Clear Cut

Home > Other > Clear Cut > Page 7
Clear Cut Page 7

by Melody Dodds


  and pretty,

  and looks

  a little sad.

  “I spoke

  with Josie

  this morning,” she tells me.

  “How is she?”

  “She asked

  to speak with me—”

  “Is she okay?”

  “—about you.”

  “What?”

  “Heather,

  please.

  Roll up your sleeves.”

  MY WORLD SPINS AWAY

  I feel

  like someone

  ice-bucketed

  me.

  But also

  like I am

  on fire.

  I want to

  scream die

  confess cry.

  I am

  ashamed by

  betrayed for

  exposed of

  saved from

  my

  deep

  dark

  dirty

  secret.

  I roll up my sleeves.

  I pull up my shirt.

  I even describe my legs.

  THINGS YOU CAN DO

  INSTEAD OF CUTTING

  Ms. Turner’s list

  is ridiculous:

  listen to loud music

  jump rope

  chop wood

  snap a rubber band

  against your wrist

  tie a red string

  around your wrist

  use a red marker

  hold an ice cube.

  But Ms. Turner seems so

  hopeful

  optimistic

  honest

  kind…

  that I promise

  to try.

  WEIRD FEELING

  I’m kind of waiting

  to feel

  like cutting

  so I can see if

  I can make myself

  not feel

  like cutting.

  TREY SAYS

  “Probably I should have

  told someone.

  But I would have felt

  like a snitch.”

  Paige says, “Is this

  over a boy?

  Because I

  will kill him!”

  Liv says, “…but how could I know that?

  Cooper said

  girls who do that

  are nuts,

  but you’re not.

  You’re my friend.”

  Liv’s mom says, “Remember

  when I told you

  you’re always welcome here?

  You still are.”

  MY Mom says “Honey, I’m sorry,

  I’m so sorry,

  so sorrysorrysorry…”

  DAD SAYS…

  goodbye.

  Ms. Turner

  had to tell them.

  The law made her.

  They met

  more than once,

  my parents

  and this counselor.

  They decided

  our house is

  toxic

  divided unhappy

  a trigger.

  So now,

  Dad will just visit.

  DAD PROMISES…

  that our development

  is suing

  Josie’s father.

  And will identify

  other plots

  with a high chance

  of being

  clear cut.

  These plots

  will then

  be guarded

  and monitored.

  Like I did.

  Only better.

  He tells me

  who to talk to

  to make sure

  I’m part of the team.

  He promises,

  and I believe him.

  Because back in May,

  he didn’t even promise.

  And he still came

  to see me read.

  THEPLAYS

  get produced

  in spite of

  everything.

  And people come

  to see them,

  even Cooper.

  I end up

  taking

  Josie’s roles,

  which is weird

  but seems right.

  (Even though

  she hasn’t

  been in touch

  to ask.)

  The acting coach

  was all about it.

  “I don’t know why

  they didn’t send you

  to the acting track.

  I guess

  you’ll just have

  to come back.”

  THE HARDEST PART

  may be the scars.

  No amount

  of cocoa butter

  can hide the fact

  that I’m a cutter.

  “You were a cutter,”

  Ms. Turner

  corrects me.

  She says to

  accept that I did it,

  but to think

  of cutting

  as something I

  used to do.

  A phase.

  Like ketchup sandwiches,

  or blue hair…

  “Or a bad tattoo

  that I later regret?”

  “Some people actually

  cover those scars

  with tattoos,” she says.

  “But you didn’t

  hear that

  from me.” Wink, wink.

  TREY AND I

  are having lunch

  the last day

  of camp.

  “I’ve got

  a lot

  of stories

  about animals,

  if you ever want to,

  like, call me

  or anything.”

  Dawson

  wanders past us

  “Ohmygod, dude.

  Kiss her

  already!”

  Trey’s smile

  goes crooked

  and his face

  gets bright.

  Probably not

  as bright as mine,

  though.

  “What kind

  of stories?”

  MAMA BEAR

  “Well, like

  there’s one

  about this bear.

  There’s this little kid

  who gets trapped

  in a cave

  and left

  to die

  by his nasty

  stepfather.

  But Gluscabi—that’s our

  Great Chief, right?

  Our protector?

  He sends

  his little buddy

  Porcupine

  into the cave

  to help.

  Porcupine, like,

  glows his eyes

  at the kid

  and somehow

  that calms him down.”

  “Really?

  I’d freak out

  more.”

  “Right?

  Anyway, Porcupine

  calls out to all the forest critters

  to come move

  this boulder.

  And they all show up!

  Like it’s a party

  or something.

  Wolf, raccoon,

  caribou, turtle,

  possum, rabbit,

  squirrel,

  and too many

  birds to list.

  Most of them,

  why even bother?

  Maybe they were

  placing bets

  or something.

  Of course,

  they all try,

  and they all fail,

  and a lot of them

  get hurt.

  Then finally,

  this Mama Bear

  shows up and

  moves

  the stupid rock.”

  IS THAT IT?

  “I feel like

  there’s more.”

&n
bsp; “There is.”

  “What’s the rest?”

  “It’s really long.”

  “You don’t

  remember.”

