Drowning

by Margaret McHeyzer

  My skin pebbles with goose bumps, a blanket of ice thrown over me. He told me he’d leave if I lie. And I don’t want to lie. “Are you?” I deflect his question.

  “No, I’m not.” We fall silent for what seems like an eternity. “But you are,” he says. It’s not a question, it’s not an accusation, it’s confirmation that he knows. He sits on the bed and gently lays his hand on my leg. Can he feel the ridges of my scars?

  It takes me a long time to lift my chin and look into his eyes. And when I do, I can see the clear disappointment etched on his handsome face. I don’t need to say anything at all. He knows.

  Lowering my head, I look down at my bandages.

  “I need to hear you tell me the truth,” he’s almost whispering.

  “I can’t,” I return in a low voice.

  “Please, Ivy. I can’t be with someone who won’t tell me the truth,” he pushes again.

  With a small nod, I confirm what he’s asking. I can’t bring myself to say it out loud, though. “Please, don’t tell anyone,” I beg in a whisper. “This is something I’ve never told anyone, ever.”

  “Ivy.” He squeezes my leg, forcing me to look up at him. “You have to get help.”

  “No, I don’t need help. I’m not crazy,” I instantly defend myself.

  “I didn’t say you were. But if you’re cutting, you need help to figure out why and find a way to stop.”

  “Please, Tobias, please don’t say anything,” I plead. “People won’t understand, no one will understand.”

  “You’re wrong. People will understand. And you can get help.”

  “I’m not crazy,” I argue in a sharp voice.

  “Why do you keep saying that? Of course, you’re not crazy. But obviously, something is going on that you don’t know how to cope with.”

  “That’s dumb. What wouldn’t I know how to cope with?” I smartly retort.

  “To start with, Mrs. Richards’s death.”

  He’s right, that’s something I still can’t quite wrap my mind around. “You know…” I start saying as I look away from him. “It’s like I wasn’t even there, even though I know I was.”

  “A blur. I know. I’m not sure what to think either. The police have been asking questions of everyone in the class, as well as Tyler’s friends.”

  “Jared,” I say. “Is he okay? Have you talked to him?”

  “I tried calling him last night, but he’s not answering his phone. His mom did though. She said he’s not coping well.”

  “I have to call him.” Scrambling I look for my phone, but it’s not here. Why would it be? I left everything in the classroom, and I don’t know if Dad’s retrieved it or if the police have released it yet.

  “Here.” Tobias offers me his phone. “I had mine on me when…” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “…when Tyler entered the room.”

  “Mine’s in my bag, which I assume is still in the classroom.” Taking his phone, I dial Jared’s number. It rings out. I try again, it rings out again. “Can I send him a text?” I ask. Tobias nods. I start typing a message, but I’m not sure what to say. I can only imagine what Jared’s going through. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Ask him how he’s doing. You don’t have to tell him you’re here.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “I went to your house to see you, and see how you were doing, because your dad took you away from school while the police were still asking me questions. I wasn’t sure where you were or how you were doing. I was concerned. When I got to your house, your dad was in a panic and scrambling to get you clothes I asked to see you, and he told me you were here.”

  “Did he tell you why?” My face reddens, because I’m so embarrassed.

  “He told me you were hurt. It took a lot of convincing for him to tell me how you were hurt.”

  Shamefully I look down. My entire body is fighting with me. I’m filled with humiliation. I want to say something, but I choose not to. There’s not much I can say about what I did. I can’t share with anyone why I did it.

  “Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come straight over.”

  The stupid tears start again. I lift my shoulders and shrug. I don’t know why. There’s no logical reason to any of it, except my demon’s control over me.

  Tobias can see me struggling to answer his question, thankfully he stops pushing for an answer. “You have to know; the press is hounding all of us who were in class yesterday.”

  “Maybe Jared’s not answering his phone because he doesn’t want to deal with the questions.”

  “They’ve been outside my house. And there were a couple outside your house when I got there.”

