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Page 3
Page 3
Twenty long minutes later the credits where rolling and I could not be happier. We waited for the majority of the other moviegoers to file out before finally making our way towards the exit.
Becka and Claire were rambling on about going to some party and getting drunk. I made up a lame excuse about having a curfew so I could go home. I did not feel much like partying.
The drive home seemed longer than the trip to the theater even though I did not get lost this time. My thoughts flashed to Becka and Claire inviting me to the movies. I was sure Mr. Honor had overheard our conversation. In my overactive imagination, I pictured running into him there. I just had not factored in that he would not be alone.
I was relieved to see the driveway empty when I pulled into my aunt’s house. The last thing I wanted was to hear her raving about the new man of the hour. It was late so I was sure I would not see her again until tomorrow. I stalked into my bedroom and threw my shoes into the corner. I pulled off my dress, not bothering to unzip it and slipped into an oversized t-shirt from my old school.
I grabbed my old yearbook and walked into the kitchen for a drink. I slid the milk out of the way and grabbed a can of soda, along with a cheap bottle of vodka. I carried everything into the living and clicked on the television. I watched on old romance movie as I drank a small swig from the bottle. The alcohol burned my throat and I coughed and sputtered. I quickly chased it down with my soda as tears filled the rims of my eyes. I flipped open the book and ran my fingers over the indents left by the pen my friend’s had used to sign it. My body began to feel warm and I took a longer swig from the bottle, wiping a drip from my chin. I thought about packing my things and heading back to Michigan. I knew it would never be the same there. Everyone looked at me with pity after my parents had died. They treated me as if I was a toddler who could not take care of myself. At least in Florida most had no idea the situation I had come from. Only a few teachers and the school guidance counselor had the gory details. I wiped a wayward tear from my cheek and put the bottle to my lips again. The sadness magnified as the alcohol took effect, but I did not care. I knew if I drank enough I would forget about it all. I flipped through the pages as my tears fell onto the glossy paper. I ran my fingers over the wet marks and the signatures smudged across the book.
“No!” I cried as I wiped harder. I was officially breaking down. I grabbed the book and threw it across the room. It collided with a picture hanging on the far wall causing it to fall and shatter on impact. “Fuck!” I yelled as I stumbled over to the mess to clean it. My vision was blurred and as I grabbed a piece of the jagged glass, it cut me deeply across the palm of my hand and up my wrist. Blood ran freely down my fingers and dripped onto the old picture of my Aunt and Mother. I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing as I hugged the picture tightly.
Chapter Six
“Emma! Dear god! Emma! Call the police!” My Aunt screamed as she shook me. I blinked several times but could not open my eyes fully in the light. The shaking had turned my stomach and I lurched forward, vomiting all over the living room floor.
“Emma! Why would you try to kill yourself?” She shouted through tears as a man in the background talked in a panic on the phone.
“I didn’t…” I whispered but my throat was raw and sore from crying the night before.
“Hush now.” She replied, soothingly as she pulled me into her chest and hugged me tightly. “Grab her some water!” she yelled off to the man in the other room. He quickly appeared with a glass of water. He held the glass up to my mouth and began pouring it down my throat. I coughed and gagged as my Aunt smacked the man hard on the arm. “You’re going to drown her!” she shouted.
“I’m sorry!” he yelled back with irritation but I could tell that he was full of panic.
“I’m fine.” I assured them. “This isn’t what it looks like.” I said with a nervous laugh. My head was finally starting to clear and as I glanced around at the mess I had left, I understood why they were so upset. I bottle of vodka lay open on its side, its contents spilled on the floor. A picture of my deceased mother lay broken around me and I was covered in my own blood. “I was just sad.” I explained as my eyes landed on the crumpled picture of my mother. Tears welled up in my eyes and I swallowed hard, trying to hold them back.
“Here” my Aunt said as she pushed the water back to my mouth. A loud banging came from the front door and my Aunt’s companion hurried to answer it.
“I’m okay, really.” I said after swallowing a sip of water. I pushed to my feet to stand and nearly lost my balance. My Aunt jumped up beside me and grabbed my arm. Two police officers rounded the corner into the living room followed by a three medics.
“What happened?” the tall huskier officer asked but he was looking at my Aunt.
“I don’t know. I found her lying on the floor with her Mother’s picture.” She explained but her words became muffled under her sobbing. “She tried to kill herself!” she sputtered as the medics surrounded me and began checking my vitals and the wound on my hand.
“No! No! I didn’t try to kill myself!” I shouted over their conversation but no one paid any attention to my protests. My tears gave way as I began to panic. “Please! I just want to go home!” I sobbed. The older female medic looked at me sadly. I hated that look. The look of pity I received from everyone after my parents had died. Anger bubbled up inside of me and I began to fight against them. One medic was holding my injured hand and another was taking my blood pressure from the other arm. I felt claustrophobic, struggling desperately to free myself from their hold. The police officer who was talking with my Aunt took notice and began to shout at me to calm down. His partner, a younger female put her hand on her weapon as her eyes darted back and forth between us. The third medic had disappeared and returned quickly with a gurney. The harder I fought the tighter they held me. Within seconds, I was lying on my back strapped to the device. My Aunt’s cries faded into the background as the wheeled me down the hall and out of the front door. The sunlight was blinding and the surge of heat made my stomach turn. The medics slid me into the back of their ambulance and closed the door behind us. The sudden darkness made it impossible for me to see and carsickness took over where the warmth had left off. “Please…” I cried as the older nurse wiped my hair from my forehead.
