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A dark tale of a girl trying to escape and find the one person who can save her. |
Into the Dark by: Megan Graham © The cold seeps into my bones, making me shiver and ache. I bite my lip to keep from crying, but it doesn’t work. My body betrays me and a few tears leak out, dripping down my face. I quickly wipe them away, willing sleep to overcome me and take me away. The bed under me is itchy and the blanket thin. I hug myself to try and get warm, but the minute I do, the memory comes flooding back to me. I shiver, trying not to show how cold I was. I guess it didn’t work though, because suddenly he was pulling me close to him, wrapping his arms around me and pulling a blanket over our bodies. I smile slightly, my body and skin relaxing into the heat. I can tell he is smiling too, and staring at me. I pick up the arm he has around my shoulders to study it. My fingers caress the scars there. In that moment, I am glad my parents are out. I’m wearing shorts and a tank-top. I never wear anything that reveals my arms and thighs unless I was alone or with him. My fingers still absently stroke his arms and I feel him shiver underneath when I pass a large one. I smirk a little and bring his arms to my lips. I trail little kisses along the raised skin. I hear him sigh. Once I was done, he rolls slightly so that we are both on our sides facing each other. He reaches for my arm and kisses my own set of scars and I blush, giggling a little. He looks back up at me and smiles, his hand caressing my cheek and neck. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, before drawing our lips together. That’s when my door opens and all hell breaks loose. A sob chokes me. I can’t hold it in anymore. I started wailing like a wolf at the full moon and punching the wall, scratching at my skin. I dig and dig into my thighs until tiny beads of blood welled up. The two orderlies, Brain and Johnny run into my room and try to calm me down. They got my finger nails away from my thighs, but I start biting my hand instead, clamping my jaw down on the skin. No matter how hard they tug I don’t let go. More people come in, probably doctors. Someone finally gets a sedative in me. My jaw slowly unhinges from the skin on my hand and I stop struggling, drifting into darkness. Of course the next morning, I find myself in Dr. Mullin’s office right after breakfast. I have resolved not to speak to her about the incident. She starts it off with the usual. “How do you feel today?” She asks in that calming voice she has. I shrug like I always do. Her tongue quickly flicks across her lips and she sighs. “Do you want me to tell me what happened last night?” She gets right to the point. I know she wants me to tell her how my parents had burst into my room that night and caught us together. I know she wants me to tell her about how that was the first night my parents saw all the scars on me. She wants me to tell her how my parents forbid us from seeing each other ever again, because they thought HE was the cause of the scars. She wants to hear how after that day my parents looked at me with disgust and finally shipped me off to this lovely facility. But I won’t. I keep my lips glued together until the end of the session. When the timer buzzes, Dr. Mullin sighs. She looks at me and says “Do you know the next time your parents are coming in for a checkup?” I shrug and look away. I don’t want to think about them. They don’t want me anymore, and I don’t want them, so that’s that. She sighs again. Dr. Mullin sighs a lot around me. “You know, talking helps. You need to talk about your problems…” She trails off as I give her my best death glare. I had perfected those glares when I was in school, trying to protect myself from bullies. I raise my eyebrow and look at the timer. Dr. Mullin rolls her eyes again and she waves me off, saying “Yes, you are dismissed.” I give her the sweetest smile I can manage and walk out the door. When I arrive into the activities hall, I see that it’s art today. I groan a little. I hate art, because I’m completely shit at it. Actually I’ve never been very good at it. I can do other things, but not art. I smirk remembering what he used to say. I throw the paper across the room, frustrated with it. He looks up at me in surprise and says “What did you do that for?” I huff again and don’t answer. He stares at me not moving a muscle and it’s starting to freak me out a little bit. I bite down on my lip and slowly turn towards him. I take a deep breath and say “It sucks. I’m so shit at art.” He rolls his eyes a little at me and gets up off my bed, walking towards where I sit at my desk. He hugs me and kisses my temple. “What was that for?” I ask quietly. He chuckles and says “Who cares if you can’t do art. You are a talented singer and actor and author. Plus, art is pretentious. The whole author/ singer thing is totally better. Much more of a turn on.” I gasp and smack his arm, my cheeks burning, though I am secretly pleased. He just laughs at me and goes to retrieve my drawing, stuffing it in his pocket. I raise my eyebrow at him, but he shrugs and sits back down. I turn back to my work, but I have to smile. I knew I had just fallen a little more in love with him. I sit in my usual spot and pick up a piece of charcoal. I refuse to work with anything else. I actually like working with charcoal, so there. They can’t make me. I sketch a quick outline of a girl, and I shade her in, darkly. Then I run the charcoal across the entire page, making the once white paper smoky. Then I color the girl in more, making