Forever Mark

by Jessyca Thibault

  Now I found myself staring at the craft knife, thin and silver with a small blade on the end that was covered by a transparent cap, and I could feel my resolve fading. It would be so easy. The blade was sharp and I wasn’t. I was dull and weak and alone. Maybe one little cut wouldn’t hurt.

  No.

  The voice came to me somewhere deep within my brain, but it was so loud I almost dropped the knife. I shook my head and suddenly things started to look clearer.

  It wouldn’t be just one little cut. One little cut would lead to more little cuts. More little cuts would lead to deeper cuts. Giving myself permission today would mean giving myself permission tonight and tomorrow and next week and I couldn’t do that. I’d fought the urge all week and I could fight it now.

  I am worth more than this.

  I am stronger than this.

  I can get through this.

  I reminded myself these things until I felt the urgent pang in my fingers fade away. I would keep reminding myself of these things until I believed them.

  Just to be on the safe side, I squirted a mound of glue onto the blade of the knife and smothered it in glitter sprinkles. Then I capped it, tossed it back into the bag, and started crafting.

  And I almost felt like I’d won a war.

  There was glitter all over my bed, I’d nearly superglued my finger to a black button, and a blue gel pen had exploded all over my hands. I was sweaty, I was more sparkly than I’d ever been in my life, and I looked like I’d been trying to strangle a Smurf. And I’d only done one poem.

  Who knew crafting would be such hard work? It was helping though – I hadn’t thought of you-know-who the whole time I was doing it. Well, there had been one minor mishap involving a little scrapbook cutout of a bicycle, which I’d found in the bag of other tiny scrapbook cutouts. No worries though, I threw the baby bicycle onto the floor beside my bed – where it would hopefully get lost among the other random things I threw onto the floor beside my bed – and kept on with the crafting.

  I had to say, that page one of my epic poem book looked quite fabulous. I’d been planning to write the words out with the blue gel pen, but when it exploded I aborted that mission and decided to use a black permanent marker instead. I glued some black buttons around the edges of the page and used the glue to create a broken heart beneath the poem. I then dumped a ton of red glitter-sparkles on the glue so the heart would be red. Besides the fact that the broken heart kind of resembled a cracked egg, the first page was a success.

  It only took forty-five minutes.

  This little project was most certainly going to be a work in progress.

  The sound of a thousand bullets pulled my focus away from the craft playground that was my bed and over towards the window. Water was pounding against the glass. I walked over to the window and looked outside. The storm had definitely picked up. The trees were swaying violently in the wind and the rain was coming down so hard you’d swear the heavens had opened up and were dumping their entire water supply onto the earth. The sky rumbled loudly, the vibration shaking the house. I backed away from the window slightly. With thunder came lightning and I was always told you didn’t want to stand by a window when it was lightning outside, unless of course electrocution was on your bucket list.

  I was about to go back to my bed when a shadow on the street caught my eye. I stepped forward, pressing my face to the glass. I squinted, trying to see out the window, but everything was blurred and grey.

  I was probably just seeing things.

  But then the shadow darted through the rain again.

  “What the?”

  Something was definitely out there.

  I ripped my eyes from the window and ran out of my room, rushing down the stairs and making my way to the front door. I yanked it open and was immediately hit by the noise of the storm. I stepped out onto the porch, hugging my body. The air was cool and the mist of the rain kissed my skin, tickling my bare feet. The rain brought a calm that washed over me and I found a sense of peace standing out among the chaos of the storm.

  I vaguely considered the fact that walking outside in the middle of a thunderstorm when there was an unidentified shadow running around probably wasn’t the smartest idea. It could be a coyote or a bear or a mass murderer, after all. I couldn’t bring myself to step back inside though. Instead I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of the rain – that mix of soil and flowers and freshness, like the world was being washed clean. When I opened my eyes the shadow was hurtling towards me, taking the form of a person.

  Chapter 34

  Numb

  I just want to be able to breathe

  I want the pressure in my lungs to go down

  I want the tightness in my chest to fade

  I want the emptiness in my heart to fill up

  The numbness hurts so much

  I never knew feeling nothing could be so crippling

  But the pain of it is almost unbearable

  All I want is to feel alive

  Instead of feeling like I’m always fighting

  To survive

  Kellen was standing in front of me, dripping like a wet dog.

  “Carson.” He said it in a tone that said he was surprised to see me. Kellen pulled his hood down and shook his hair out. I was reminded even more of a cocker spaniel that had just jumped out of the bathtub. “You’re here,” he added. This time his voice sounded relieved.

  “This is my house,” I said, trying to make my voice as flat as possible. I felt a jolt in my heart though, one that had nothing to do with standing too close to a window during a lightning storm.

  “Yeah, you’re right. That was dumb. I guess I was just hoping you weren’t…” Kellen’s voice trailed off.

  “Weren’t what? Getting all touchy-feely with some blonde-haired and muscly jock?”

  Kellen looked down like my words had stung him. Good.

  “I deserve that. Carson, I’m – ”

  I put my hands up to stop him.

  “Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t want to hear Kellen tell me he was sorry. I could already feel my resolve slipping. The sound of my name coming off of his lips was already making my head feel fuzzy.

