Her (44 page)

I had never seen Lexus’ face so sour. It felt rather good to see that hurt look on her face. For the first time in a long time, Lexus and I were being real. I knew that this sadness would not last too long for her. All she had to do was run into John’s arms. Then she would tell him everything. That would make him hate me even more. John would comfort Lexus. She’d forget about our argument, and everything about me. She’d move on and never look back.  She wouldn’t remember that terrible, sick, and depressing friend who'd burdened her.

Truth be told, I wasn’t angry with her for not answering her phone that night. I wouldn’t have answered my call, either. It would have ruined her night if she had answered the phone, because I had already taken the pills. I had gotten scared, and I could only think to call her. When she hadn’t answered, I’d grabbed the knife and had run it across my wrists to finish. I didn’t want to be scared anymore.

Lexus gathered her purse and grabbed her sweater off the back of the chair where she was sitting.

“I don’t know why I thought I could come here and talk to you,” she said to me as she dug into her purse to find her keys.

She was very upset. I started to feel bad, but it was too late to stop her or to take back anything I had said.

“I thought I could come here and tell you the good news,” she said.

“What good news?” I asked.

Lexus stayed silent as she swung her sweater over her shoulders. She slipped her left arm through the sleeve. As her hand slid out of the other end, I saw the diamond on her ring finger. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t move.

“I’m leaving,” she said. “I have nothing more to say to you. Call me when you are out of here. Maybe you will learn to listen to yourself when you speak. Right now, I don’t think you do. Bye!” She left.

I sat, stuck to my seat. When she’d said that she wanted to tell me the good news, I’d had no idea what it could be until I’d seen the engagement ring that had not been on her finger when I had last seen her. Lexus hadn’t had to say a word. That terrible metal ball turned tirelessly in my chest, making it get tighter and tighter. I squeezed my eyes shut. It hurt too badly. Tears began to fall out of my eyes.

I heard Geoffrey call out to me. I looked back at him. He called for me to come over to him because he was concerned. He asked me what was wrong. Without answering him, I got up and ran to my room before he could ask any more questions.

CHAPTER 45

Mena looked up at me, startled. She was lounging back on her bed, twisting the wings of my sterling silver butterfly pendant between her fingertips, and playing with Mr. Sharp.  At first, I was shocked to see her because of what had happened in Anger Management yesterday, and because she was touching my butterfly.

I stood in front of her bed and looked down to make sure it was my pendant. I saw the silver wings shimmer in the sunlight that was coming through the blinds hanging from the window.

”What are you doing?” I scolded her.

Mena silently smiled at me while she teased me with the pendant.

“Don’t smile at me,” I said to her. “I am so sick of you.” I leaned in close to her, not scared if she tried to hit me.

Mena took me by the hand and yanked me down. I flopped down on the bed next to her. She leaned over to me and pushed my hair out of my face. She kept her grip on my hand. She wasn’t hurting me, but she was confusing me. Then she lifted my sleeve on the arm of the hand that she was holding.

“Did you know,” she said, “that more than forty percent of people who attempt suicide become a statistic when they are released from a psychiatric hospital?”

“No,” I told her as I tried to shove her away. She kept a tight grip.

“They become a statistic of people who succeed in killing themselves when they get out. They attempt suicide again, and then they actually die.”

Scared, I tried to push her away again, but she held on tighter.

“Mena!” I cried out. “Please. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me go.”

She shoved my hand away from rejecting her. I tried to pull away, but she had a good grip on my hand. She got my sleeve up to my elbow, and we both looked down at the stitches on my wrists. I began to calm down as I stared at the reality written in my skin. I saw the red stitches rooted in my skin. I saw the ugliness that I had created.

Mena loosened her grip on my hand as she saw me begin to accept it.

“It is really sad, isn’t it?” she asked me.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re born into this screwed-up world, and this is the place you end up. Or you end up in your grave.” She shook her head as she continued to look down at my wrist. “Rocky knew what to do. He knew exactly what to do to make it happen. He knew he wanted to be free and never turn back.”

“What are you talking about?”

She looked seriously into my eyes. “If you really want to die, there are ways to make it happen, whether they come to try to save you or not. There are ways that make it impossible to turn back, even when you’re scared. Rocky snapped his neck. He cut his lifeline. He was dead when those losers got here to try to save him. It’s like jumping off of a bridge onto a highway, shooting yourself in the head, or cutting your wrists the right way.”