  “Did anyone follow you here?” I ask suddenly incredibly conscious of what might be waiting outside the hospital walls.

  “No, no one followed me. I was careful.”

  “Tobias,” I say in a small voice. “How are you so strong? I saw a boy I’d known for years, someone who was quiet and just studied. He walked into our classroom, and killed our teacher. I can’t get over the look in his eyes. He wasn’t angry, he was more than that. He was different. Like he was possessed but in a calm way.”

  “That makes no sense. How can someone be possessed but in a calm way?”

  “He had a calmness to him, but he was stone cold. I don’t think anyone could’ve said or done anything to change his mind about pulling the trigger.”

  “I had my head down. I wasn’t looking at him,” Tobias says.

  “I saw it all. Every step he made, every movement, every breath. I’m not sure I can ever forget his emotionless eyes.”

  “When something like this happens, you’re never supposed to forget it. You’re supposed to learn to live with it and from time to time, you’re supposed to honor it.”

  “How can I honor someone who walked in, and shot a person in cold blood, in front of us all? Did he care how this would screw me up? How it might screw us all up? Why should I honor him?”

  “I’m not talking about Tyler, Ivy. I’m talking about you, me, and everyone in that classroom who survived, and Mrs. Richards. We all went through the same thing. For those few moments, no one knew if Tyler was going to turn the gun on all of us. We’re all bound together by something tragic.”

  “You know…” I start saying while staring at the blanket. “You hear so much about gun related crimes. People opening fire on innocent people and killing them for no reason. How many times do you turn on the news and hear about a massacre? But never in a million years did I think I was going to be part of such a massacre. Tyler was someone I had known for years, just like Mrs. Richards, who has… had been part of our school for longer than I have been. How do I rationalize that a kid I’ve known for years went out and on purpose bought a weapon? How do I justify him thinking it’s okay to take someone’s life, that it was her fault he got caught doing something awful?”

  “It’s not up to you to make an excuse for his behavior.”

  “How do I go on with my life if I can’t understand this?’

  “You need help, Ivy. We all need counselling.”

  “Here we go again,” I shout at him. “You’re calling me crazy.”

  “Here you go again. No one is calling you crazy but you! And because you’re so passionate about it, I think you think you’re crazy,” Tobias replies angrily.

  Wait. Do I? “Wh…” I’m not sure what to say. I pull my shoulders back and stare at Tobias straight in the eyes. “So, what’s your story then?” I challenge him. He’s pushing me, and I’m sure as hell not going to sit here and spill my life out to him when he won’t share the same with me. Especially considering he’s told me he loves me.

  “I don’t have a story,” he quickly deflects.

  “Now I’m the one who’s going to call bullshit.”

  His brows draw in together while his jaw tenses. I can see he’s lying. And he knows he’s lying. “I’m not lying about anything.” He looks away from me, and I know he’s not tell
ing me the truth.

  “Just like you, Tobias, I’m not going to put up with someone who lies to me. You say you love me, but you’re not willing to open up to me.”

  “I can’t,” he says in a rough tone. It breaks on the last syllable.

  “Hmm,” I huff while shaking my head.

  “What?” he snaps.

  “Funny how I’m supposed to bare my soul to you, tell you about this,” I lift my wrists to him, “but you won’t say anything to me. It seems peculiar to me that everything you’re saying is something a counselor would say to someone. Either you’ve been through something like this in the past, or you’ve been through something similar. So, which is it, Tobias? You can’t have it all your way. I’ve given you something, now you need to give me something.”

  “What do you want to know?” he answers with a tight voice. He’s on the defensive, and I doubt I’m going to get anything out of him.

  “I want to know how you know all these things? How you’re not freaking the fuck out? How you’re not rattled by what happened?”

  “I don’t know,” his words shake.

  “That’s not an answer, and you know it.”

  Tobias abruptly stands and paces back and forth. The door opens, and Dad enters holding a brown cup and a paper bag. He quickly realizes the air is thick with stress. “Is everything okay in here?” he asks as he approaches the bed and stands in front of me, blocking Tobias’s view of me. What Dad’s doing is putting up a barrier, one where he thinks he’s either defusing the situation, or he’s protecting me.

