thrown up when she was asleep.
Her head was still swimming. She had to throw up a few more times before she could stand up on her own. She had twenty minutes to get ready now, and she'd use all of that in the shower trying to get herself clean and looking presentable.
Gracie stood in the shower, sighing. Her head had stopped spinning a few minutes before but she was still sick to her stomach and ready to fall over again. She was worried over everything�what she did last night, what Sarah found out, and now if she was going to be late for school.
"You'll be fine, Gracie. It's just a hangover. Your first one! I'm proud of you," Bob said.
"Well I'm not."
"You should be, Gracie. I'm very proud of you. I hope there will be very many more to enjoy." Gracie groaned. "You should see it up here. I am swimming in color. It's awesome. No hangover for Bob, just pure fun."
"I'm not having any fun. You shut up until I get to school."
"Oh, I am going to make you a bitch this morning. You are going to make everyone's life a living hell," Bob said, laughing.
"Perfect," she grumbled. She shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. She dried herself off and walked into her room to get dressed. "What to wear today?"
"Ankle socks and a short skirt! Ankle socks and a short skirt!" Bob yelled. Gracie put her hand to her head; the scream hurt.
"No, Bob."
"Oh, come on! You've been covering yourself a lot lately. Show some skin, babe. You've got the body."
"There's a reason why I'm not showing skin, Bob. I'm all slashed up and it's your entire fault. I can't show it. Other people will think I'm doing this to myself."
"You are."
"They don't need to know that. I'm wearing long-sleeves and knee socks again. I'm keeping it that way until school is over or until my cuts heal. I can't make an excuse for this, the cuts are too deep."
"Oh, I can think of something. You'll be hot all day."
"It's cold in the classrooms anyway." She began to get dressed. "And don't even think about stopping me, Bob. It's bad enough I'm disoriented and I look like I drank an entire bottle of alcohol last night. Bob, why the heck did you make me do it?"
"Heck? Someone needs to learn how to swear."
"I don't like to swear. But apparently you do and everybody wonders where I pick up such foul language. Where do I pick up such foul language? My parents don't swear and neither do my sisters. I don't have any friends that say anything worse than a 'what the hell' every now and then."
"I find that hard to believe. You're sixteen years old and you don't swear, you don't do drugs or drink or smoke, and you're a virgin. God, you're a prude."
"I like being a prude. I'm healthier this way and there's no way I can ruin my life by getting pregnant."
"But being a whore is so much easier! I know you want to have sex, Gracie. I can hear your thoughts. I know what you're thinking when you're with that boyfriend of yours and I know what you dream about at night. You want him. You want him bad."
"Shut up, Bob!"
"God, you need a cigarette. Go get the pack and stick them in your purse. Don't forget to smoke one before you leave."
"I'm not smoking."
"Move along now." She felt a slight push towards the direction of the bathroom. She stopped, holding onto a wall. "I said move along now!" She felt a heavy push and toppled into the bathroom, inches away from banging her head on the sink.
"Fine, Bob." She took out the pack of cigarettes and a box of matches. She opened the pack and put a cigarette between her lips before putting the pack in her purse. She lit up a match and lit the end of the cigarette, then put out the match and put the box in her purse.
"Now you haven't done this before, but I have. I'll tell you how to do it so you won't cough up a storm. Normally I'd let you just suffer, but I find coughing disgusting and I really don't feel like hearing it from you." She took a drag from the cigarette and let out the smoke, relaxing. It was like she'd done this every day of her life. The nicotine was soothing and she enjoyed the experience more than she thought she would.
"Gracie! You're late again! It's time to leave!" Sarah's voice screamed through her bedroom door. Gracie panicked, clearing the smoke with a wave of her hand. She put out the cigarette and quickly brushed her teeth.
"Don't rush, Gracie. You're not going to be late. You have plenty of time. It doesn't matter anyway," Bob told her.
"I have enough problems with school already, Bob. Don't make me late too." Gracie slipped when she turned to walk away and landed on the floor with a thud. "Bob!"
"Oops."