She gestured up and down with her fingers, running them down my exposed wrist. I watched her. She then ran her fingers across my wrist where I had cut the wrong way, and she shook her head at me.

“You didn’t do it right.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I didn’t want to. What she said made sense to me. I looked down at my wrist again, then back up at her.

“No repair,” she said. “No tears, no time for regret. Just die.”

“I
was
serious about it,” I told her.

She nodded her head. “Maybe,” she said. “But you knew you could be saved. You probably even got scared. Rocky didn’t want to be saved, and he wasn’t scared. He wasn’t scared because he did not leave his edge, even after they locked him up in this mind-bending place. They just want to pump us up full of pills that blind us to reality. They want the sun to keep shining, and they want us to like it.

They want us to be like your pretty, little friend out there. The one that came to visit you today.”

I looked at her, shocked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “It’s obvious how different the two of you are. You were getting so loud. I thought you were going to really let her have it. You should have. Let me guess, she’s the pretty and successful one that your mom tells you to look up to, and you’re the one that reminds her every day of how great she is. Man, she’s lucky to have a friend like
you
.”

I swallowed hard at what she said. As the silver butterfly wings twisted between her fingertips, I could see Mr. Sharp’s smile. He hadn’t left me.

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Mena said. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. You just need to know the truth. You need to think openly with the gift that you have. You are so much smarter than she is. She’s blind. You are not in here because you did something bad. You are here because you know what other people can’t accept. So they make us feel like we need to be alive and ignore the truth that is inside of us because they don’t want us to know it. They want to keep being blinded from everything. You already know, don’t you?”

Mr. Sharp was there. He nodded through me. “Yes, I know,” he said through my lips.

“Don’t let your edge go,” she said to me. “Don’t let it go for them. When you can finally move, that’s when you will make them see that this is all you have.” She held up the butterfly.

The silver, sharp wings made Mr. Sharp excited.

I knew what they wanted me to do. I took the butterfly from between her fingers.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t say anything. I have my own.” She reached into her pillowcase and pulled out a thin, naked razor blade. “I broke the plastic part from around one of those razors you buy from the grocery store and took this out. It’s amazing how the cheaper ones are so much sharper than the more expensive shavers are. It’s not as cute as yours, but it does do the job.”

She lifted her pant leg, and I saw the fresh bruises on her legs.

“When did you do that to your legs?”

“My arms would have been too obvious. Last night they put me in that dark room. It’s a good thing they didn’t tie me down. They left me in there all night, after what had happened with Dr. Bent. I hate the dark. I needed to stay calm, so my razor saw to it.” She pressed the razor to her lips roughly and kissed it.

“What happened yesterday?” I asked her. “You just went crazy.”

“I didn’t go crazy,” she said with serious eyes. “I didn’t do anything to that woman that she couldn’t go home and drink off. It’s like I said before. They want to blind us. Dr. Bent’s no different. Why would they want to hide that Rocky
did
kill himself? Think about it.”

I could see that she was beginning to get upset again, so I didn’t say anything else. I began to get up, but she grabbed my hand again. I sat back down next to her.

She smiled deviously. “Do you want to?”

She held up her razor and gestured to my butterfly pendant.  Mr. Sharp smiled back at her through my face. I tried to push back through. I shook my head, but she wasn’t buying it. I knew that she could see Mr. Sharp clearly.

Mena calmly took the butterfly pendant out of my hand. She pressed the tip of the wing to my arm gently. My heart began to race. She pressed it hard onto my skin, and a sharp pain went through my veins.

“No,” I moaned, but Mr. Sharp wouldn’t let me pull away.

She continued to press. “Shhh,” she shushed me. “We’re almost there.”

Mena pressed the wings harder to my skin until it broke though. The pain pushed through, and a rush of adrenaline flushed out of me. She dragged the wing down and made a bloody line on my arm. The warm redness gushed out from the wound as she pressed the wing deeply into my skin and dragged it down my arm. When the blood came through, Mr. Sharp burst inside of me in relief. He sighed softly with my breath and he let a moan out of my throat.

A tear came out of my eye while the tingling sensation ran through my skin. I looked down at the blood. It was exhilarating. Breathing heavily, and with that amazing feeling that I missed, I looked at Mena wide-eyed. I was amazed at what she had just done to me.

Mr. Sharp made me take the butterfly pendant from out of her hand.

