Revive Me

by Ferrell, Charity

  Dawson

  I left Tessa’s room and slumped down into a chair in the waiting room. My head dropped down between my knees, and I covered it with my hands as I tried to shake off the headache grinding against my skull.

  “Dawson,” a soft voice said, breaking me from my trance, and I slowly raised my head up.

  “Nice of you to finally show up,” I snarled, leaning back against my chair and crossing my arms across my chest. I was being an asshole. I knew it. I was being an asshole to everyone who played a part in Tessa’s unhappiness. I knew Daisy lived in Atlanta, and it was going to take her hours to get here, but I didn’t give a shit at that moment. And as much as I didn’t want her to know about Tessa, since she didn’t bother to tell Tessa about her moving thousands of miles away, I knew Tessa’s spirit would be lifted if she saw her. And that’s all I cared about.

  She looked better. She looked like she’d actually showered, and her hair had been brushed. I’d only seen her a few times at school before she left, and she never talked to me. I moved my gaze away to find a guy plopping down in the chair next to her.

  “And you already have a new boyfriend. That was pretty fucking quick,” I said, grinding my teeth. Tanner had been her first and only boyfriend here. They’d constantly talked about marriage and how many kids they were going to have. Tanner had even talked to me about proposing after graduation. How could she move on so quickly?

  The guy jumped up from his chair and barreled towards me. “Hey asshole, what the fuck is your problem?” His face was red, and I noticed the clenched fists at his side.

  “Dude, I have no problem with you. Just be careful with this one.” I tilted my head, indicating Daisy, who was staring at me with shock. “She treats people who care about her like total fucking shit. I wouldn’t even put myself in that predicament if I were you, man. Just giving you a heads up.” It was a low blow, but I needed to get my anger out, and they were just there at the wrong time.

  “I’m sorry, Dawson,” she whispered, truly looking sorry.

  I wasn’t the one she needed to be apologizing to. She hadn’t broken my heart and left me. “I don’t want your apology. Today isn’t about you for once, okay? This is about Tessa and her accident.”

  “Accident?” she asked, looking at me baffled. “She tried to kill herself. That is not an accident.”

  I pulled myself up from my chair. Maybe I was wrong calling her here? “Don’t try to talk to her about that shit tonight. If you would’ve stayed around or at least answered her phone calls, you’d understand that Tessa hasn’t been in the right state of mind lately, so it was an accident. She’s in room two eleven if you want to go see her. If you do, don’t fucking upset her more.” I moved around her new guy’s large frame, stalked across the room, and smacked open the doors to the stairway.

  Tessa

  Dawson had stayed with me for hours, sitting at my side, interlacing our fingers, and occasionally running his thumb across my bandage, as we both watched TV silently. He’d move out of the way when a nurse came to check on me, but as soon as they’d finished, he’d be back by my side. Eventually, my eyes began to feel droopy, the TV screen blurry, and I let exhaustion take over my body. When I woke up, he was gone. I hoped I wasn’t dreaming. I drug the blanket closer to my body and looked up at the TV at the same time a knock came from the open door. I sat still, waiting for Dawson to come around the white curtain blocking my view of the hallway, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw her.

  “Hi,” she said nervously, fidgeting with her hands as she slowly walked across the room and sat down. I blinked, certain the meds they had me on were giving me hallucinations. I’d tried calling her a few times after she’d left for Atlanta, but got nothing. I’d finally given up after two weeks. I didn’t have anything to say to my best friend who had abandoned me. I’d been there for her every time she needed me, but she couldn’t return the favor.

  I focused my eyes on the TV and ignored her. Why was she here? I didn’t want her to be here. She needed to leave me the hell alone like she had for months. She couldn’t come in here after ignoring me and want to act like she was worried now that I’d hit rock bottom. That’s not how friendships worked.

  “What happened?” she asked. I finally turned my head to take a good look at her. She looked good. Her dark hair was brushed, clean, and pulled up into a ponytail. Her clothes were clean, and she had a slight hint of make-up on her face.