I took long calming breathes and finally managed to stop crying as the ambulance pulled into the hospital. They pulled me out and pushed me into the emergency room where doctors and nurses where waiting for us. The nurse left my side and talked quietly to a doctor in the far corner of the room. I could not make out anything they were saying but the doctor’s eyes never left my face and I felt utterly humiliated. I let my headrest back on the gurney and stared up at the white ceiling tiles. After a few moments, the doctor was by my side, adjusting his latex gloves.
“How are you feeling today Ms. Townsend?” he asked as he pulled up my eyelids to inspect my pupils.
“Like an idiot.” I replied with irritation.
“Well, there isn’t much I can do for that, but I can fix up that nasty gash on your hand.” he said with a slight smile and I relaxed a little. “You think we can take off these restraints?” he asked and I nodded my head.
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself.” I replied. He began undoing the leather belt like devices and looking over my hand.
“Well, I am inclined to believe you.” He said and nodded to the police outside of the door. They walked away from the opening and he set back to fixing my hand. “I’ve never seen someone try to kill themselves by cutting their hand.” He continued as he pulled a small piece of glass from the wound. I reflexively tried to pull my hand back from him but he held onto it tightly. “This is going to hurt a little.” He warned and I nodded, biting my lip. He cleaned the cut and by the time he was done, I had four stitches and a pink gauze bandage wrapped around my hand and up my wrist. I explained what had happened while he worked and I felt surprisingly better when the process was finished. “Life doesn’t get any easier. You have been through a lot. It’s okay to ask for help.” He said kindly and I assured him that I would talk to someone next time I was feeling sad.
“How are you feeling?” my Aunt called from the doorway. I did not know how long she had been standing there.
“I’m fine.” I answered as I slid off the bed.
“You have no idea…” she began but her words trailed off and I did not encourage her to finish.
Chapter Seven
The ride home seemed to last for hours as I explained to my Aunt what had really happened last night. I was sad, but I never intended to hurt myself. She lectured me for drinking too much and I did not argue. I did not intend to ever touch another drop of alcohol again. All of her sadness was replaced with anger and I preferred it that way. I could not stand to see one more person look at me with pity.
We pulled into the garage and I could not wait to take a shower and go back to sleep.
“Get ready. You still have a few more classes today.” She called from behind me.
“You’re kidding right?” I asked.
“You think you deserve a day off after all you put me through? I’ll be lucky if I ever see Dan again!” she said angrily.
“Dan?” I asked, having no clue what she was talking about.
“My date from last night. You nearly gave him a heart attack!” she yelled down the hall. I rolled my eyes and closed the bathroom door behind me.
I showered as quickly as I could with one arm. It was harder than I had anticipated. Getting dressed was no easier and by the time I was ready an hour had passed.
“Let’s go.” My Aunt called from outside of my room.
“I can drive myself.” I replied. She pulled my bedroom door open and glared at me. “Two hours ago you couldn’t let go of me and now you’re treating me like you hate me.” I mumbled as I gathered my books.
“I don’t hate you. If I did, I wouldn’t care if you didn’t go to school or drank yourself into oblivion.” She shot back. I realized she was right. All this time living with her, I assumed I was a burden to her. It was nice to know how much she cared, even if she showed it by punishing me.
“I’m ready.” I said as I shrugged on a hoodie and pulled the sleeve down to try to hide my pink bandage.
“It’s too hot for that.” She said as I walked by her and down the hall. I ignored her and continued out to her car.
We did not speak on the trip to my school. I kept the window down trying to keep myself cool but nothing seemed to help.
When we arrived, I hoped out of the car and headed towards the building. I heard a car door slam behind me and I stopped and looked back. My aunt was hurrying to catch up with me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, not bothering to hide my irritation.
“I have to sign you in.” she responded and continued to walk passed me. I reluctantly followed her.
“I’m an adult. This isn’t high school. I don’t think I need you to sign me in.” I said but she kept walking. When we reached the office, I hung out by the door as my Aunt spoke to the secretary. Mr. Honor stepped into the office and placed some papers onto the counter. The office assistant turned beat red as she saw him and began nervously tugging at a loose dirty blonde tendril that had fallen free from her bun. He smiled at her and I realized that this was his date from the theater. After a moment, he turned to leave and I tried my best to look anywhere but his eyes, but I could not help myself.
“You missed my class. Come see me after you are done here.” he said seriously. I bit my lip and nodded as he walked away.
“All set. The counselor is going to make time for you. I’ll be back to get you when school is over.” My Aunt called from the counter.