Copyright Kathryn Perez (2012)
For
review purposes only. Any other use is a violation of copyright law.
“Therapy”
By
Kathryn Vance-Perez
Prologue
The blood runs down my stomach and, I
close my eyes letting the pain ooze out with it. This is what I need, what I
crave. Otherwise I’m numb, feeling nothing. The pain and depression stays
suppressed until I can release it. It gives me a high and a rush that I need
every morning before I go to school. I know when I walk through those doors of
Edmond High School every day that I have to flip a switch inside and turn it
all off just to make it through the day. My mom drinks coffee with a shot of
liquor to start her day, I need a razor blade cutting through my flesh.
I shove my notebook into my book bag and
mentally prepare for another day of dodging Elizabeth Myers and her posse of
mean girls. Some days I wish I
could just meet them all somewhere and let them beat the hell out me, spit all
of their venom my way, then be done with it. If I knew it would make it stop I
would do it in a minute. My senior year of high school had barely begun and I'm
already counting down the days for it to end. For the past three years I've
endured the wrath of these girls, and it’s imprisoned me. I look forward to
some normalcy. It’s been so long since I felt normal that when I finally do
feel it, it will probably feel abnormal. I just want it to end. Every day I pray
that it will be the day they forget about me. They never do. I do everything I
can to keep attention away from myself in order to avoid their radar. It's
always pointless because Elizabeth is merciless. I've never understood how a
girl that's so beautiful on the outside can be so ugly and evil on the inside.
How all of her admirers can't see her for what she really is will forever be a
mystery to me. But I know better than anyone how easy it can be to fool people
and hide your darkest secrets on the inside. I do it every day.
I head into first period English and sit
at the back of the classroom like I always do. I shuffle through my book bag
and get my notebook out just as I hear them. The banter is unmistakable.
“Oh my God Hailey, did you see him this
weekend? Jace was on fire in the game, although he usually always is. I rewarded
him properly afterwards then he was really on fire.”
The posse giggles as Elizabeth goes on
about her boyfriend and football quarterback Jace Collins. They were the “it
couple” around the school. Jace was Mr. Popular and of course Elizabeth was Ms.
Popular. What he saw in her I had now idea, well aside from her long, luxurious
blonde hair, perfect skin, perfect body, and ocean-blue
eyes. But she radiated “bitch” regardless of her appearance. Elizabeth glances
back at me as she takes her seat.
“So Jessica, how much slutting around
did you do this weekend? Go to any rainbow parties? How many guys got between
your legs in the past two days? Huh?” she smirks.
I dart my eyes down towards my notebook
and refuse to engage her.Trying to take up
for myself only makes it worse. My long black hair fell down around my face
creating a curtain of defenses. I doodle aimlessly on my notebook ignoring all
of her comments. Something hit my arm and fell onto my desk, then again and
again. I lookup and Elizabeth is laughing
as Hailey, her partner in crime, balled up another tiny piece of paper. I
rolled my eyes at them and looked back down at my notebook shoving the pieces
of paper onto the floor.
“Wow Jessica, it must really suck to be
you. How do you just sit there and let people treat you so shitty? Are you
really that weak, or are you just exhausted from blowing guys all weekend? You
do know they only pay you any attention because you put out right? They don’t
actually like you.” She scoffs.
“Yeah, I know Elizabeth. Thanks for the
memo.” I retort.
She turns around mumbling something
about what a skank I am just as Jace walks in and sits down beside her. Hailey
flicks another balled up piece of paper at me, and he scrunches up his eyebrows
glaring at her. She grins at him and shrugs her shoulders innocently.
“Hailey don’t be such a bitch. Stop
picking on people, it’s mean.” He said in an obviously irritated tone.
“Jace Collins, don’t talk to my best
friend like that! Hailey is only warding off the infestation of STD’s sitting
behind us.” Elizabeth hisses.
He looks back at me and mouths the word sorry. I don’t reply in any way; no
expression, no all-knowing look, just nothing. Jace is the epitome
of male perfection with his sandy blond hair and crystal
clear blue eyes. He always has a little stubble from not shaving and totally
has a Paul Walker look going on about himself. He’s toned and muscular but not
in a bulky way, and he’s nearly sixfeet tall. He’s the
star of the Edmond football team, on the track team, plays on the baseball team,
and is on the male swim team. He’s a super jock and pretty much has a clear-cut future
with an athletic scholarship to a major university. The only reason I think he
is ever nice to me is because I am on the girls swim team. I steered clear of all team sports for the most part, and I was
definitely a loner. I have been competitively swimming for four years now, and
it is pretty much the only thing that I really enjoy. School is a means to an
end for me, and I can’t wait for it to be over. This place is nothing but a
daily prison to me.
After English class we all file out, I walk
slowly allowing Elizabeth to exit first and hopefully forget that I am behind
her. I make my way to my locker only to find notes taped to it reading SLUT along with other expletives in big
bold letters. I rip the papers off quickly just before Elizabeth walks by,
shouldering me into the metal lockers.
“Oh excuse me Jessica, I didn’t see you.You should wear a slut warning sign letting the rest of us know
you are there!” She laughs as her posse surrounds me.
I look to the floor and shut it all out.
This is how I deal with her and all of them. I lockdown, shut it out, and wait
for it to be over. She flicks a strand of my hair from my face and starts with
the threats.
“We all know you slept with Harrison
this weekend, and you know that Hailey has been seeing him for quite a while.
Did you really think you could keep that from us? Huh?” She demands. “You
better keep your skank-ass away from him, do you understand me Jessica? He
doesn’t want you, none of them want you! You are pathetic and disgusting. If
you weren’t an easy piece of ass none of them would ever give you the time of
day.” She slaps her hand on my locker merely inches from the side of my face
and whispers.
