by Jane Lark
Mr. Martin looked back at him. “Darren. I’d appreciate it, if you, and you boys…” He looked at us with a meaningful gaze, “say nothing to anyone about this.”
I nodded, as Jason did. But I doubted Lindy would want us to be the keepers of her murky secret. She couldn’t trust either of us.
The ambulance came along the street, siren screaming.
At least the street was lined with stores so no one peered around their curtains, watching.
Mr. Martin stood up as the medics got out. He told them in a low voice what she’d taken.
In minutes she was strapped on a gurney, then rolled into the ambulance. He didn’t go with her. He said he had to get the car back to the station and find someone to cover his absence. He said he’d meet them at the hospital.
I wanted to go. But, it wasn’t my place––she and I hadn’t spoken for months so I could hardly force myself on her in an ambulance when she couldn’t say, fuck you, you bastard.
My gaze and my heart followed the ambulance as it pulled away.
“Will you let me know how she is, Dwayne?” Jason said, before Mr. Martin got back in his car.
He stared at Jason for a moment, then nodded. “Thanks for trying to help her, and for calling me.”
It didn’t seem like he blamed Jason for Lindy falling apart.
I wondered if he knew about my part––if he blamed me. I blamed me. I owed her bad.
Jason’s dad climbed back into the driver’s seat of his truck. Jason stood beside it holding the passenger door. “You coming?”
“No. I’ll walk. Clear my head.”
Jason gave me a concerned look, then he let go of the door, walked over, held me and then smacked my shoulder. “It was good catching up. We’ll do it again? We’ve made up now, right?”
“Right,” I answered, fist bumping his hand. But my voice was subdued. Our reunion had been ruined.
Lindy
Had I hit my head? God, the pain was crazy. I opened my eyes. Where the hell was I? The walls in the room were white, the bed I was in metal, and the pillow like a pack of cement, and a smell of disinfectant hung in the air. I was in a hospital.
Oh my God, I’d taken the pills and survived and now I had to face everyone…
Shit. Guilt and embarrassment washed in with the force of a tsunami. I’d let Mom down. Dad would be heartbroken and disappointed. I’d hurt them.
I’d been wrapped up in pain last night, trapped in it, in the darkness, in chains of self-pity, I knew that, I could see the external perspective others saw––but they weren’t in my head, in the dark.
It had stopped being just emotions months ago, maybe years ago, and become a jail cell. I couldn’t see any end to this life sentence.
Everything had become scary. Others lived but I couldn’t.
Then there had been Jason’s news, everywhere––on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr and Instagram. The baby had been born. The pictures were circulating like crazy.
Everyone we’d been at school with had shared them.
They’d called the kid, Saint. It was a crappy name.
People said he’d picked a name for the kid to grow into.
I rolled on to my side, tears running onto my cheeks and curled up hugging the cement-like pillow. A year ago, he’d been with me. I’d been engaged. I’d had a future, something to look to, now there was nothing.
I gave up my job, because I’d worked at the store with his dad.
His new girl, his wife, worked there now.
Life sucked. I hated fate. Why did it have to pick people out for bad things when they’d done nothing wrong? I’d given up believing in God or Karma or anything. Except angels…I hoped people came back after they died and watched over you.
I wiped the tears away.
There weren’t any monitors in the room, so I couldn’t have been so sick but I should probably buzz for a nurse and tell them I’d woken up.
I couldn’t. Embarrassment hit too hard. Maybe fate had been kind to me in that, keeping me alive, but now I felt stupid for taking an overdose… I didn’t know how I’d face Mom.
Billy
My thumb hovered over the send icon for the twentieth time today. Jason had texted yesterday to say he’d heard from Mr. Martin. Lindy was okay, just sleeping the drugs off in the hospital. He’d said she’d be out of action for a while.
I wanted to text her. But cowardice had a grip on my hand.
I switched the cell off, put it back in my pocket then got in the SUV to go to my next client.
I didn’t think of her while I worked. I had to watch my client, to make sure he did the exercises right and didn’t strain anything, and to count his repetitions.
But as soon as I left the guy my mind was back on Lindy.
Was she still in hospital?
Would she want me to text?
Did she know we’d been there?
Why the hell had she taken an overdose? Was it just a cry for help or had she really meant to end it?
How did she feel now?
The only way I was gonna get any answers was to text her. I took my cell out of the pocket of my sweat pants as I threw my backpack on the back seat of the SUV.
I got in with it gripped in my hand and sat there for a minute, looking at her picture. I’d taken it last year, after Jason had left for New York, when she and I had been hanging out a lot more, alone for the first time.
‘Hey, Lindy, sorry I haven’t been in touch. I should’ve been. How are you?’ My thumb hovered over ‘send’, my heart pounding out a bass beat. I had to do this. She was never gonna break the ice between us and I couldn’t stand feeling guilty anymore.
I didn’t expect an immediate reply. But relief hit me just because I’d done the deed.
I threw my cell on the passenger seat, slipped the gear shift into drive and pulled my seatbelt on, then pressed my foot on the gas.
