Pieces of Me

by Tich Brewster

  Covering my face with my hands, I lower myself down to the floor, my back sliding along the cabinets. Once I’m sitting on the floor, I pull my knees up to my chest and hug my legs.

  Eryc squats next to me, snatching the razor off the floor and tossing it in the trash. He blows out a breath. “Kay, how long has this been going on?”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, tears fall. It seems that is all I have done here lately is cry like a crazy loon. I have become that girl, the one who sits around and constantly cries. Eryc leans forward and swipes away my tears with his thumbs.

  I can’t bear to look at him and see pity or even loathing. Epic failure, that’s me. God, what he must think of me. I have screwed up my life in so many ways. The course I have allowed for myself has left me in so many shattered pieces. Now it seems that Eryc is the one who has resigned to picking them up. He will never be able to fix me, I’m not sure why he is trying.

  Eryc pinches my chin and lifts my gaze to his. “Look at me, Kay.”

  I shake my head because I can’t bear to see what expression he is wearing.

  Keeping my chin pinched between his fingers, he repeats, “Look at me, Kay.” When I finally open my eyes, he asks, “How long have you been cutting yourself?”

  I try to shake my head but he has a good grip on my chin. The last thing I want to do is admit how long I have been cutting myself. It is like admitting out loud how big of a failure I am.

  This was a secret that he was never supposed to discover. The preacher’s son, a boy so pure and sin free, he never should have seen this. Now he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am not innocent. I am nothing but a sinner, a big fat sinner.

  Now he knows that I enjoy the white-hot pain that occurs when I slit my skin, not because it brings me joy but because of the reprieve it offers.

  “How long, Kay?” The tone of his voice is still kind but it also holds a warning. He wants an answer and he wants it now.

  I swallow down the lump that has formed in my throat. “Since July.”

  “Oh God, Kay.” His words are whispered and pained.

  When I burst into tears and a strangled cry erupts from my throat, he slips his arm under my knees and lifts me effortlessly from the floor. Cradling me against his chest, he carries me to my room and sits on the bed with me still in his arms.

  Burying my face in his shirt, I continue to cry. The tighter he holds me, the less I care about what he thinks of me. I am broken, nothing but fragments of what I once was. Wrapped up in his embrace, I let it all out.

  “I can’t do this anymore.” My voice is muffled by his shirt.

  Eryc is definitely seeing me at my worst. I guess if we can get through this, we can get through anything. Stroking my hair, he hums a familiar tune and starts rocking me like a mother rocks her infant. The tenderness he shows me hits me straight in the gut and causes me to fall apart even further in his arms.

  As I cry, I realize one thing. Regardless of how terrifying it may be, I need to confide in my longtime friend. Eryc has proven himself over and over again. He is the one person that I can lean on and entrust my life to.

  I’m scared. No, I’m terrified, but he has to know. I have been drowning for far too long and if I don’t get help now, my life will just spiral further out of control.

  If I don’t get the help I so desperately need, I will end up committing suicide.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Eryc

  An hour. That is how long Makayla sat in my arms and cried. I thought for sure that either Thaddeus or my aunt would come barging in to see what all the ruckus was about, but they didn’t.

  No one even knocked on the door.

  Now Makayla is sitting next to me on the edge of her bed and is confiding all of her deepest, darkest secrets. Though I read her journal, she fills me in on her depression due to the sexual abuse and how that depression soon led to her cutting herself. “I never once sliced my skin in visible places. You know, like on the wrists or forearms. I didn’t want anyone to know there was anything wrong with me. I’ve always cut my upper thighs.”

  I have to admit, when I spied her in the bathroom with her pants down to her mid-thighs, I noticed all the scarring and fresh wounds. There were so many of them. She must have been cutting herself every day.

  “God.” I rub my hand down my mouth as I absorb her pain filled words. “I wish you would have come to me. I wish you had trusted me enough to let me in.” Blowing out a breath, I look into her eyes. “You should have never gone through that alone.”