“Don’t you ever just think about ending
it, spare us all the repulsion of looking at you every day?” She glares at me
as my eyes dart back and forth looking for an out. Then I hear his voice and
Elizabeth turns away from me in his direction.
“Liz leave her alone already! You’re
going to be late for class anyway. Let whatever it is go.” He murmurs,
gesturing for her to make her way to second period.
“Remember what I said skank.” She
exclaims as she struts off down the hallway.
I look up to see that Jace is still
standing there looking at me, hands shoved into his jean pockets. I feel
vulnerable and embarrassed. Why is he standing here causing this awkward silent
moment to happen? I look away nervously and turn back to my locker opening it
quickly.
“Hey Jessica, I’m sorry about Liz and
her tribe of brats.” He says as I rustle through my locker stalling so I don’t
have to turn around and make eye contact with him.
“Are you ready for swim this year? I
hope we kick ass like last year.” He says and I wonder why he’s trying to carry
on a casual conversation with me. The bell rings, now I’m definitely late for second period. I spin around facing him.
“Thanks Jace and yeah I’m ready for swim
team.” I mutter. His mouth turns up into a grin and he walks in the opposite
direction.
What was that all about? If Elizabeth
saw him carrying on a full blown conversation with me she would go ape shit. I
was like the plague around here, and the star quarterback talking to me was
definitely not a good idea for him or me.
The day moves at an arduous pace, and I
continue to avoid Elizabeth for the remainder of the day. I’m not sure what’s
worse; this prison of a school and the way I seem to be the butt of everyone’s
jokes, or home where I am invisible to everyone. I go to my car and drive home
blasting Seether from my speakers. I wonder what kind of day mom will be having
today. She’ll either be drunk or be Martha Stewart, it’s a 50/50 chance I will
get Martha every day. I stopped caring one way or another a long time ago. When
she’s not drunk she tries too hard and it’s smothering. She just
overcompensates for her lack of parenting on the days she’s liquored up. I pull
in the drive and see her sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette and holding a
glass of wine. Drunk day today.
“Hi mom.” I say hurriedly as I walk past
her.
“Hi sweetie, how wassss your day.” She
slurs.
“Great Mom. It was great!” I say lying
straight through my teeth because telling her the truth would be pointless.
I went on inside towards my room. After
slamming and locking my door, I reached over and pulled out my hidden box of
razors, alcohol swabs, ointment, and bandages. I flipped my iPod docking
station on and fell down onto my bed. I pulled up my shirt and unbuttoned my
jeans, pulling them down just barely enough to expose the cut from this
morning. I had to be really careful to not let them get infected so I cleaned
and bandaged them daily. It was a typicalroutine for me. I knew I would soon have to put on a normal happy
face for when Dad came home. Not that he really paid me any attention at all,
but I always felt like he had me under a microscope looking for any
imperfection or mistake. I did my best to avoid him like everyone else in my
life.The weekends were the only time I socialized and that usually always
involved guys. I snuck out every weekend at night and cruised the back roads
with whatever guy I was seeing at the time, which changed often. I was always
too clingy, and they always ran scared after they got what they wanted from me.
Sex was a way for me to connect; to feel something. I guess sex equals love for
me since I really have no idea what love should really feel like. It’s my version
of love and it fills a void so I continue the viscous cycle of sleeping with
every guy I go out with.
After cleaning up my cut, I place a
bandage on it and button my pants back up. I place the box of items back in my
nightstand and pull out my journal. My journal is the only place I can be me. I
rarely understand why I feel the way I feel every day, and writing is my only
true form of expression without the fear of judgment. If anyone ever read my
journal I am positive I would be committed to a crazy house. I pull the cap off
of the pen with my teeth and chew on it anxiously as I write.
You
only know the mask I wear
Who am
I?
Do I
even know?
Black…White…no
Gray
I
either love or I hate
When I
want to hold on I claw instead
No
sense of purpose
Eyes that
are dead
Regret
and rejection I swallow down
I just
want someone to love me
Emotional
pain creeps all around
When
someone hurts me it’s hurts forever
Be. Me.
For. A. Day.
Let me
walk beside you
Let me
look over
See the
me you see
Then
you can walk beside me
See the
you that I see
I’ll
keep filling the hole in my soul with I O U’s
While you
keep filling it with I hate you’s
I shut my journal and text Harrison. We
had a good time this past weekend no matter what Elizabeth has to say about it.
Having someone makes me feel happy even if it’s always short-lived.
Me: Hey I had fun the
other night. You want to hang out this weekend?
He texts right back and I smile inside.
Harrison: Hey babe. Yeah I had
a blast with you. You really know how to show a guy a good time! I’m not sure
about this weekend. Jace and the guys invited me out. It’s just some sort of
guy’s night out thing. But I’ll catch you some other time ;)
My inside smile fades and I instantly
feel rejected. I want him to want to be with me, not the guys. Why does this
always happen? Why do I need them so badly, want them so badly? It’s always the
same. Every guy I date I feel consumed by them with some sort of freakish need.
I know it’s not normal but I can’t make it stop. In the end it either pushes
them away or causes me to go off on an emotionally charged rant towards them.
The result is always me screaming about how much I hate them and how I never
want to see them again. I regret it every time, but the cycle is nevertheless
on repeat.
This is
me, Jessica Alexander. My life. My personal hell.
Copyright Kathryn Perez (2012)
For
review purposes only. Any other use is a violation of copyright law.
