You're Not Worthless

by Kayaleah Bradley

  My eyelashes are coated with mascara to make my brown eyes pop, and just a little bit of eyeliner lines my top eyelid. I’m feeling good today. I’m feeling like I finally made it. I take one last look in the mirror in my bedroom, then head down the hallway.

  “You look beautiful, Kalani!” My mom exclaims from the bottom of the main staircase.

  “You look like a princess!” Skylar adds.

  “Thank you,” I say. Skylar smiles, then runs off down the hallway, towards the living room.

  “Are you sure you want to wear this dress?” My dad asks.

  “Dad, I’m fine,” I say, a little too defensively.

  “I’m just saying,” my dad begins. “If you’re uncomfortable you don’t have to do this.”

  “If I don’t show them now, I never will,” I explain. “I need to accept who I am and what I look like. These scars are a part of me.”

  My dad smiles in a way that makes it seem like he might be proud of my decision.

  This dress reveals every single scar that I’ve ever inflicted upon myself. They’ll forever be permanent-a part of me. I don’t love my scars, because the story behind them is ugly, but they do not define me.

  I​ make me beautiful-not my hair, not my face-just me. These scars are an unfortunate reminder that I’ve struggled with hardships. But they do not make me ugly, and they certainly don’t make me self-conscious. If anything, I’m stronger because of everything I’ve been through-not the other way around. So, today, I will share my story with my community. And maybe one day, I can share my story with the world.

  “Are you ready, then?” My mom asks. I nod, because it doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not. This is happening.

  “Then let’s go.”

  We take two cars to the college campus. Once we arrive, my family gives me one last hug, before we part ways. My family turns left at the entrance, to find a seat outside at the football field stadium.

  I turn right, to join my fellow classmates.

  “Kalani!” I hear from somewhere off to the left of me.

  Lucas is wearing a black dress shirt and black dress pants. A white tie is wrapped firmly around his neck.

  “You look beautiful!” Lucas says. He wraps his arms around me and squeezes.

  “You’re not looking so bad yourself,” I joke, hugging him back.

  “Really?” Lucas says, looking down at the floor. I look down too and I automatically know what he’s talking about.

  “I can’t walk in heels,” I say, looking down at my black converse sneakers.

  “I guess you get a pass,” Lucas says, rolling his eyes.

  “Do you have it?” I ask, too excitedly.

  “Oh, right!” Lucas says. He walks over to a table sitting against a wall, and picks up two plastic bags.

  “Here you go,” Lucas says, handing me a bag. “You wanted small right?”

  “Right,” I say. I stick my hand in my bag and pull out a white piece of clothing. I quickly open up the clothing and pull it over my body.

  My graduation gown.

  “And what about my cap?” I ask, zipping my gown up.

  “It’s sitting on the table,” Lucas says, slipping his gown over his body and zipping it up

  like I did.

  I look down at the table to see two graduation caps, sitting side by side. They’re the last two, because everybody else got here early.

  But my graduation cap is different. It’s black, and covered in different kinds of flowers.

  And right in the middle of the cap, is a quote:

  It always seems impossible, until it’s done.

  The truth is, there was a point in my life when I did want to die. There was a point in my life when I didn’t think it was possible to live any longer than I already had. I didn’t think it was possible to live, because life was messy; life was cruel; life was impossible. Another truth is that I’m still not okay, yet. And that’s okay. I’m still struggling. And that’s okay.

  But a third truth is this: life is always going to be messy. But it does get better. Maybe I’m still learning about this truth, and maybe it will take a long time for me to believe it. And that’s okay.

  Lucas lifts my cap up off of the table and gently places it on the top of my head. Then he places his cap where he wants it.

  “We made it,” Lucas says.

  “We made it,” I repeat.

  * * *

  The football stadium is completely filled with parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, and any other relative you could think of. Today, my entire family is here. Lucas’s parents sit right next to mine.

  Caden isn’t supposed to be here, and neither is Mia. Caden’s soccer team has a game today at a school that’s at least 45 minutes away. He was supposed to carpool with one of his friends on the team. And Mia was supposed to work a 12-hour shift, today. She would have missed the entire thing. The thing is, these events have been on the schedule for months. But a couple of weeks ago, both Caden and Mia decided that watching me graduate was far more important than whatever else they had planned.

  Nobody thought I was going to make it-including me. After everything that happened at school, and my suicide attempt, I didn’t think I could manage the grades to get this far. But here I am, ready to go to college. I didn’t fail any of my classes. In fact, I passed most of my classes with at least a B- just because I was able to finish all of make-up work and exams.

  Not to mention I basically put my brain through overload studying every single weekend. My point is, because of how much school I missed due to bullying, and my suicide attempt, I almost didn’t make it. I realized that if I didn’t give 200% effort, I’d have to repeat my senior year. I worked hard. I worked harder in the past three months than I ever thought possible.

  Some days I thought I wasn’t going to be able to do it. Some days I would cry from frustration. But some days, I felt victorious, because on those days, I remembered how much progress I was making. Today means more to me, because for a dark and terrifying moment, I didn’t think I was going to be alive to see this day. And neither did my family.