  “I tried to kill myself, obviously,” I spat out angrily. Maybe if I acted like a bitch she’d leave.

  She winced at my hostility. “I know that, but why?”

  “I just couldn’t deal with it anymore,” I explained, raising my IV-covered hand and rubbing my temples to ward off a headache. “It just became too much for me to handle.”

  She looked at me sharply. “You couldn’t deal with it anymore? I didn’t want to deal with it, either, but you can’t just go off yourself because you can’t deal with real life anymore. That’s not how it works.”

  I crossed my arms across my chest and rolled my eyes. She had no idea what I’d been going through. “Whatever,” I muttered in exhaustion.

  She shook her head at me. “I’m being serious. There are so many people that love you, and it would kill us to lose you, too.”

  She’d hit a nerve. “Screw you, Daisy!” I screeched, pointing at her. “Not everyone can run away from their problems and leave their best friend. I had no one here for me!”

  She looked up at me like she’d taken a slap to the face. “I’m sorry,” she said, sadness in her voice. “That was insensitive of me.”

  “For which part?” I fired back.

  “Everything,” she answered, surprising me. “For leaving without saying goodbye, ignoring you, and for what I just said. I’m sorry.” A small tear dropped down her face, and she pushed it away with her finger quickly.

  I took a deep breath. “My twin was gone, then I lost you, too. My parents are practically catatonic. They just move around like freaking zombies everywhere, refusing to take care of Derrick and me. I just felt so damn alone, and I wanted to be with him.” It felt like a chip had broken off my shoulder at my confession. My shoulders drooped as a sob tore through my chest. “I knew he could make me feel better.”

  She nodded in understanding. “I know it sounds easier, but think of everyone it would hurt if you did that. Your parents, your little brother who depends on you, me.”

  I sighed loudly. “I know.”

  A nurse suddenly walked into the room and looked between the two of us. “Sorry to interrupt, but visiting hours are over,” she informed, coming to my side and checking my vitals on the beeping machine.

  Daisy nodded. “Thank you for coming,” I whispered to her. “Even if we only had a few minutes, I was hoping you would.”

  “Me too,” she said, sending me a shy wave and walking out of the door.

  I was happy she’d visited me, but it still wasn’t the same. We didn’t hug or laugh like old times, but it was better than nothing.

  The nurse handed me a few pills before asking if I needed anything. I shook my head, and she left as the cell phone in front of me rang. Derrick had left his phone for me incase I needed anything. Dawson lied and said he couldn’t find mine. I knew he didn’t want me to see all the hurtful texts and calls that were still coming. I looked down at Dawson’s name flashing across the screen, and a tiny smile spread across my face.

  “Hey,” I answered, putting the phone to my ear.

  “Hey babe, everything going okay?” he asked. “I’m sitting in the parking lot about to head home, but wanted to know if you needed anything before I left?”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks. I guess visiting hours are over.”

  “Did everything go okay?”

  “With what?”

  “Daisy.”

  “It did.”

  “Good. I want you to know I texted her and told her you were in the hospital, but no one forced her to come. It pissed me off when
she left, but she still cares about you, Tess. Don’t forget that. We all care about you. You’re not alone.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered. I was beginning to get that now. I should’ve earlier, but my thoughts had been taken over by my hurt from losing Tanner, my anger towards my parents, and my weakness to latch onto anything that would make me feel better.

  “Now get some sleep, beautiful. I’ll be up there in the morning. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Goodnight,” I said, hanging up the phone and trying to get as comfortable in the bed as I could. I shut my eyes, but my mind was racing. I was afraid what tomorrow would bring. There would be questions, and I wasn’t ready to answer them. People thought I was crazy. I could see it in their eyes. The nurses pitied me every time they came in to help me with something. I’d overheard the doctors talking about going to an inpatient facility when I got released. There was no way that was happening. No way in hell was that happening.