  “We’re fine, Dad,” I say in a gentle voice. “We’ve been talking.”

  “Is that right, Tobias?” Dad asks menacingly.

  “Dad, everything’s fine.”

  Dad doesn’t turn to look at Tobias, but I can see how his shoulders are higher, and his chest is puffed out in protective mode.

  “I think it’s best I leave,” Tobias says.

  “I think so too.” Dad moves forward so Tobias can’t maneuver around him to come to me.

  I see Tobias try, but Dad moves to block his access. “I’ll… come back later.”

  “I suggest you don’t, son.”

  Tobias flashes a look to me, and I can see how hurt he is. I want to speak out and tell Dad to back off, but at the same time, maybe time apart will do us both a world of good.

  “’Bye,” Tobias says as he opens the door and looks back at me.

  I smile at him.

  He gives Dad a nod and smiles at me.

  When the door closes, Dad makes his way over to me. “What happened?” he asks.

  “We had a fight.” I don’t want to tell him why, because one question will lead to another, and I’m not ready for any of them.

  “About?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Everything and nothing.”

  Dad smiles. “Young love… to have that again.” But I don’t smile, and Dad picks up on the heaviness inside me. “Hey, are you two breaking up?” he asks in a serious voice.

  “I don’t know. You caught us in the middle of an argument.”

  “What was it about? Maybe an old man like me can help.”

  Shaking my head, I smile at Dad. “It’s okay, Dad; we’ll figure it out.”

  Dad sighs and places his drink and the paper bag on the small table at the foot of the bed. He comes to sit beside me and clasps my hand in his. “Please tell me he’s not pressuring you to have sex, because now is not the time or the place…”

  “NO!” I shout cutting off what Dad was going to say. Embarrassment floods me. This is not a conversation I ever want to have with my father. Ever. “No, Dad. We weren’t arguing over sex. He hasn’t once tried to pressure me into anything. And before you ask, no, we haven’t had sex either.”

  Dad lets out another huge sigh, relief rolling off him. “It’s not that I’m stupid and think you’ll never have it, but…”

  “Stop, please. I don’t want to talk to you about this. First, it’s not the time or place, and second, I know how the dynamics of a relationship works. And don’t worry, I’m stubborn. No one’s going to force me to do anything I don’t want to do.”

  Except Azael. He manages to get me to do so many things by promising the world and never delivering.

  “Phew.” Dad stands and makes his way over to the table, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. “I must say, I was worried when I came in.” Opening the brown paper bag, he takes out a muffin and breaks it into two. He holds a piece out to me, offering it.

  “Nah, I’m not hungry.” I turn over in the bed, and close my eyes.

  “Don’t go to sleep. Matthew told me the doctor is on her way.”

  “Okay.” I stay awake, because I need to be able talk to the doctor without losing my control and telling her about Azael.

  Although I’m concerned about the doctor, my attention is mostly focused on Tobias. He talks like he’s been part of something so immense he’s needed to talk to a psychologist. I know now he’s not a cutter. He told me and I honestly believe him.

  But what else could be so bad to force him to see someone about it?

  I’m forced to suspend my ruminations on Tobias when a small, dark-haired woman comes into the room. She’s wearing a long lab coat and carrying a binder. She smiles and walks to the bed.

  “Hello, Ivy. I’m Doctor Estrada. How are you doing today?” As she walks toward the bed, she’s looking at the contents of the binder. She glances up and switches her gaze to Dad. “Mr. Jones, would you mind leaving Ivy and I alone for a few minutes?” She’s still smiling, but Dad’s face is wearing a frown of anger.

  “I want to hear about my daughter’s condition, Dr. Estrada,” Dad stands and folds his arms on his chest.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, but according to our records, your daughter is eighteen, and according to state law, she’s in charge. I have some rather delicate things to discuss with her, and she may not want you present for the conversation.”