  He shakes his head.

  “I better relearn

  this stuff.

  I’m Native.

  I’m supposed to be

  All Wise

  or some nonsense.”

  He pauses,

  like he’s

  deciding something.

  “I was just thinking,

  you were kind of like

  Josie’s bear.

  Like, all the other animals tried,

  but only the bear

  could free her.

  But then,

  you’re kind of like

  the kid, too.

  And Ms. Turner

  is your bear.”

  I finally

  can’t help it.

  I start laughing.

  “I know.

  It’s a mess.

  Plus, my dad’s

  going to kick my butt

  if he finds out

  I forgot all this stuff!

  But I think

  you were good

  for Josie.

  I think

  you helped her.

  And I’ll

  bet she’s glad.

  Someday,

  somehow…

  she’ll let you know.”

  THE OTHER HARDEST PART

  We have been working

  on my “triggers.”

  Things that make me

  want to hurt myself.

  I say:

  Ms. Turner translates:

  my parents fighting

  lack of security

  Liv’s

  feeling

  SUCKTASTIC

  left out or

  “boyfriend”

  “isolated”

  clear cutting

  lack of control

  in my development

  “climate anxiety”

  What?

  This work sucks!

  Ms. Turner says

  I need to be aware

  of my triggers

  when school starts.

  She also says

  I have to tell people

  what I think

  and how I feel

  for real.

  AUGUST

  (RUBBER BAND)

  Ms. Turner’s list

  actually helps.

  I’ve gotten most

  of my “triggers”

  under control.

  But sometimes

  I want

  an outlet.

  SEPTEMBER (Red Marker)

  Ms. Turner and I

  have talked

  about being scared,

  feeling helpless,

  having no control.

  OCTOBER (Chop Wood)

  We have talked

  about wanting

  to die.

  Feeling suicidal.

  NOVEMBER ( … )

  I don’t want to die.

  I was never suicidal.

  DECEMBER ( … )

  I am not Josie.

  I was never Josie.

  I could have been.

  But I got lucky.

  THE SNOW BALL

  Our yearly

  December dance.

  Like last year,

  Liv wants to go.

  She has a date.

  A real date.

  He is taking her

  for dinner

  before the dance

  and he

  (well, his dad)

  is driving.

  I have a date, too.

  Liv told Trey

  about it

  (of course she did)

  and he asked

  if he could take me.

  So I said yes.

  JUST LOVE & PEACE

  When he called

  about the dance,

  Trey asked me

  about Josie.

  I’ve been afraid

  to check,

  but tonight

  I decide

  it’s time.

  LPRB has a new name:

  JLP

  There is just one video.

  I press play.

  There is Sophie,

  but with no veil

  and no voice effects.

  There is Josie.

  “Hi. You guys

  know me

  as Sophie, and I am.

  (It’s short

  for Josephine.)

  Except from now on,

  I’m Josie.

  A lot of the advice

  that Sophie gave you,

  I’ve learned

  it was bad.

  I spent the summer

  in this magical place

  and made this

  great friend and…

  screwed up bad.”

  Josie starts crying,

  but calms herself.

  “Listen:

  I said before

  not to tell your parents.

  That was wrong.

  I’m saying today:

  Find someone,

  any one person

  you can trust

  and talk to them.

  Let them help you.

  When you get

  good help,

  it feels amazing.

  It’s the biggest relief

  in the world,

  even

  better

  than

  cutting.”

  LOVE, PEACE, & HEALING

  I wonder

  if Josie

  will be okay.

  If this will be

  for her

  like it was

  for me:

  a phase.

  Something

  that we will

  look back on…

  I don’t think

  we will laugh.

  Even seeing

  her scars,

  I didn’t understand

  that her pain

  ran so deep.

  Can a person

  ever

  escape that?

  I like to think so.

  I like to think

  she’ll learn to cope

  and maybe even

  get famous!

  I hope

  she does.

  I open

  the comments

  and leave her

  a note:

  Dear Josie,

  We hurt ourselves,

  and now

  someone is going to help us

  heal and feel better.

  Love and peace

  from the Most Northeast

  It Started

  with a yes.

  A yes

  that slipped

  easily

  from my lips.

  Would you girls want to

  meet up later?

  We could all go out

  on Nate’s dad’s boat?

  Jay’s green eyes

  were both

  nervous and eager.

  His voice was

  low and soft.

  Like the moon

  s u s p e n d e d

  over the water.

  A small doubt

  like a mosquito

  tickled the back of my neck.

  But it was carried away

  by the sweet-smelling

  air of the deep blue Florida night.

  Moonlight

  gives me courage.

  But Eva looked unsure.

  Don’t worry, Jay laughed.

  You girls will be safe with us.

  We’re locals, remember? He winked.

  We know what we’re doing.

  My excitement

  was like static electricity.

  If anyone touched

  my skin,

  their hair

  would stand

  on end.

 
; Yes! I squealed.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Melody Dodds is a chemist and former substitute teacher. In addition to this book, she is the author of another verse novel, Little Pills. She shares her home with two cats and one husband, and is building a foil ball exclusively from candy wrappers. It is currently the size of a small pumpkin.

 

 

 


‹ Prev