  “I didn’t want people to think I was messed up. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to admit that you’re broken? I didn’t want to be viewed as less than human.”

  Less than human?

  That’s how she felt? Fear of being seen as less than human is the reason why she didn’t come to any of us for help?

  She is so loved by so many people. I wish she would have understood that none of us would have judged her.

  Who am I to judge, anyway. I’m dang sure not perfect, I have my own downfalls.

  “Anyway, the longer I allowed Brandt to abuse me, the worse my depression became. The deeper the depression, the more often the cutting. There finally came a point, the night Brandt shared me with Lee, that I couldn’t take anymore. That was the night that I began to crave the one thing that promised me freedom from my shackles.” She lowers her head as if she is ashamed of the words exiting her mouth.

  I sit back and wait for her to explain further.

  “Suicide. I wanted to end my life so the pain would go away. No more life, no more pain. You know?”

  Listening to her retell her suffering is hard, bile rises in my throat and I have to swallow it down. No girl, no matter who she is, should ever have to endure even a fraction of the abuse that Makayla has. To top it all off, she kept it all bottled up and allowed it to consume her.

  No more. I will not sit back and let her go through any more suffering without the proper support.

  “Jeez, Kay. Just hearing you say that word kills me.” Lifting her hand, I kiss her knuckles. “You are not alone, never again do I want you handling this kind of crap on your own.” Her bottom lip quivers and I know she is on the verge of more tears. “Promise me that you’ll let us in. Let me in.”

  “I promise.” She reaches over and takes hold of my hand. “When my world is falling apart and I can’t find my way, I’ll come to you. Always.”

  Progress.

  This next phase in her life is not going to be easy. It will take courage and patience. She needs help from professionals that can dissect her turmoil and show her how to deal with it in a healthy manner.

  Brushing a lock of hair away from her face, I ask, “You know what the next step is, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” She lets out a sigh. “It’s time to admit that I’m in trouble and accept help.”

  I nod my head and wrap my arm around her. “That’s my girl.”

  We sit in comfortable silence. I know she isn’t ready to talk to Rene and Thaddeus about her addiction, at least not yet. So, we are sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at her wall of posters.

  Next to her bedroom door is the only movie poster, Divergent. The other posters are a good mix of genres, but I see more Justin Timberlake than I do any other artist.

  Time drags by at a snail’s pace and when I dart my eyes to the clock on her nightstand, I realize that thirty minutes have passed since I carried her from the bathroom.

  Makayla follows my line of sight and sighs heavily when she sees how much time we have spent up here. “We should head down before they come searching for us,” she says.

  Yes, we should. I’m surprised that my aunt hasn’t come up here yet, demanding that we join them downstairs. And I thank God that she didn’t follow me up here, because Makayla would not have been able to handle that during her moment of weakness.

  I stand from the bed and offer my hand out to her. Placing her hand in mine, she allows me to pull her up from
the bed. Those sad eyes lock with mine and hatred swims in my veins. Hatred for Brandt and his two loser friends. Hatred for the idiot that kidnapped her. Hatred for the hand she has been dealt in life.

  I just want to rewind time and prevent evil from coming after her.

  I keep hold of her hand as we descend the stairs. Aunt Rene is where I left her, sitting on the coffee table with her hands covering her eyes. Those hands drop when the toe of my shoe squeaks on the hardwood floor.

  My aunt stands and crosses the distance to us. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Makayla.”

  Makayla’s fingers tighten around mine and I can hear her quick breaths. She is nervous, I can feel it in the way she is clinging to me like a lifeline.

  Instead of speaking to my aunt, Makayla motions toward the living room. “Is Thad still here?”

  “In here,” Thaddeus yells from the living room.

  Makayla takes a deep breath, holds it for five seconds and then blows it out. Those sad, green eyes lock with mine and she swallows loudly. “Here goes nothing.” Tugging on my hand, she leads us to the living room.