  “I am,” Kellen said, apologizing without saying the words. “I really am.”

  Kellen looked different. It wasn’t anything huge and at first I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was off. Then I realized it was his eyes. Kellen’s eyes always had this sparkle to them, this fired-up excitement. That was gone now, replaced by a dullness. Deep purple shadows sat beneath his eyes. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

  “What are you doing here, Kellen?” I asked, wrapping my arms around my body again. The wind had started to pick up, water-filled gusts hurtling at my skin. Kellen stepped towards me, but I took a step back. He stopped, pulled off his black hoodie, and offered it to me. I considered it for a minute, wondering how much good a wet sweatshirt was going to do me, but I took it anyways. It was better than nothing.

  “It’s raining,” he said.

  “Thanks for the weather report, Captain. I hadn’t noticed.”

  Kellen laughed. I felt like my heartstrings were literally being twisted and pulled and tied together. I missed that sound. I didn’t want to miss that sound as much as I did. I tried to shove the feeling down and hoped it would just go away.

  It didn’t.

  “I miss your unwavering sarcasm,” he said, still laughing to himself. “I thought maybe you’d want to do something spontaneous, like dance in the rain.”

  “What?”

  “Have you ever danced in the rain?” he asked.

  I thought about it for a second. “No.”

  “So let’s go,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “Let me get this straight,” I said. “You came all the way over here in the middle of a storm to ask me to dance with you in the middle of the storm?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Did you fall off your bike and smash your head
on a really hard rock?”

  “Not that I know of,” he said, giving me that shy half-smile that he did so well. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes though. They still seemed hesitant, unsure. “So, what do you say?”

  I looked from Kellen’s outstretched hand to his face. I had no idea what to do.

  “I’m mad at you,” I said.

  “I know.”

  “I kind of hate you right now.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  I took a deep breath and looked out into the storm. The air was electric, the rain and the wind and the noise calling my name.

  “Okay,” I said. “As long as you know that.”

  I took Kellen’s hand and ran with him into the storm, letting spontaneity take over.

  “Okay,” I said, wringing my hair out in one of the towels I’d gotten from the bathroom. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

  When Kellen and I had stepped out into the rain I’d felt this rush of adrenaline. Thunder was booming and lightning was ripping through the darkness like veins in the sky. I hadn’t felt afraid at all though. I’d actually felt alive. It was exhilarating.

  As the rain barreled down on me I’d felt all of my worries, my fears, and my doubts wash away. I’d skipped down the driveway and splashed through puddles. I’d thrown my head back and laughed at the sky, feeling crazy and wild and free, but also completely in control. When I’d lifted my head back up I was looking at Kellen, the Kellen I’d met all those weeks before. He was smiling too and I’d watched as his eyes came back to life – no more hesitation and no more uncertainty. Just vibrant life.

  Kellen had picked me up and twirled me around. We’d slow danced as the rain poured and the thunder rolled and the lightning lit up our dance floor. It was like magic.

  When a flash of lightning came so close that we could each see the electric strike reflected in the other’s eyes though, we’d run for the porch. I’d led the way inside and grabbed a stack of towels. Kellen and I had laid a few out on the kitchen floor and we sat down now, each of us taking another towel to try and dry off.

  Looking across the house, I could see that the carpet was a mess. We’d tracked dirt and mud and grass everywhere and it was probably going to take an entire can of carpet shampoo and several hours for me to clean it all up, but I wasn’t worried about it in that moment. I had other things on my mind, like finding out what Kellen had to say. I’d decided that in the spirit of spontaneity I would hear him out.

  Besides, I was sad and lonely and I missed him. I’d tried not to, but I did. Plus, he’d come all the way over to my house in the middle of a thunderstorm to see me. I had a hard time believing that a Grade A dirtbag would put that much effort in. Maybe a Grade B or C dirtbag, but I could possibly work with that.

  Kellen took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “I just want to start by saying that whatever you saw was not what it looked like.”

  “Your disclaimer is noted,” I said. “Go on.”

  “Now, you’re probably not going to like this first part, but promise not to freak out.”

  “You’re not really in a position to ask for promises,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re also not getting off to a very good start.”

  “I’ve thought about how I’m going to say this a hundred times but now that I’m actually saying it I know I’m going to mess it up. Okay, here goes.” Kellen exhaled. “So from what you said earlier I’m guessing you saw me hugging a girl.”

  “Blonde? Flowery? Looks like she smells like peaches and cream? Yep, I saw.”

  “Right, so her name is Kinsley – ”

  Kinsley. Even her name sounded like a high-end perfume.

  “ – and she’s my ex-girlfriend.”

  I could feel my body tense up. My eyes narrowed involuntarily and I balled my hands into fists. My head felt like a pressure cooker and I swore I could hear my hair sizzle against my scalp. I wanted to rip Kinsley’s face off. Kellen and Kinsley. They sounded so perfect together it made me want to vomit.

  “Carson, please say something.”

  I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. “You were right,” I said. “I didn’t like that part.”