sure she looks like a shadow. In one corner I add a small flower and in the other and eyes with a tear dropping out. The instructor comes and looks over my shoulder. “Very good Mara, I see a lot of emotion in this piece.” I grunt and she moves onto the next person. Man, I really do hate it here. Later that day, visiting hours happen. I sit in the room and watch everyone’s family come to visit. There is a lot of laughing going on around me, but I am separate from it all. I sit in my usual spot and wait for him to walk in, like I always do. I don’t wait for my parents, I know they won’t come, but I still hold onto the foolish hope that he will walk in and take me away from here. Of course he never does. I sigh and try not to cry. Suddenly the door opens and I look up, hoping it’s him. I am shocked to see that it’s my parents, and they are walking straight towards me. The day they sent me away was one of the worst of my life. The past week I had been under house arrest, not being able to go outside at all or even call him. My room had been getting colder and colder every day he wasn’t in it. I refused to eat the food put out for me and I was losing weight because of it. The fateful day they sent me away, they had strode into my room, letting a blast of cold in. I shivered from where I was sitting on my bed staring at nothing. They looked down at me, disgust on their faces as they looked at my bare, scared up arms. I stopped hiding it once they knew. Their eyes landed on the fresh cuts, just starting to scab over. “That’s it.” My Father said. “We are sending you away.” I stare at them blankly, having no idea what they mean, but not wanting to ask and seem stupid. I don’t have to worry though, my Mother explains. “We can’t deal with you anymore. We are sending you to a hospital so the doctors can make you better.” What they are sending finally sinks in. My eyes grow wide, and I start screaming. No words, just noise. I trash around and scream. I grab my razor and slice my wrists right in front of them, not even caring anymore, wanting to die. The grab my arms and wrestle me into the car, driving me off to the place that will be my home from now on. I am startled to see them. “Hello honey.” My Mother says coldly, while my Father stares. I give them a look, silently asking what they were doing here. “We came to see you.” My Mother says. I raise my eyebrow skeptically. Whenever my parents visit me, it’s because they want something. My parents sit down across from me and an uncomfortable silence envelops us. Soon, my Father can’t take it anymore and he says “We need you to start talking and get better. People are starting to wonder and I need to keep my image up to win the election for mayor.” I bite my tongue trying to keep the anger from rising up in me and showing on my face. Of course that’s why they are here. They don’t care about me, only their image. I take a piece of paper and write down ‘Why don’t you just pretend I died?’ I pass it to them. The look on my parent’s faces is priceless. My Mother goes pale white while my Father goes bright red. I try not to laugh. My Mother stays silent, but my Father explodes. “Listen here, you ungrateful little bitch,” He yells. “I have given you a roof over your head and fed you since you were little. And now, I ask you one small favor for the sake of our family and you refuse! All I ask is for you to stop slicing yourself up for our attention and be normal!” I’m taken aback by this and hurt. They think I’m doing this for attention. I clench my jaw, trying not to cry. My Father gets up and raises his hand, like he is going to hit me. Thankfully security drags my Father out and my Mother follows. Everyone is staring at me. I hate the stares so I get up and run to my room, throwing myself on the bed and wishing that he was here. I snivel, sitting on my bed, my Father’s hurtful words still ringing in my ears. Suddenly, there is a knock on my window. I get up and open it, letting him in. He is smiling and carrying a backpack, but that smile melts the minute he sees my tearstained, red, puffy face. “Mara, what is it?” He asks. I just hang my head, and he immediately wraps me into his arms. I cry a little and he asks “Was it your Dad?” I nod against his chest. He sighs and sits us on the bed, pulling me into his lap and rocking us back and forth. He whispers sweet nothings into my hair and kisses my temple multiple times. He lets me cry and cry. Once I’m done, I sit back and kiss his cheek. “Thanks” I say. He graces me with his brilliant smile, and then says “OH! I have something for you!!” I look confused as he sets me on the bed and gets up to get his backpack. He reaches in and pulls out a beautiful notebook and a detailed pen. I hold them, my eyes wide. He chuckles and says “Look at the inscription on the pen.” I do, and it says I Love You, Now And Forever. “Happy Birthday” He says. I nearly scream and throw my arms around him, kissing him with so much force; we tumble to the floor laughing. No one comes in to try and comfort me. No one comes in to find out what’s wrong. Everyone at the facility learned a long time ago that it was easier to just let me be. But, still, sometimes, I wish someone would just try. I wish they would try and dig, no matter how much I tried to push them away. He used to do that. Suddenly, something hits me over the head… an idea. I need to see him again. So, I start to plan, how to get out of here fast and find him and run away with him. With the forming of a plan in my head, I fall asleep with a smile playing on my lips. The next day, I go for my appointment, my plan