by G. V. Steitz
Ivy got quiet all of a sudden. “What are you thinking about?” I asked her looking down at her. “I was just thinking that maybe if you want to be friends, we can keep it a secret. That way no one will give you a hard time for talking to me and trying to ‘pretend’ to be nice to me, and no one will bother me, accusing me of stealing you from anyone because we don’t congregate in the same social circles.” Ivy said looking sad, but still trying to convince me she is really happy with her fake smile. “Are you embarrassed by me Ivy?” I ask trying to tease her. “What? You have to be kidding, you would probably be embarrassed with people knowing you talk to me.” I let out a long sigh after she told that. “Listen to me,” I began with, picking up her hand, placing it between both of mine. “I am the one who mistreated you. You haven’t been mean to anyone. Yet the stupid assholes I am friends with seem to think you are some sort of punching bag. Granted, I am as much to blame as they are. However, I refuse to continue to do that to you, as well as stand by and allow any one else to. Ok?” I say gently and pull her hand up to my lips and lay a kiss on her knuckles. Ivy still looking around trying to not look at me, still twisting around and fidgeting. “Fine, if you want to keep our friendship a secret for now, I won’t say anything, but if anyone bothers you and I hear about it, heads will roll. Ok?” I ask Ivy, hoping that soothes her worries. “Ok. Thank you Dominic.” She says finally looking back up at me. “Now, let’s find us a movie.” I offer, pulling out my phone.
We both easily agree on a movie. The latest James Bond movie we decided on and it was great. We both like 007 movies, and we both love chocolate. So we loaded our arms with chocolate things and jumped into our theater viewing room and found us our seats. Both of us, completely engrossed in the movie, it was really great. Once we left, Ivy said she needed the rest room, so I dropped her off there and told her I would meet her at the door of the theater. I was happy how the night went. I think Ivy was a really genuinely sweet girl and really wore her big heart on her sleeve. I find myself looking out at the parking lot through the glass doors, waiting for Ivy and I hear familiar voices. I close my eyes and bow my head down. I rake my hand over my face and curse under my breath as I turn around, slapping a smile on my face, praying these moron’s leave or Ivy takes a long time.
“Bro, what cha up to? I didn’t know you were here. Who you with?” Tyler spewed out all in one breath trying to get details on my date.
“Come on man, it’s not like that. Just went and seen a movie is all.” I said watching the ladies room door and the door I wanted to get Ivy out of with out anyone giving her a hard time.
“Look who it is, our fearless leader in the flesh.” Lena sang out as she walked over with her little gal pals from her squad. “Hey Lena.” I said with a nod. We all fell into a conversation and I looked up and seen Ivy. Fuck, she didn’t look good. She started walking towards us, and didn’t make eye contact with me or anyone else.
“Hey guys, look who is hear. Hi Ivy.” I said, trying to keep my promise to her about keeping our friendship a secret.
“Oh good Lord, Ivy did you really come here alone? Don’t you have an dignity? On date night of all days. Isn’t that sad?”
“Lena, shut the fuck up.” After I said that she twisted her neck to look at me so fast, I could of sworn it was going to just spin off her shoulders like one of the toys “tops.”
“Hey Ivy, you need a ride?” I offered, which just caused Lena to hackle herself into hysterics. “Oh good Lord! Dominic, please don’t sink to her level. You are so much better than that.” Lena said as she motioned her hands around in disgust. “Go one, poison Ivy girl, we don’t need you tonight.” Lena said pretty terrible and it made me sick I was acting like that as well. “Lena, I sweat to Christ, you are so fucking lucky I am a God fearing man and I don’t hit women. If I did, I would have knocked you on your ass, a long, long time ago. Leave me alone.” I grinded out through my twitching jaw. Ivy just took off out side and I was really pissed. “Lena, WTF… She was with me you bitch.” I spit at her. “You have joke to be kidding. Dude; get out now while you have you have a chance. That Ivy chic is dangerously close to wanting to slide up and down your body.” Tyler explained, actually looking back at me, like he just shared a very philosophical mind blowing result from a test study.