My cell rang ten minutes later. I was on the road into town. Flicking the indicator on, I pulled into the side and parked on the dirt on the edge.
I picked my cell up. She’d called.
My hand shaking like a douche, I called her back. The leather bracelet I had on my wrist declared its presence as it slid a little up my arm.
“Hi––”
“Hey, Lindy, you called me. How are you?”
“Are you driving?” Her voice was quiet and weak––it still cut through me like a blade.
“I’ve pulled over. You can talk if you want to talk. Why did you do it, Lind?”
“Because I feel like shit.”
“Lind––”
“You don’t need to tell me it was foolish, I know. And selfish, and pathetic, and… terrible… I… I’m sorry you saw me. Thank you for helping me. I think I’m gonna have a lot of apologizing to do.” She took a breath. “Say sorry to Jason too.” She hung up.
Shit, I smacked the wheel with the heel of my palm. Why did she have to be so frickin’ hard? Why did she have to hurt me so much? Why the fuck did I have to care about her? I wished my asshole of a heart would fall for someone else.
Dammit.
I called her back. “Don’t hang up on me. Are you still in the hospital?”
“Yeah.”
“How long for?”
“They’re going to let me go soon, but I’ve got to see a psychiatrist first.”
“Well that sounds like a good idea. Look, I’m here for you. I know I’ve been a shit friend for the last few months, but, forget that, forgive me, and let’s make up and be friends again.”
She didn’t say anything. I didn’t push it. She had a lot to forgive me for.
“Why did you do it, Lind?”
“It was stupid, I––”
“This is me you’re talking to, be honest. Why did you do it?”
She sighed. I imagined the air leaving her lips. I’d watched her sigh so many times in the last year or so.
“Because Jason had the baby and he’s so happy, and his life is perfect and my life…” sh
e started crying. We were back to what Lindy and I had always been––I was her confidante, her life coach, her safety net, her servant, her punch-bag…God the list went on. I was everything, without getting anything I wanted. Her fucking fool.
She took a breath. “I hear myself, and I hate me. I know why you and Jason and everyone else dislikes me because––”
“Everyone doesn’t dislike you, Lind––” and I love you..
“It’s okay if you do dislike me. I understand…”
“Well I don’t, Lindy. I feel like I’ve let you down. I should’ve been around for you.”
“My mess isn’t your fault, Billy. You can’t do a thing to change it.”
I could. “I want to help you.”
“You can’t.”
“Let me be your friend again, Lindy. Let me make things up to you.”
“Billy, honestly, you have nothing to make up.”
“Well, I can’t stand seeing you like I did last night.”
“Sorry.”
I took a breath. “Do you want me to come and get you from the hospital later?”
“No, Dad’ll come.”
“Well then, text me when you get home and we’ll organize something. I’ll come over and see you.”
“Okay.” I could imagine her nodding, but I heard uncertainty in her voice.
“Lindy, you need a friend. That’s all I’m offering, I promise. No expectations. No pressure.” She didn’t have anyone else. She’d dumped all her girlfriends when we’d gone to college. She’d been one hundred percent full-on all over Jason since we’d left school. She’d isolated herself and that’s why we’d spent so much time together when he’d gone to New York. I was the only friend she had left. And that was torture.
“Okay, maybe. It depends how I feel.”
I couldn’t ask her for more.
“Don’t do it again, Lind. And if you’re tempted, call me…” But then I remembered the one night she had called me when it was late… Crap, I was not the one she’d pick to call.
“Bye.” The word ran through me. It sounded final. I couldn’t have stood it if anything had actually happened… if she’d succeeded and killed herself.
“Take care of yourself.”
“Thanks, Billy. And you will say thank you to Jason? I know he didn’t have to help me.” She hung up.
But why wouldn’t he have helped her? He’d just fallen in love with someone else; he didn’t want to see her dead.
When we’d been at school she’d been full of vitality––energy––she’d always been smiling. When we hit college she’s started changing.
Well, whatever, there was nothing I could do right now.
I slipped the SUV back into drive, looked in the side mirror, to check nothing was coming, waited until a vehicle passed, then pulled out and drove home.
Lindy
My finger kept hovering over Billy’s name in the contacts list on my cell. I’d seen the psychiatrist and she’d told me I had to start seeing her regularly, to talk out all the stuff going on in my life––and in my head. Then I’d come home and all the stuff going on in my life had hit me in the face. There was an atmosphere in the house. Fear. Loneliness. Pain. Because Mom was sick––she couldn’t help being sick––but I had to watch her wither away. It was too hard––I didn’t want to let her go.
My head, belly and heart ached. Life had been hard and cruel for too long. That’s why I’d tried to end it––I’d just been selfish for a moment. I’d tried to escape everything; Mom and Jason. His baby had been the thing that slid me over the Niagara Falls of despair, though.
But I wouldn’t do it again. I’d learned my lesson. Guilt was heavy. Mom had looked hurt and disappointed and Dad hadn’t been able to hide how bad he’d have felt if I’d succeeded.
If I was meant to die I’d have died. I was meant to face up to all this bullshit and keep going.
And Mom…
Now I could see all the stuff I’d been blind to.