fresh and strong in my mind. I sit in the chair across from Dr. Mullin’s desk. She sighs and says “How are you feeling today.” Not expecting me to answer, she takes a sip of coffee. I lick my lips and open my mouth and say “I’m pretty shaken up, because of my Dad yelling at me yesterday and all.” Dr. Mullin chokes on her coffee. I try not to smirk as she mops up her desk and stares at me with wide eyes. Thankfully she gets over her shock quickly. She clears her throat and says, “Would you like to discuss your parents?” With the most innocent look I could muster, I nod and go into a whole speech that I didn’t even believe. For the next week and a half, I become the perfect patient. I talk in all my sessions, I eat everything on my pate, I talk with others, and I even participate in the activities and use colors in my art. I make everyone think that I was getting better. Truth was I was getting worse. I was desperate to cut. But, I made myself not do anything that could be seen as self-harm. I told myself that it would be worth it once I could see him again. I had to see him. And sure enough one day Dr. Mullin said “I think you are ready for a trial period at home. Would you like to go tomorrow?” I nodded and smiled at her. This time the smile was real… not because I could go home, but because I was one step closer to the end of my plan. Sure enough the next day, I packed all my bags and walked down the hallway, people telling me good luck. I smiled at everyone and said thanks. I keep up the act, knowing that they are all watching me, waiting to see if I’m really ready. Someone asks me if I’m excited to see my family again on a regular basis. That almost trips me up. I want to scream that, no, I was not excited to be with my parents and that I was planning to run away with the love of my life. But I keep smiling and nobody is the wiser. I even went as far as to hug Dr. Mullin. Of course my parents weren’t there to pick me up, but instead they sent a driver with a familiar face. “Hey!” A voice yelled at me from across the courtyard. I looked up and saw him running towards me. “Hey!” I said. Once he reached me, he pecked my lips quickly and picked me up to spin me around. I laughed while he spun. When he put me down he said “You forgot your notebook.” He handed me a black covered notebook. I hugged it to my chest, smiling at him as my form of thanks. I could see the driver, Dylan smile and look away while he smoked his cigarette. “Well, I’ll see you? I’ve gotta walk home now, and hope I miss the rain!” I looked up at the dark clouds and knew without a doubt that he wasn’t going to make it home. I bite my lip and told him to stay put. I walked over to Dylan, who was just snubbing out his cigarette. “Hey Dylan…” I said slowly. He grunted and looked at me. “Would you mind if we gave my boyfriend a ride home? He has to walk and I know he is gonna be caught in the rain. Please? And can we not tell my parents?” Dylan looked from me, to the sky, to him and back to me. He sighed and his face softened. He spit a wad of phlegm out of his mouth and said “Alright Mara , but only this once. AND NO FUNNY BUISNESS ON MY SEATS!” I laughed and threw my arms around him, hugging him as tight as possible. “Thanks Dylan!” and I ran back over to him and said “Get your ass in the car; we are giving you a ride.” He gins at me and we all pile into the car. We get comfortable and I lean up against him. He wraps his arm around me and quickly kisses my cheek. I snuggle into his shoulder and fall asleep as they rain starts pouring from the sky. “Dylan!” I yell. He turns around, stubbing out his cigarette, the one he always smokes. I run over and throw my arms around his neck. He smells like clean leather and mint mixed with smoke, from his favorite menthol cigarettes. He laughs and hugs me back, swinging me around. “Hey skinny minny! How you doin? I’ve missed you kid.” I laugh and he extracts himself from my hug. He opens the door for me. Before I get in I wave too Brain, Johnny and Dr. Mullin, saying my final goodbye, though what I really want to do is flip them off. With that I get into the car, and think over phase two of my plan: getting out and finding him so we can run away. Of course, the minute I get home, there is no big welcome that one would expect from coming home after a year and a half stuck in a psych ward. There is no big celebratory meal prepared. No one even hugs me. No, instead, I was stuck with my Mother not even being able to look at me, and my Father’s cold “Glad I got through to you.” That was it. I was sent to my room and knew I was on permanent lock down. Once in my room, I look over to the window and sigh. I wish he would come through, like he always used to. But no, nothing moves. I throw my suitcase down, not even bothering to unpack, and I lie down on my bed, waiting for sleep to wash over me. In the middle of the night, I bolt awake, sweating and about to scream. I stop myself in time and just sit there panting, knowing that if I scream, I will wake my parents and the will not be happy with me. I’m completely soaked. I reach over instinctively for him to comfort me, but then remember that he isn’t here tonight, which sucked. I was not good at dealing with nightmares on my own. I wake up crying in the middle of the night, clutching at my heart to make sure it was still there, making sure that I really had just been dreaming and my Father hadn’t just ripped out my heart and eaten it. Someone stirrers besides me, and I hear “Honey… Are you alright?” I look down at him, fear still shinning in my eyes. He looks at me with understanding. “Another