“No, you listen, dude. I am no longer playing this stupid child’s game with you two. Pull it together will you please? Ivy does have feelings, she is a real person. I personally begged her to forgive my childish behavior. And what about the two of you? Feeling proud of yourselves for breaking down the new girl? Fuck, I didn’t know how terrible we have really been. Now, if you can excuse me, I have someone to catch up with.” I said through a very watchful eye. That comment got both of them tongue tied. And I was happy I stood up for Ivy.
I took off, flying into a movie theater. I looked around to see if she was in the parking spot we pulled into. DAMN IT!
Chapter 3.
Ivy
Don’t Wake Me if I am Dreaming
I cannot believe what a dumb ass I am. As soon as I seen them all talking, I needed to get out of there quickly. First, not to embarrass myself. Second, not to upset or embarrass Dominic. I wanted this to stay between us, and he goes and acts nice, wanting to chat with them. WTF! Now, I finally got through the parking lot, and I am jumping between trees and bushes so no one can see me. Especially Dominic. I’m actually not too sure of where I really am, since I only go to school and back home. Who the hell cares? Ah… That would be no one. I start my walk of shame, hoping to find something I recognize and also, to really think. Think about things I have been considering for a while. I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want to think I am trying to get attention. I only write in my journal and no one can find that. I wear boots a lot because no one can see what I do to myself. Addicted to cutting. Cutting is something I do to relieve the pain inside of me, by inflicting a different form of pain on the outside. It’s actually pretty soothing. Feeling physical pain, is easier to deal with than psychological pain. The pain I feel in my heart, I can barely deal with day to day. The physical pain I feel that I do to myself, is nothing compared to what I carry around inside of me.
My father doesn’t like to hear of my idea of going to see a head doctor. He thinks they put more ideas in your head and just cost money to do nothing but give someone more things to work through and some sort of snowball effect of needing constant therapy. Personally I think that is horse shit, but since he carries my insurance and I am not 18 yet, I don’t really have a choice.
Which brings me to think about after high school. If I were to stick around, what really would I do? I don’t really have any interests. I am sick of hurting inside. I try to mind my own business and still people just bother me. Why am I not likable? I mean, can’t people be nice and try to get to know you first? Then if you turn out to be a total bitch, then hate them.
I like thinking about dying. I like planning how to do it. I like thinking about no longer being sad, or lonely. Even if there is nothing after death, and it’s just dirt and darkness. At least I won’t have to be made fun of every day. Sometimes I wish and pray for a disease. Why did Mitch have to die? Everyone loooooved him. He was everyone’s favorite. He treated me like I was the best thing since apple pie. Why couldn’t I be the one to get sick and die? No one would even notice if I were gone. I barely see my own mother. My father forgets to even call me to say Happy Birthday.
No, I need to think about how I can kill myself. To be honest, it’s the only time I don’t feel like crying. I actually get excited to plan it. To dream of how I can make everyone feel good or terrible that I am gone. And then there is Mitchell. Maybe I will get to see him again. Maybe I can talk with him again if I wasn’t still here.
I find it actually comical that no one worries about me. I have shown such maturity dealing with my parents divorce and my brother dying they all think I am strong like bull and don’t need anyone to make a big deal over me. Funny how much I enjoy
ed being held by Dominic on my birthday under the bleachers. And tonight fun too. I am really amazed at how many times my mind goes back to thinking of 500 ways to kill yourself every day. Like now, walking around who knows where. I could lay on the train tracks. I could jump in front of a truck. I could lay out here in the cold until I freeze to death. And then I think of what sort of pain I would feel for each way. I could poison myself. I could slit my wrists, or hang myself. Jump off a building, or over dose. Put a plastic bag over my head or drown myself. Ah… The possibilities. Then I feel bad that I want to do it. I keep trying to convince myself it’s the best thing to do. Find the easiest way. The least amount of pain. Over dose, or letting a car fill with carbon monoxide.
Alcohol poisoning. I don’t know.
As I was walking around, who knows where, I find a park and run off to go into it. There is a park light on. So at least I can see where I am in the park. I head over to the swings. Swings bring back good memories.