  My sweet girl doesn’t sit. She stands in the center of the living room, so she can look her brother and my aunt in the eye.

  Thaddeus is leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers steepled at his mouth.

  Neither of them says a word while Makayla confesses her struggle with wanting to end her life and finally confessing her battle with cutting.

  Thaddeus hops up from the sofa when she stops talking. “You told me—” He points his finger in her face. “That you were not cutting. What in the ever-loving blazes, sis? You lied to me.” Jamming his finger into his own chest, he repeats, “You lied to me. Me. Your freakin’ twin. Why? I love you.” He pauses and inhales a deep breath. “We are twins. I share a connection with you that no one else will ever have.” After yelling he storms out of the room.

  Seconds later, the backdoor slams with enough force to rattle the pictures hanging on the wall. Then his motorcycle races from the driveway.

  Watching him storm away in a fit of anger, breaks Makayla just a little more. Her entire body trembles and she is doing everything in her power to keep from crying out but it’s futile. The sobs come, and they come hard. Screaming out in pain, she falls to her knees and buries her face in her hands.

  I can’t handle seeing her in this much pain. Witnessing this is shattering my heart further. My nose burns with the onset of my own tears but I choke down my emotions because she needs me to be her rock. She needs me to help her pick herself back up and piece her broken heart back together.

  Aunt Rene stands but I wave her off. This is my girl and I want to be the one to console her. A piece of my heart is with her and I need to be the one comforting and healing her. No one else.

  Kneeling beside her, I wrap my arms around Makayla.

  Angling her body, she wraps her arms around me and buries her face in the crook of my neck and continues to sob. Tears soak my shirt and run down the collar, leaving a wet trail along my chest. I don’t care. I’ll take those tears and anything else she is willing to give me.

  “I’ll make a phone call to one of my colleagues. We’ll get her the help she needs.” Aunt Rene leaves the room with her cell phone in hand.

  Makayla’s sobs are loud and heartbreaking.

  Scooping her up, I carry her to the recliner and sit. I wrap my arms around her tightly and tuck her head under my chin. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” I repeat those words to her over and over until she drifts off to sleep.

  Resting is dang near impossible. Makayla wakes every half hour or so screaming with nightmares. At one point, I was afraid my aunt would have to give her a sedative to calm her enough to get some sleep.

  Nightmares of being held at gun point plague her dreams, she wakes constantly, begging for him not to shoot her. I know these nightmares terrify her to the point that she is too afraid to be alone. So here I am, sleeping upright on the recliner while she lays on my lap, clinging to me for dear life.

  Tomorrow morning, I am taking Makayla to see my aunt’s friend and colleague, Dr. Fuentez. This is the next step to Makayla’s recovery. Dr. Furntez specializes in depression and suicidal tendencies.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Makayla

  Four weeks later

  I have been in counseling for four weeks now, two days a week. Things are starting to look up for a change. My nightmares are still there but not nearly as bad as before. At least now, I am able to get five solid hours of sleep verses next to none.

  Dr. Fuentez is amazing. She not only sees me for private sessions, but she meets me for group therapy as well.

  At first, I hated group therapy, who in their right mind wants to air their dirty laundry in front of a room full of people? Not me, that’s for sure, but I’m glad Rene made me go. Surrounding myself with other people that struggle with the same battles I struggle with gives me hope. I am not alone and there are others out there that understand and are willing to help.

  I wave to Dr. Fuentez on my way out the door. Alesandra wraps her arm around mine as we exit the building.

  Alesandra is a girl I met here in group therapy. She has been in the group for six months. I was shocked that this beautiful young woman with a heart of gold used to cut herself.

  After my first group meeting, she took to me like a mother hen. I am so glad that she did. Having her to talk to, no matter the time of day, has been my saving grace.

  Eryc is still hanging around. As promised, he has not left me to deal with life by myself. He listens to me vent and offers advice, but Alesandra has been in my shoes and understands exactly what I am going through.