  “Ivy?” Dad looks to me. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “Please, Dad. Just for a little while.” His face doesn’t hide his hurt. He picks up his coffee and silently leaves the room.

  When he’s gone, the doctor sits in the chair next to the bed. “I’m the doctor who treated you when you came into the emergency room last night. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  I look at her, unsure of what to say. I can’t tell her how my demon made me do it; they’d lock me in the psych ward and pump me full of drugs.

  “Look, Ivy,” she says gently after several moments of silence. “I examined you thoroughly last night. I know you’ve been cutting yourself for a long time now.”

  A stifled sob escapes my throat. I don’t know how to feel about that part of my secret being exposed. Tobias guessing is one thing, but Dr. Estrada has seen the scars. She knows. I have no hope of denying it to her.

  “No one else knows?” she asks.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “I’ve seen your scars, Ivy. I saw how careful you’ve been in the past. What was different about last night?” Dr. Estrada’s voice is gentle, soft. She’s looking at me, not taking notes. I don’t see any signs of judgement in her face.

  “I…” Where to start? How much to tell? I feel lost. “You’re not going to tell my father about this, are you?”

  “No, Ivy. Our discussion is confidential.”

  “I started when I was thirteen. It was a way of coping with stress. I always felt so peaceful afterwards.” I take a deep breath and continue. “After what happened yesterday at school—you know about that, don’t you?”

  “Yes. We all know about that. I understand you tried to resuscitate your teacher. If there was any hope of her holding on, what you did would have been responsible for that. As it was, the damage was too extensive. There wasn’t anything you could have done to save her.”

  “It wasn’t just that. It was Tyler, too… I’ve known him since grade school. I wasn’t close to him, but still, I saw him kill h
imself. He spoke to me, just before he did it. He looked me in the eyes and said Mrs. Richards deserved to die. He knew he’d killed her. And Mrs. Richards… I saw her die. I literally saw her life leave her body. The whole thing was so shocking, so confusing… I just couldn’t cope with it.”

  “So you intended to end your life?”

  “I don’t know… everything was so strange. Maybe.”

  “Ivy, is there more to this than you’re telling me?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “Nothing.”

  Dr. Estrada is quiet for a few moments, just looking at me. Then she speaks, her voice warm and soft. “That’s a lot for anyone to handle. I can understand that. But the way you chose to deal with it was dangerous. You scared everyone who knows you. And the fact you’re talking to me the way you are, I don’t believe you really meant to end your life.” She stands and takes my hand. “Unfortunately, because you attempted suicide, the law is involved. You will need to stay here for seventy-two hours, what’s called a psychiatric hold. We have to bring in mental health professionals to evaluate your mental state and determine if you’re still a danger to yourself.

  “Try not to think of it as a type of jail. Instead, talk to our psychiatrists and see if they can help you understand what happened and your reaction to it. Use the time to get your equilibrium back. I’ll explain to your father about the psychiatric hold, but I won’t share your cutting or our discussion with him.”

  I nod, not looking at her. What can I do now? I’m going to be forced to speak to shrinks, whether I want to or not. Will they be able to see my demon? Will Dr. Estrada really keep my secrets from Dad?

  I realize I can’t answer these questions, and I have no choice in any of this. “Thank you.”

  She leaves me alone, and Azael pops into my mind. You can’t tell them, Ivy. It’s our secret. No one else can know. For once, Azael and I have the same goal.

  After doing my time in the hospital, I’ve been home for three days. I haven’t been back to school. I’m not ready to be reminded of what happened. Jared’s on his way over, and for some reason my heart is beating like crazy. Talking to the “mental health professionals” didn’t help with anything. They asked generic questions, and had the gall to ask, in veiled ways, whether Dad abused me. That made me angry, and I told them so. They asked about my dreams, about my memories of my mother, all sorts of things. They listened to me describe what happened when Tyler attacked Mrs. Richards, but didn’t offer anything to help me make sense of it. In short, it was three wasted days, and made me surer than ever that I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone else in the mental health field.