Mitchell used to pick me up from middle school. I chuckle at the memories of them. All my girl friends were in love with him. Mitchell always made a fuss over me. He would take me to the park, and we would have races on the swings to see who could go the highest or fastest. Sometimes we had marathons throughout the park play areas. Like ten swings, jump off, 5 slides down the slide. Run over to the monkey bars, cross twice and slide into the flag pole. I know Mitchell usually let me win. God, I miss him.
I guess I didn’t realize how deep in thought I was in because I never heard anyone coming up to me. I was just twisting around on the swing, kicking at the rocks, thinking about Mitch and offing myself. Dead people and death. How positive is that for a 17 year old. I laughed at myself.
I looked up and seen Dominic leaning against the flag pole. He had his one foot crossed over the other leg, and his arms folded over his chest. Watching me. I flinched a little because he just startled me.
“You scared me. Why didn’t you say something?” I ask him without moving away or even looking at him.
“Because if I did, you would probably take off and run away again.” Dominic answered.
I just nodded, not paying too much attention. We both are quiet for a couple minutes and I just get up, and start walking towards the parking lot. I might as well put him out of his misery and let him take his pity date home. It was nice while it lasted. Time to get Cinderella home. I laugh to myself. Cinderella. Ha.
Dominic catches up to me, and once we get to the car, he opens my door and I throw myself in. He walks around to his side and jumps in. He kicks on the heat and we let the car warm up for a minute, and I feel like I am thawing at least.
“what am I going to do with you Ivy?” Dominic says as he clicks his seat belt on, staring at me, waiting I assume for me to “buckle up.” getting thrown from a car, or throwing myself out of one is a couple more ideas to put on my lists of 500 ways…
I shrug, “I guess what you are going to do is take me home, and end your little pity date. Which, by the way, I did have a good time. Thanks for taking my mind off of, well, everything for a few hours. It was really nice of you.” I say, trying not to make too much out of anything. I need to keep telling myself this isn’t real. Or a serious friendship. Or date. It would be nice if it was a date though.
“That is not what I meant Ivy. In fact, I am not planning on leaving you alone right away. We can go back to your place or you can come by mine. Pick one.” Dominic states firmly.
I just glare at him from the corner of my eye. I turn my head and look out the window. Trying not to make too much out of anything. “Please just drop me off at my place. I am fine, you don’t have to stay. Really. Thanks though.” I say in my usual standard fashion. I admit I have noticed that when you relieve someone of the worry they have over you, they are more likely to move on and let it go. Sometimes I laugh at how many times I think of offing myself on some of those occasions thinking of how those people would be so shocked the next day if they heard I killed myself after they left. ‘She said she was fine. I had no idea.’
“Ok, you want to go to your place, no problem but I am not leaving.” Dominic informs me I am now lucky to be designated a babysitter. He keeps his eyes on the road, once in a while looks over to me. I can see his reflection in the passenger window I am starting out. Not saying anything. Secretly, I am happy he wants to hang out for a little, then I feel sad because I don’t think he will remember any of this come next Monday in school. I want to open up, but why bother? It’s not like I can act like we are friends there.
“Fine, whatever you want.” I finally spit out, not trying to seem the least bit interested.
After a fifteen minute ride in silence, we pull up to my apartment and I pull myself to get out and I motion to open my door, and Dominic is standing right at my side. “Are you worried that I will take off again on your watch? Look, you dropped me off, I am no longer your responsibility, now you are free to go. I release you from babysitting service.” I stand there, still looking into his beautiful bright sea green eyes and get lost in them a moment. I break away from the sparkle he shows through them, and walk around him to head to my front door.
“Hey, wait.” Dominic says as he grabs my hand, and tugs at me to turn back around to face him. I stop for a moment, slowly turn, still not holding his hand back, he stares back at me again. “I had a really good time tonight. I don’t want to force you to have me over. I mean I understand you being alone and everything, but I don’t know… Don’t you want to just hang out?” He asks sounding sweet. Not so sure if its sincere, but very nice and thoughtful at least.