"I'm going to be late and Sarah's going to think I'm in here slashing myself again. You knew she was out there last night, didn�t you?" Bob didn't say anything. "That's what I thought." She got off the floor and left the room, heading down the stairs.
When Gracie walked into the kitchen, only Sarah looked up with knowing eyes. Gracie absently rubbed her arm, wincing from the sudden pain she was enforcing on herself. She bypassed the kitchen, her purse clacking against her back as she went into the garage and opened the garage door.
Ren� was just sitting down in the front seat, giving a look to Gracie. Gracie tried to smile at her, but she felt her lips retreat into a scowl that had dominated her face the past week. She walked to the driver's seat.
"Once again, Sarah is the last one out the door," she muttered. She took the keys from her purse and started the car. Impatiently she honked the horn, calling out Sarah's name and a few curse words to accent her mood.
Sarah came out of the house quickly, throwing her things in the trunk before climbing into the back seat. As she closed the door, she sniffed the air. "What's that smell?" she asked.
"I don't smell anything," Gracie immediately found herself saying. She'd given up on trying to control what she was saying around her sisters, Bob had dominated her speech around her family already.
"I smell something." Sarah leaned forward. Gracie noticed, and afraid to get caught again, she put the car into reverse.
"Time to go!" She hit the gas and sped out of the garage and down the driveway. It threw Sarah back against her seat. "You may want to put on your seatbelt, Sarah. I don't need you piled up against my seat."
"Shut up, Gracie. You need to stop talking to me like that."
"I don't need to do anything. And why are you all of a sudden being defiant? Don't start acting all high and mighty on me, Sarah."
"I'll do what I please, Gracie," she said indignantly.
"I'll beat your ass!"
"I'll share your secret. Hey Ren�, take a look at Gracie's arms."
"Sarah! Oh I'm stopping this car and I'm beating your ass. I told you I'd kill you if you told."
"I haven't said anything yet, Gracie. I just told Ren� to look at you. No harm in that."
"Oh�ugh! Fuck you!" Gracie yelled and put her eyes back on the road. The school was fast approaching and Gracie showed little signs of slowing down.
"Gracie, school. Aren't you going to stop?"
"Yes, I'm going to stop. I won't slow down but I will eventually stop." She switched lanes and pulled into the parking lot, still going as fast as she was before. The cars whizzed by until Gracie slammed on the brakes, coming to a complete stop just inches away from the car in front of her. Slowly she turned into the parking space. She turned and smiled at her sisters.
"Gracie, you're insane," Ren� said, unbuckling the seatbelt she'd been gripping the entire ride. Gracie's smile faded and she looked at her sister.
"No! I'm not crazy. I'm perfectly fine. You are the one who is crazy."
"I was just saying�"
"Don't! Don't just say." Gracie put her shirt over the door handle and opened the door, quickly getting out and away from his sisters. To her dislike, Ren� got out of the car and caught up with her.
"Gracie! What's wrong with you?" she asked. Gracie stopped and turned around.
"Why do people keep asking me that? There is nothing wrong with me. Everybody thinks there is, but there isn't. I'm fine. Everything is just fine!" She ran into the building, passing by her homeroom and running into the bathroom. She locked herself in one of the stalls and sat down, crying. Ren� really made it clear. She was crazy. The slashing herself, Bob and Maryann, all her weird behavior�she was crazy.
"You're not crazy, Gracie," Bob said, reassuringly. "I know it seems weird to have something like me around, constantly telling you to do things to yourself and others, but think about it. It's just like a little kid with an imaginary friend. Remember Sarah had one when she was little because you and Ren� always used to forget about her cause she was so quiet?" Gracie nodded. "It's the same thing. Little kids aren't crazy, and neither are you. The only difference is that you're a little older. You're feeling alone so I pop up. I'm an imaginary friend that's really a bad influence on you."
"Well, that does make sense."
"Of course it does, sweetie. Now you're not going to calm down now without a cigarette. You know that empty feeling in the pit of your stomach that's nagging at you?" Gracie nodded. "That's a craving. You want a cigarette. You got a whole pack. You can smoke the day away."
"I have classes."
"We'll think about it later."
"Okay."