  No offense to Eryc, but he will never be able to help me the way Alesandra can.

  “Okay, girlfriend, I have a surprise for you.” Alesandra leans into me with a silly giggle.

  This girl always has a surprise for me. Some days its pizza, other days she takes me to the spa for a day of pampering. She is forever doing things for me. I think this is her way of keeping my mind occupied so I don’t slip back into that dark place. One thing I love about her, she is not shy to grab Eryc by the hand and drag him along on our girly outings.

  I pop a piece of gum in my mouth. “What kind of surprise?”

  “Uh, uh.” Pressing the key fob, she unlocks the doors to her Mazda. “Just text boyfriend and let him know you’ll be home in an hour.”

  Rolling my eyes is a natural response. Eryc is not my boyfriend. “Al, you know he isn’t my boyfriend, we’re just really good friends.”

  “Uh, huh.” She looks at me over the top of the car. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  Pulling out my cell phone, I shoot Eryc a text.

  Makayla: Hey, I’m hanging out with Al for bit. Be home in an hour.

  His response is almost immediate.

  Eryc: Okay. I’ll be here.

  A month ago, I had given him a key to my house. I figured since he spends all of his free time there keeping me company then he should at least have a key.

  “Did you text boyfriend?”

  “Yes.” I don’t even bother to correct, again. There is no arguing with this girl. Believe me, I have tried. She is dead set on Eryc and I being a couple. We’re not. I wish we were, but he has shown me no signs that he is interested in me as anything other than his best friend.

  Can’t Stop the Feeling blasts from the speakers and we are both singing along as loud as our voices will allow. This feeling of freedom and peace is wonderful. Now days, I am smiling and having fun. I didn’t think I would ever be able to have fun again. I am so very thankful that Rene pushed me toward counseling and didn’t take no for an answer.

  Turning onto Mingo, I continue to sing as we pass building after building, wondering where we are going. When the car slows I sit up and watch as we pull into a shopping center. It is after lunch, maybe we are going to eat sandwiches at the sub shop or burgers at the hamburger joint.
/>   “Come on, girlfriend.” Alesandra cuts the engine and exits the car, locking it when I follow suit.

  Confusion causes me to furrow my brows and purse my lips. We aren’t heading to either restaurant, we are headed to the shop directly between the two. Spaded and Jaded.

  “What are we doing here?”

  Spaded and Jaded is a tattoo shop and last time I checked, I wasn’t tattooed or looking to get a tattoo.

  “Just trust me, yeah?” Alesandra takes me by the hand and drags me behind her.

  The door opens with a jingle and a beautiful young woman greets us with a smile. “Hey, what can I do for ya?”

  Alesandra tugs me next to her hip once we reach the counter. “I came by yesterday with a sketch, the infinity and semicolon with the word hope scripted in.”

  The young woman’s face brightens and a huge smile forms, which sparkles in her beautiful brown eyes. “Yeah, I remember that one. I frickin’ love it.”

  “Thanks. It’s for my friend,” Alesandra nods her head toward me, “Makayla.”

  My eyes widen and I take a step back. “No. I don’t want a tattoo.” Finally noticing the tattoo sleeve on the young woman’s arm, I say, “No offense.”

  “Oh, none taken.” She looks between the two of us. “So, I assume this is a meaningful tattoo?” she asks Alesandra while tilting her head toward me in a silent question.

  “Yes.” Alesandra leans her hip on the counter and faces me. “Girlfriend, I sketched a design for you.” She lifts her left arm. On her wrist is a beautiful light blue tattoo of an infinity with the word hope scripted within the lines, and right smack in the center of the infinity is a semicolon. “The sketch I did for you is identical except yours is purple because I know how you love your purple.”

  It’s a beautiful tattoo but I don’t understand why she would think I would come in here and get a matching one. “I’m not sure why you thought I needed a tattoo.”