“No one has ever done that to me before,” I told her.

I looked down at my arm again. I saw the blood and remained calm. Mr. Sharp embraced me warmly through the blood. The anger caused by Lexus seeped out from the fresh wound.

Mena was smiling. She leaned in close to me. “That’s good,” she said. You’re satisfied.” She touched my hair again. This time she moved my bangs completely from my face.

I started to feel too strange. I moved slightly away from her.

“You’re okay,” she said. She scooted closer once more.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m fine.” I was a little confused.

“Kristen,” she said as she gently touched my face with the left palm of her hand. “Have you ever…”

“Kristen?” A man’s voice called out to me with a knock on the door.

I jumped up off Mena’s bed, startled and still a little confused. I pulled my sleeve down and shoved the butterfly pendant into my pocket.

“Yes? Come in!” I called out.

Mr. Anton entered the room. If Mr. Anton hadn’t knocked, I wondered, what would have happened?

Mr. Anton stood halfway through the door and said, “Kristen, come with me. I am going to take you to Dr. Pelchat’s office. It is time for your session.”

The pain in my chest swelled back up.

CHAPTER 46

When I entered Dr. Pelchat’s office, he was already sitting behind his desk with his legs crossed and my chart open with his pen in hand. As soon as Mr. Anton left me and shut the door, Dr. Pelchat insisted that I take a seat. He was completely serious and used a professional tone. His demeanor worried me.

“Is there something the matter?” I asked.

Dr. Pelchat leaned back in his chair, realizing that I had caught on that there was something going on. He took off his glasses and looked at me.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he said to me, “The matter is your test results. They came in this morning.”

I gasped. I felt my heart jump.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he assured me. “Everything is going to be alright.”

“What did the test tell you? Was it able to tell you anything?”

My heart would not stop racing. What if the test didn’t say anything? What if I was completely lost and hopeless? What if I couldn’t be helped?

“Yes. The test did return results, but it was not what we were hoping.”

“No? What did it say?”

“First off, I want to ask you something.”

“What do you want to ask me?”

The delay from him stalling was bothering me. I wanted to know what was going on with me, and what the test had told him.

“How is your new roommate situation coming along?”

I thought back to earlier when I had let Mena cut me with the butterfly wing pendant.

“It’s okay,” I told him.

“I understand that you were the one to find your former roommate, Janine, in the bathroom of your old bedroom. That must have been really scary.”

I shook my head, remembering the screams and the look on Janine’s face as they were trying to hold her down and keep her from hurting herself. I could almost smell the blood again.

“Yes,” I said. “It was really scary. Do you know how she is doing?”

“She is doing a lot better. It’s thanks to you, Kristen. If you hadn’t called for help for her, she could have been seriously injured. Now she’s somewhere where she will get the full attention she needs. Bent Creek is not the best place for someone with extremes like Janine has. She has to be somewhere where they can watch her constantly.”

“You mean an institution?” I asked him.

Dr. Pelchat nodded softly. “Janine’s not necessarily in an institution. She’s in a long-term care facility where the doctors and staff are a little less lenient and are more watchful.”

“They won’t hurt her, right?”

“No,” Dr. Pelchat assured me with a strong tone. “They will see to it that Janine gets the full attention and help that she needs to get her to full recovery. She will get the care that we here at Bent Creek are not fully equipped to handle here. We are just a short–term, in-patient facility. We only keep patients up to a maximum of four to five weeks, if that. If, at the end of that time, we don’t see progress, then we make the necessary arrangements for you to go to a long-term facility, like Janine.”

I thought back to when I had been in the room with Mena. She had said something about people who had gotten out of the hospital and attempted suicide again, and then succeeded. I grew scared thinking about Janine.

I asked, “Is it true that there are people who become statistics?”

“What kind of a statistic?”

“I heard that forty percent of the people who are hospitalized for attempted suicide get released, and then do it again. But then they succeed and die because of it.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I just heard some people talking,” I lied.

He shook his head and said, “I don’t think that forty percent is quite the accurate number. It is true that
some
patients are released from psychiatric care when their condition has not gotten better, even though it may seem that way. Some of them do carry out their original plans and succeed. That’s why most doctors do their best to make sure that, if extended care is needed for these patients, they’ll get it by staying longer in treatment, or they are sent to a facility that can provide the care they need. In Janine’s case, she was sent to a long-term care hospital.”