I felt lousy, not because I’d swallowed a massive dose of happy pills, but because I’d hurt my parents.
Mom had every reason to bow out, and she didn’t––I’d tried.
I needed someone to hold me. I felt sore inside.
I touched the screen. Billy’s picture and details came up. He smiled at me out of the cell, with those warm dark-blue eyes of his. My thumb hovered over his number.
We hadn’t spoken since just after New Year, until I’d called him the other day. But I had no one else. He’d been the closest person to me other than Jason for years.
I wished what had happened, hadn’t…
I shut my eyes––I wish, I wish, I wish. If I had shiny red shoes on and clicked my heels, I wondered if I could go back in time, to when everything was right, then I could make sure everything stayed right.
That’s what my life had become––wishes that things had not happened, wishes that they wouldn’t, wishes that people would stay in my life.
I’d lost my friends. I’d given them up in favor of Jason, and look how that had ended. He’d moved on and left me behind. The only friend I’d had left was his best friend, until I’d messed that up too.
I was super-good at messing things up.
I sighed. Courage. I wasn’t going to fix things with the only possible friend I had left unless I made the move. He’d taken the first step the other day when he’d texted me––now it was my turn. I just had to do it.
I tapped the icon.
“Hi.” He answered, right off. My heart pounded.
“Billy?”
“You. Okay?”
“Yeah. I’m at home now. Dad picked me up at seven last night and brought me back. I appreciate you helping me out. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I’m––”
“It’s okay, Lind. I’m glad you’re home. How did you get on with the shrink?”
When Jason had gone to New York, Billy had become my best friend, as well as Jason’s. But then he’d ended up in the middle of everything when Jason had deserted me.
“Okay, I have to see someone regularly.”
“Well that’s probably a good thing isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“How are you today?”
“Down.” I sighed. The psychiatrist had told me to be honest rather than keep things trapped inside. “Jason having the baby makes me feel like crap still. Is that a bad thing to admit? Only the woman at the hospital told me I should admit how I feel.”
“Lind, if it’s how you feel, it’s how you feel, it just is. I know all this stuff is hard on you. I’m not judging you. Like I said the other day, I feel like I’ve let you down… Do you want me come around so we can talk?”
“Yeah.” God the thought of having someone to talk to outside of my house, and everything weighing down the atmosphere in here, was wonderful. Like an oasis in a desert.
“I’ll come over now then, yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re not working?”
“I’ve got a gap between clients. I’ll come over.”
“Don’t knock. Call me when you get here.”
“Okay, I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye, Lind. See you in a while.”
“Yeah.”
I fell back on my bed, lying on my back, with my cell still in my hand and stared up at the ceiling. Tears blurred the white fluffy clouds Dad had painted against the blue sky when I’d been a kid. The tears wouldn’t stop. I’d cried loads since I’d woken up in the hospital.
It was twenty minutes after I’d spoken to Billy that I got the second call.
“Hi, I’m parked outside your house. Do you want me to knock?”
“No, stay there, I’ll come out.” I ended the call, wiped my eyes, and stood, then glanced in the mirror. I looked like a ghost, pale and pasty. I hadn’t gone out of my room yet. I sat down to put some makeup on to hide the sorry-looking state of my face. I hated looking at myself in mirrors but I had to face that ugly girl
to put on the mask I hid her behind.
Mom was in her chair in the living room. “I’m going outside.” Guilt made me feel I had to tell her everything so she didn’t worry I was doing something stupid.
“Why?”
“Billy’s outside, I’m just going to sit in his car and talk to him.”
“Lindy, love, you can bring him in…” She felt guilty too. Mom didn’t really want anyone in the house, she’d said so, anyone who saw her would know she was sick, and she didn’t want anyone to know––but after what I’d done, she was worried about it hurting me. It made me feel worse.
“It’s okay, I’d rather speak to him outside. We won’t go anywhere.”
“Darling––”
“Sorry. I just need to talk to him, then I’ll be back in.” I knew what she wanted to say, I didn’t have to explain myself––but then I knew she was afraid I’d try to kill myself again. “You can look out the window if you want.”
“Lindy…” My name was said on a sad, weak, sigh. She needed to know I was okay, but she didn’t want to have to know.
I’d messed everything up by taking an overdose. I don’t even really know why I’d done it. It’s just, that night, everything had seemed too much, and I’d had a drink, and escape and relief had opened up like a window I could jump through. I’d seen freedom from the pain ripping my soul apart, and I’d taken the chance.
But if I’d succeeded it wouldn’t have been an end to anything; it would have just made things worse for the people I’d left behind.
Fate had saved me from doing that.
But now I had no choice. I had to cope.
I turned, opened the door and went out.
Billy’s SUV was parked on the other side of the road. Nothing was coming up the street. I crossed over and went around to the passenger door, my heart racing as if someone was beating a crazy drum solo on it. “Hi.” I climbed up into the passenger seat.
“Lindy…” He’d freed his seatbelt already, and now he twisted sideways. He had long, loose shorts on.
We hadn’t spoken properly for so long––I didn’t really know what to say.