  That’s why Caden is missing his soccer game. That’s why

  Mia is missing work; because I’m alive. ​

  “Are you okay?” Lucas asks, shoving me in the shoulder.

  “Yeah,” I say, nodding, and I do mean it. I am okay.

  After a moment, Ms. Jones steps up onto the stage, which is positioned at the front of the

  field.

  “Please welcome,” she begins. “This year’s seniors of North Wood High School!” The orchestra begins to play a soft melody, and we begin.

  The line begins to move slowly, as people make their way down the aisle of chairs. Then people begin to find their seats.

  Lucas sits five rows ahead of me, at the very end.

  Once everyone has found their seats, the stadium falls silent.

  “Every year, on graduation day, it is tradition for the valedictorian of their class, to give a speech to their fellow classmates. This year, we’ve had a change of heart,” Ms. Jones explains. “So, please join me in welcoming Kalani Young, to the stage.”

  Everybody begins to clap as I make my way out of my row, and towards the stage.

  “Congratulations, Kalani,” Ms. Jones says, when I’m close enough. She shakes my hand twice.

  I make my way up to the podium, where the microphone is. I can feel Ms. Jones behind me. There are so many eyes on me right now, studying me. For a moment I’m not sure why I agreed to do this.

  I take a deep breath in, and shake out my jittery hands. Then I begin.

  “Hello, my name is Kalani Young. I started working on this speech a couple of weeks ago, and I didn’t quite know where to start. But then I realized that every story has to have a beginning. So, that’s where I’m going to start.”

  I look around at my fellow classmates, my eyes landing on Lucas. He smiles, nodding his head once. That’s what grounds me.

  “At the beginni
ng of my senior year, a rumor was spread about me. Like any teenage gossip, it spread throughout the school like wildfire. But this rumor was not true. Because people chose to believe someone else, rather than to see the truth in me, ​ ​ I began to get bullied. But the teasing and antagonizing did not just stay at school. The bullying followed me home, to an online group chat made specifically for our school. After a while, the bullying got to be too much. I took to harming myself, and eventually I tried to commit suicide.”

  The entire crowd is dead silent, as if everybody in the stadium is hanging on to my every word.

  “Because everybody chose to only see the bad in me-and things that were untrue-I began to feel alone. I began to feel like nobody cared about me. And I began to feel like there was no point in living; like my life was worthless. But I am not sharing my story with you to place blame on anyone, or to make anyone feel guilty. I am sharing it to send a message; people only care when it’s almost too late.” I pause and take a deep breath in.

  “You see, after my suicide attempt, the school group chat blew up with apologies and regrets. But what people didn’t realize was that it was too late for apologies, because the damage had already been done. I needed those apologies four months ago. I needed those sympathies before I started cutting myself, before I started hating myself, before I almost killed myself.”

  I explain.

  “But I realize now that I shouldn’t need anyone’s approval to live my life, but three months ago, I wasn’t that wise. I thought that if everybody else felt like my life was worthless, then maybe it was; maybe I was worthless.

  So, here’s my message: you’re not worthless. Your life is important, and nobody should tell you otherwise, because they’re wrong. If you ever feel like you just can’t do it anymore, if you ever feel like you’re alone, remember that you’re not. Find your person-the person who makes you feel safe, the person who stands beside you, against everybody else. Once you find them, listen to them, because they’re ​​the ones who are right, not the people telling you that you’re anything less than beautiful.” I continue.

  “With that being said, as we graduate today, go our separate ways, and choose our own paths, I want everyone to remember this: be kind. Be kind to every person that you meet. Be that person who steps up, and shows their appreciation-and not just when it’s too late. Be that person who cares, all​ ​the time. Because you never know... You might just save someone’s life.”

  I find Lucas again in the crowd. He’s smiling.

  “And remember... You’re not worthless.”

  The crowd erupts in applause and cheering, as I step down from the podium my heart is racing as I make my way down the aisle, I feel a sense of pride and relief as I take my seat. It may seem small, but I feel like I made a difference.

  After my speech, everybody rises from their seats to form a line. Ms. Jones begins calling names, and the line moves forward.

  “Lucas Miller,” Ms. Jones announces, and I can’t help but cheer for him.

  The line continues, moving slowly. When it’s finally my turn, I take a deep breath.

  “Kalani Young,” Ms. Jones announces. I can hear my family cheering from the stands.

  Instead of shaking my hand, Ms. Jones wraps her arms around me and squeezes.

  “Congratulations,” Ms. Jones says, handing me my diploma. She smiles at me as I cross

  the stage.

  As I’m taking my last step off of the stage, I can see Lucas running from the corner of my eye. Just as I turn to face him, he throws his arms around me, lifting me up off of my feet and spinning me around in a circle.

  He’s not supposed to be up here. Once we’re given our diplomas, we’re supposed to find our seat and wait until everyone is finished. But it’s clear that he doesn’t care, and I don’t care either. Lucas sets me down and pulls away, just far enough so that he can see my face. I smile at him, and a tear slips down my cheek. I’m not sure why I’m crying; maybe because I’m alive, and graduating, and moving on with my life; maybe because I’m doing something, I didn’t think I could do-not a couple of months ago.