“Really, I’m great. Thanks for tonight. I really thought it was sweet of you to fill in tonight for Mitchell. I know he would be happy to see how thoughtful that was of you. Now, you need to get going. I am sure you have something going on tomorrow or practice and everything.” I squeeze his hand that is still wrapped around mine and pull myself away and begin to walk towards my door. Convinced another one I am all candy and roses once again. I let myself in and turn the light on in the house, and the porch light off. I quickly run into my bedroom and peek out the blinds to see if he left with out turning my bedroom lights on. Then he won’t see me looking. Hmm, still there. What the hell is this guys deal? He closed the car door I got out of, but is leaned up on it now, staring at my house with his hands shoved in his jean pockets. He bends his neck to either side, looks like he is cracking it, scrubs his face with the palm of his hand and runs it then through his awesome sexy hair a couple time. Finally he looks down at his feet, and slowly turns and walks around his side of the car and gets in.
I let out a held breath of air I didn’t realizing I was holding. Part of me is feeling relieved and calm now he finally left and believed me. And then there is part of me that feels sad because of the same reasons. I pull myself from my blinds and go over to my stereo and hit repeat on my newest favorite song by Kelly Clarkson, Dark Side. Heading for the bathroom, I get ready to jump into the shower.
I stand in the shower for a little bit. Looking over my veins. Looking over at my feet I peel and cut. I need to cut. I need to feel that instead of what I feel inside. After I wash myself and my hair, I get out and wrap a towel around myself. Throwing one around my wet hair and sit down on the bathroom rug and pull out a razor I have hidden in the bottom drawer. My hand is shaking, I want to do this really badly. I need to do this. I drag the razor across the side of my foot. Making sure to reopen one of the same cuts I made in the past so I don’t make more scars. It feels like I am letting out the bad blood. Or Cutting off the dead part of me. The poison in my blood spilling out, relieving me of my pain I hold inside. I watch the blood drip down my foot to the rug where I laid the towel from my hair on. I watch it spill out and its almost like a wave of calmness washes over me. I move up to my inner thigh on my right leg. I’m left handed, seems easier for some reason to do the same right foot and the right leg. I find a line that has been covered awhile with a fresh scar and reopen that one. This time I
leave the cuts opened and uncovered or cleaned up. I wonder as I leave the water running in the tub, the steam filling the bathroom with humidity and fog, if it would thin my blood to flow more. I wonder how much blood I can loose with a couple long cuts? I put the razor on the counter and with the towel still wrapped around me, and no one here but me until tomorrow night, who cares where I sleep. I turn up listen the stereo, this song really hits me in the gut. I lay down in a fetal position to make myself into a ball on the towel covered rug keeping the wounds open, hoping this will be good practice to see if this works slowly or if the blood just dries up. With the wet air in here, it might keep draining. Just practicing is all. This isn’t that last time. Nope, not just yet. I just need some relief. After awhile, I begin to get sleepy, and I move to see that my leg and foot are still bloody. Its not gushing or anything but a little trickle seems good. At least I can bleach the towel. No big loss, no one will know. I dose off, eye lids heavy with sleep. And once I close my eyes to sleep, I open them to dream.
I find myself running the track at school again. No one is around, it must still the weekend and its really wet and foggy out. I feel like I have run 10 miles already. I can barely keep up the same fast pace I have been doing, but I don’t want to stop. I want to stop only when I am forced to by passing out. I hear someone calling in the distance… I keep running thinking its not for me so I just continue on my run. As I continue my run, feeling the humidity spraying across my face, breathing in the smell of early morning I hear the calling of someone and then I see Mitchell I suddenly stop in front of the bleachers and he is sitting there, leaning against the railing looking like he always did when he was healthy and happy. “Is that you Mitch?” I ask. I ran over to him and jumped into his arms, slamming myself against his body. “Whoa! What are you trying to kill me?” He wraps his arms around me, I squeeze him really hard, my legs wrapped around his body. “Are you really here? Are you really talking to me? Did I die? Please don’t leave me Mitch. I miss you so much. I can’t do it anymore. I need you Mitch, please let me stay with you, please don’t leave me. You are the only one who ever cared about me. I move my hands all over his back and head. I squeeze his shoulders. “You feel real.” I say through my tears. “Can you hear me?” I ask still hanging on to his body, wrapped around him like gum on a flag pole. “Mitch I don’t want to live alone anymore. I don’t want to be away from you anymore. No one loves me. Please let me stay. Please… I promise to do anything you say. I won’t bother you. I will do anything.” I cry, begging.