  Tessa

  I stayed in the hospital three days before I had the energy to move, and they released me. Daisy visited once more along with her parents, which was slightly less awkward than her first one. Dawson was there everyday, but my parents weren’t. I didn’t ask about them, and it didn’t surprise me they weren’t visiting me. They were probably drowning in bottles of liquor instead of thinking about me. Dawson wouldn’t answer my question about whether or not people were talking about me at school. He’d just shrug and say, “who the hell cares” before changing the subject or the channel on the TV.

  I was getting transferred to a mental health facility. I’d tried to fight it, but my doctor insisted. He said self-harm is a hard addiction to break. It was easy to relapse. It wasn’t like a drug I could get taken away from me or be tested for, it was something that was disposable at all times; a razor, scissors, or a curling iron. The thought of going to a psychiatric ward scared the shit out of me. As much as I wanted to jump out of the window and make a run for it, I knew I’d never get better on my own. I’d go home, be well for a few days, but as soon as something went bad, he was right, I’d probably go back to cutting. There was no way around it. I didn’t know how else to deal with my problems. So I’d agreed to go and prayed I wouldn’t regret it.

  There was one advantage of deciding to go. It would delay me going back to school. They’d labeled me a “tattle-telling whore” before; I could only imagine what they were saying about me now. I guessed it was something along the lines of “wrist-slitting suicide girl who’d been admitted, who also liked to call the cops and get people in trouble because she was a slut.” Oh, what a lovely reputation to have.

  “Special delivery,” Dawson said, walking into the room with a duffel bag strapped on his shoulder and a bowl of food in his hand. He set my bag on the chair and handed over the bowl. I looked down, and my mouth instantly watered at the sight of biscuits and gravy.

  “Thanks,” I said, opening up the bowl and taking a bite. “You packed a bag for me?”

  “Sure did. I think I did a pretty kickass job, too,” he answered, clearly proud of himself.

  “Did my mom help you?”

  “Nope, I told her I could handle it.” I knew he was covering up the fact that my mom probably didn’t even offer to help him.

  “Please tell me you didn’t go through my panty drawer?”

  “Well,” he drew out, and I threw a napkin at him. “I didn’t think you’d want to run around commando, so yes I did, and you have a very nice collection I might add.”

  I flipped him off. “Very funny, perv.” I tried to think of the last time I’d done laundry, hoping there were a few decent pairs in there.

  “That’s a compliment, babe. I think I got everything you needed. They gave me a list yesterday. I figured you’d want to be comfortable, so I packed some sweat pants, t-shirts, and sweaters. I grabbed your hair and body stuff from your shower, but I couldn’t bring any heated products.” His eyes left me and looked down at the floor.

  “That’s fine, I understand.” The Dawson I knew could barely pack a bag when the football team went away on weekend games, let alone an entire week for a girl.

  “Oh, and some make-up, I’m not sure if I got everything you needed, but I tried.”

  “Thank you,” I said, taking another bite and groaning. “God this tastes so much better than the hospital food they’ve been feeding me.” He gave me a look. “Okay, fine, what little hospital food I’ve had.” Dawson had snuck me up food for almost every meal so I wouldn’t have to eat the freezer burned cheeseburgers and cold mashed potatoes.

  “Derrick wanted to be here, but I told him he couldn’t miss school,” he informed me.

  “What about my parents?” I asked. “Do they need to be there with me when I get discharged?”

  He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. “They were up here earlier when you were sleeping and signed your release forms because they have prior commitments.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course they do.” I was sure they had prior commitments with a bottle named Jack.

  He clapped his hands together. “But, I told them I’d take great care of you.” His thin lips gave me a smile.

  “You’re taking me?” I asked, shocked. I wasn’t sure how the process worked. “They’re not taking me in an ambulance or a van with padded walls or something?”

  “You need to quit watching so many movies,” he said. “Yes, I’m taking you.”