  Kellen was hugging his ex-girlfriend. The “ex” part should’ve made me happy, I mean they weren’t together anymore. But then again, why was he hugging his ex-girlfriend if he didn’t have feelings for her? He should’ve hated his ex-girlfriend. It would’ve made me feel so much better if he hated his ex-girlfriend. I hated his ex-girlfriend.

  “I know,” he said. “But I promise there was nothing going on.”

  “When did you guys date?”

  “We started going out when I was sixteen. She was a year younger. We met because our moms worked together at the preschool. We broke up while I was in rehab.”

  Of course they’d met through their moms. Of course he hadn’t met her outside of a shrink’s office.

  “Who broke up with who?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

  “It was mutual. I asked her to come to the center because I wanted to break things off, but when she got there she told me things weren’t working. Things hadn’t been working for a while and we both knew that. My addiction didn’t exactly help either.”

  I nodded. Words were fighting to climb their way out of my throat, but I tried to push them down. I didn’t want to sound insecure and pathetic and –

  “Do you still have feelings for her?” I blurted out.

  I could feel warmth spread across my cheeks and I knew I was turning red. So much for keeping it cool.

  “No,” Kellen said without missing a beat. “I only saw Kinsley once right after I got out of rehab and I hadn’t seen her since. When I ran into her the other day I was surprised, but I also felt kind of awkward. We had been friends for a few years before we started dating so I didn’t really know what to do. So I hugged her.”

  I could see in Kellen’s eyes that he was telling the truth. After growing up with a father that drank alcohol like water and a mother that buried her head in the sand, I sort of picked up on the signs of deception – the way a person’s eyes would be focused just to the left of you or the way their smile was just a little too tight. Kellen was looking me straight in the eyes though and I knew he was being honest with me.

  If I had been thinking rationally on Monday and if I hadn’t been so keyed up from the kids in class and the bathroom stall and Roxi Ray and everything else that had happened in school then maybe I would’ve heard Kellen out then. This whole week of misery wouldn’t have happened. I’d been too quick to believe he would break my heart though. I was determined to sabotage the one good thing I had going for me because I was convinced that it couldn’t be real, that it couldn’t last.

  I looked down at my feet, a little ashamed. I was pretty sure there were blades of grass permanently stuck between my toes. I focused on those little green bits to keep myself from focusing on how stupid I felt. I’d acted like an absolute maniac over nothing.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said, placing his hand on top of mine.

  And that’s what really did it for me. I’d spent my life hearing empty I’m sorrys, vacant words that carried no actual meaning. It had gotten to the point where the sound of the words made me want to kick a wall just so I could feel something out of it. With Kellen it was different. Kellen was different. He didn’t say words he didn’t mean and the emotion was always right there, visible for anyone to see.

  “I’m sorry I wouldn’t listen,” I said. “And that I drove off in some random guy’s car. Nothing happened. I ended up bursting into tears while he was in a gas station and Bree had to come rescue me.”

  “I know. Bree showed up at Dr. Windemere’s office on Wednesday and told me about it. She wanted me to know you were okay. I think she really cares about you, Carson.”

  I sat there thinking about that. Bree went to my shrink’s office just to tell Kellen I hadn’t run away with a creep? I mean, I was glad she did, but it was jus
t so weird to think about – Bree being my friend again.

  “I don’t know,” I said. Kellen didn’t push the subject.

  We sat there for a few minutes without saying a word. Kellen’s hand was still on mine.

  “Sooo,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “Are you still mad at me?”

  I thought about that question, turning it over in my head. There were times in life when people would want a second chance. There was a difference between asking and demanding for the chance to change though. The beautiful thing was, I got to be the one to choose who I’d give it to.

  “No,” I said, flipping my hand over and intertwining my fingers in Kellen’s. “I’m not mad.”

  Kellen’s smile made my heart flip and fall face down in my chest.

  “Good,” he said. “Tony will be happy.”

  “Tony?” And then it hit me. “I missed dessert before dinner.”

  I’d completely forgotten about our tradition, what with me having been busy wallowing in self-pity.

  “Yeah, when I came home alone yesterday he started asking about you.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him that I did something stupid and hurt your feelings,” Kellen said. “He was really mad at me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. He asked what I did to make you upset and when I told him that I hugged Kinsley he threw a pancake at my face.”

  “He threw a pancake at your face?” I could feel a smile cracking across my own face.

  “It’s not funny,” Kellen said, grinning. “I had just set a plate in front of him and the next thing I knew I had a chocolate chip pancake smacking me in the nose. I think I still have syrup in my nostrils.”

  I completely busted out into giggles.

  “Anyways,” Kellen continued, “Tony didn’t like Kinsley very much.”

  “He didn’t?” I tried to sound all nonchalant about this and keep the smugness out of my voice, but I know I failed miserably. Kellen smirked at me.

  “No, he didn’t. Kinsley didn’t really like germs and Tony was six so he was a nose-dripping, booger-picking, mouth-drooling germ factory. Kinsley always avoided him and Tony noticed. He might have been six but he wasn’t stupid. One time he came inside covered in mud and walked over and gave Kinsley a hug. I thought she was going to die. I’m pretty sure Tony did that just to piss her off.”