  “You made it, Kalani!” Lucas exclaims. He squeezes me again, spinning me around in another circle.

  And I can’t help but whisper it to myself, because it feels so good to have accomplished

  this. I made it.

  Epilogue-Five Years Later

  After graduation, Lucas and I moved into our college dorms. He didn’t attend the same college as me, but he was close enough for me to visit whenever I felt like it. For a while I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I took a lot of different classes, but nothing seemed to fit. But then I thought about Evelyn, and how she helps people every day, and the way she helped me.

  And then I thought about my graduation speech, and that’s when everything clicked.

  “Ms. Young?” I hear from behind me. I turn around to see one of my patients. She has dark brown hair and light blue eyes.

  “Olivia, what have I been telling you for the past two weeks?” I ask with a playful smile.

  “Sorry,” she says, also smiling. “Kalani, can I go outside yet?” I check my watch. 2:27 PM.

  “Three more minutes,” I say. “You think you can manage for that long?”

  “I guess,” Olivia says, sighing. Then she smiles, turns on her heel, and runs off down the hallway. She’s probably heading back to her room. Olivia is only sixteen years old. She’s been living in the hospital for a year and a half now. According to her file, Olivia is here because she’s depressed. I graduated from college about a year ago, with a psychology major. From there, I was given the opportunity to become an intern at Lake View Hospital of Mental Health, and I’ve been here ever since.

  As an intern, I was only allowed to observe what the other employees have been doing, but three weeks ago, I was offered a job. I accepted the offer without hesitation because I like it here, and I like how these people are being treated for their mental illnesses. Olivia is my favorite patient so far, though I try not to show it. She reminds me of me-or at least the way I was, just a couple of years ago. According to one of Olivia’s nurses, within just a few weeks, Olivia can go home to her family.

  That’s what I love about this hospital. We’re truly making an impact on other people’s lives, so much so, that they’re getting better, and have the chance to live their lives again. I know it isn’t as easy as it sounds. I know that these people don’t just come here and get to go home within a few days. I know that it’s hard because for a long time, I struggled, too.

  After graduation, I continued to attend group therapy sessions and one-on-one sessions with Evelyn for another year and a half. The reason I stayed so long was because I wasn’t fully healed within just a few months. In fact, I didn’t start to feel 100% like myself again for a while. Some days, I still don’t feel okay. But that’s the thing about life. Some days, you’re going to feel like you’re on top of the world, and other days, you’re going to feel like the world is crumbling on top of you. ​ But people were meant to be strong.

  We were meant to endure hardships and struggles. But we were also meant to fight back. If we weren’t, why would we be alive? I faced hardships. But I also fought back. And because I decided to fight, I got to live. ​ That’s why I decided to work at this hospital; I want to remind people that they’re strong.

  I want to teach them to fight back.

  “Ms. Young?” I hear again, but I already know who it is. I turn around to see Lucas, standing in the doorway.

  I run to him, throwing my arms around his neck.

  “So, this is the real deal,” Lucas says, looking around. “I think this fits.” “Me too,” I agree.

  After college, Lucas joined the Police Academy. He just graduated a few weeks ago, and has been patrolling the streets as ‘Officer Miller’.

  “Can you believe we made it this far?” Lucas asks. “I mean, me as a police officer, and you as a psychologist at a mental health hospital?”r />
  “It’s a good life,” I admit. “I’m glad I’m here to see it.”

  “Well you’re going to have to reminisce later,” Lucas says. “It’s time.”

  I check my watch again. 2:30 on the dot. My shift is over. I nod in agreement, and follow

  Lucas towards the exit. Just before leaving, I sign out, signifying that my shift is over.

  “Do you want to ride together?” Lucas says. “Or should I just meet you at the assembly?” “I’ll just meet you there,” I say, walking towards my car. I open my door and buckle in.

  Then I follow Lucas out of the parking lot.

  I look back at the hospital in my rearview mirror, one last time before finally turning onto the main road and speeding away. I can’t help but smile, because I believe that this is where I was meant to be, all along. This life has been hard. My scars are still as permanent as they were the day, I created them, and I’m still on antidepressants after five years. But despite how hard this life has been, it has​ gotten better.

  I am living proof that life gets better; maybe it didn’t get better right away, but it did over time. Life is a beautiful thing. That’s why I’ve decided to share my story with the rest of the world. Aside from my career as a phycologist, I’ve become an ambassador for suicide awareness. I spend most of my free time giving speeches about suicide, depression, and warning signs to look out for if you think somebody may be considering suicide.

  That’s where Lucas and I are headed now. I’m going to give another speech about suicide awareness, and Lucas is going to be there for moral support. I was given a second chance at life. I may not have wanted it at the time, but I’m glad that I have it now. And since I was given a second chance, I’m going to make the most of it; I’m going to help people.

  I’m going to help people realize that life is worth it. You are worth it. You’re not worthless.