  I looked down in shame. I hated him seeing me like this. I’d been in love with Dawson since freshman year, even when I was with Reese, deep down I still wanted him. I fought it, but no matter what, when I went to bed at night, he was the one I thought of. So him seeing me there, in that condition, was embarrassing.

  “So get dressed whenever you’re finished eating, and we’ll head out,” he added.

  I finished my food knowing that security in my new place probably wasn’t going to allow Dawson to sneak me in some tacos. I pulled myself out of the uncomfortable, lumpy bed and grabbed the bag from the chair slowly. I cringed, feeling a deep pain in my wrist as I lifted it and started walking towards the bathroom to get dressed. I shook my head when Dawson asked if I needed a nurse to help me.

  I grabbed the first articles of clothing I found and didn’t bother to look through the bag. I looked in the mirror before heading out, noticing how terrible I looked. I’d been allowed me to shower, but I had to leave my arm out to keep my wound dry. My hair looked like a rat’s nest. Circles gathered under my vacant eyes. My skin was moist and clammy. I felt dirty and gross. Never in my life had I felt so ugly. I was finally noticing what a mess I really was.

  “Ready to go?” Dawson asked when I walked back into the room.

  “They’re really going to let you take me?” I asked skeptically. “Aren’t they scared I’ll like skip town or something?”

  He laughed. “Tessa, you’re not a convict on your way to prison.”

  “Pretty much,” I grumbled.

  “The doctors said you agreed to get help.” He wrapped his arm around my waist. “They didn’t peg you as a runner, plus I can outrun you.” He carefully grabbed my hand in his, and I didn’t miss the way his fingers brushed against my bandages. I looked up at him, and he gave me a small smile. “I’ll visit you,” he continued as we walked in to the elevator with my bag in his free hand. He dropped my hand to hit the main floor button before grabbing it again.

  We stayed silent as I fidgeted nervously. He helped me into his truck before getting in and taking off down the road. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  “Do you know how long I’m going to be there for?” I asked, biting my fingernails nervously.

  “Your parents said possibly a week or two. It depends on how well you make progress.”

  “Oh.”

  His palm cupped my knee. “Which I’m sure you’ll do in great time.”

  “Does everyone think I’m crazy?” He shook his head. “Be honest.”

  “The people that matter d
on’t. The ones that don’t, no one gives a shit what they say.” His hand moved to mine, and he kissed it softly. “You’ve been going through a rough time, we understand. I just wish we could’ve gotten you help before this happened. You scared the shit out of me, so no more, okay?”

  “It won’t happen again.” I hoped so.

  “Damn straight it won’t. You start to feel like you want to cut, call me. I’ll come over, I’ll talk to you, I’ll just sit there with you while you deal, but you call me.” I nodded in response.

  We pulled up to a long, one story, brick building. It looked normal. There were no bars to block people from escaping through the windows or electric fences to shock the runners. Crazy, mental patients weren’t running around the yard or planting their faces against the windows mouthing, “Help me.” It looked like a doctor’s office or nursing home. Yeah, he was right. I’d seen way too many movies.

  “If you need anything, anything at all, call me. I’m going to put my name on the list. I’m so proud of you for doing this,” he said, killing the ignition to his trunk and settling back against the ripped seat.

  A tear trailed down my face. “Why are you proud of me? I’m a coward, a freak, and I’m headed to the nut house.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  More tears released. “Yes, I am. I tried to kill myself. I’m mentally fucked up, Dawson,” I said. How many times did I have to explain this to him?

  “You’re not fucked up. You have some issues, and you’re getting it taken care of. If you didn’t get help, it would get worse, and then you would become mentally fucked up. It’s not unnatural for you to feel this way. You’re depressed, and we need to make you better.” Was I depressed? I’d never wanted to say that about myself. I was empty and I’d been lying to myself. I allowed myself to believe that sucking down booze and being with Reese was a good coping mechanism. I’d used them both to block out the irrational, self-destructing feelings, because you can’t feel like shit if you feel nothing.