nightmare?” He asks quietly. I nod and he gently pulls me back down so I can snuggle into his side. His hands trail up and down my back, soothing me and comforting me. He breaths “I’m here now, go back to sleep. I will protect you.” And then he starts humming. I listen to his voice resonate in his chest. Slowly, against my will, my eyelids start to droop. He hums until I tumble into blackness, nightmares nowhere in sight. The next morning I woke up and went downstairs to eat, something I never did. I sat down with my parents and quietly ate my breakfast. My Mother and Father talked of nothing, which kind of annoyed me. So, to break the stupid small talk I asked “May I go out today?” Silence filled the table and I fidgeted, wondering what I had done wrong. My Father looked at me hard in the eyes and said “No.” and that was all. I opened my mouth to protest, but then shut it again, knowing it was useless trying to fight. I finished my food quickly and retreated back into my room as fast as I could. The minute I heard both cars pull out of the driveway, I grabbed a backpack that I had filled with cloths and food and ran out of the house. I ran and ran down streets and ally’s I knew like the back of my hand. I ran until I came to a familiar yellow door. I panted a little, but eventually got enough air to stand upright and ring the doorbell. Excitement bubbled up in my chest. This was it! I was finally getting to see him again, and we could run away together and live out our lives. The door opened slowly and I grinned, hoping with all my heart that it was him. Boy, was I wrong. His mother stood there, a look of surprise on her face. She looked more tired than usual, and sadder for some reason. “Mara…” She breathed, looking completely shell shocked. I decided to ignore it and said “Hey Mrs. B, sorry I haven’t been around. I was locked up for a bit. Is he here?” She didn’t even have to ask who I was talking about. Tears started to well up in her eyes and that left me more confused than ever. A horrible feeling started building up in my gut. I knew something terrible has happened, but I had no idea what. I didn’t really want to know but I still asked “What’s the matter?” my voice becoming horse. Mrs. B gulped and said “I’m so sorry dear, I thought you knew.” She stopped. My stomach clenched further. She cleared her throat and whipped tears away. “He loved you so much. He thought you were dead. I’m sorry Mara, my son killed himself five months ago.” My world shattered. I didn’t cry or say anything really. I made a choked little sound, spun on my heel and sprinted away. I ran as fast as I could, not caring where I was going. I had to get away! He couldn’t be gone!!! He promised he would stay! We had promised each other! This had to be a sick joke! “What are these?” He asks me, holding a bottle of unidentified pills. I blush and gulp, looking down at my nails. “Mara… please tell me.” I look up at his concerned and caring face. I take a deep breath and say “About 135 of the strongest pain killers and sleeping pills I could find... They are my… back up.” He puts the bottle down and goes over to his bag. He rifles through for a bit until he pulls out a similar bottle to mine. “My back up plan.” He says quietly. I open the bottle and see all different kinds of pills lodged in there. I suck in a breath and look at him, eyes wide. “Let’s both get rid of each other’s ok? Let’s go dump them in the lake!!” He claps his hands like a child, but I can see the seriousness in his eyes. I nod a little and soon we are both out of the window walking down the street hand in hand towards the park with the lake. Once there, we stand on the bridge together and dump the pills into the water, the only sound in the night air. Once the deed was done and after a beat of silence he says “Promise you won’t kill yourself? I can’t live without you. I won’t kill myself if you don’t ok? Deal?” I smile at him. I pull his face closer to mine, until they are inches from connecting. “Deal…” I breath, pulling back to shake his hand. He playfully groans at me, before pulling me close, and crashing out lips together. I ended up in the park where the Night of the Falling Pills occurred. Tears leaked out of my eyes and I walked over to our bridge. I looked into the murky water, sobs escaping from my lips. He couldn’t be gone, he promised. Yet I knew in my heart that he was. I could feel it like a bullet wound in my chest. What the hell was I supposed to do now? I couldn’t go back to my parents’ house; I would go crazy being locked in my room for the rest of time. I would go mad and probably end up becoming mass murder. I didn’t want to go back to the ward, I hated it there, hated it with every inch of my being. I had nowhere to go. Life wasn’t worth living if he wasn’t in it. I stopped crying when that thought struck me. I quickly whipped my tears away and looked into the sky. “I love you.” I said to the stars, hoping he would hear me. For a moment, I felt as though he had caressed my cheek, a lingering touch buzzing on my skin. I smiled slightly and took my blade out, the one I always carried with me. With a quick flick of my wrist, my left wrist started bleeding. After the initial sting, I go numb. I look down at my wrists and see lots of blood flowing out. I did the same to my right one and waited there for death to find me. I feel no pain. The pain is seeping out with my blood. As I felt myself slipping away, I could finally see him, smiling at me with open arms. I ran to him, never once looking back. I ran into his arms, and together we plunged into the darkness. |