Sunday

I still haven’t slept.

After I dropped Helen home, Aylin invited me to stay for dinner. Felix was there to join us. I declined. I was afraid that my exhaustion was starting to become noticeable.

I got home, got high again, and don’t remember anything else.

I don’t remember how I ended up at Pier 62 in Seattle. This is unlike me. I go through my phone to see if it can fill in the gaps or if I did anything stupid.

Tina and Liz are freaking out on me and all of my missed calls are from them. Maddie was taken to the hospital when her parents found her high on the drugs I gave her. They say she was found as a mumbling zombie. Tina and Liz are trying to figure out what to do if Maddie ever says where she got it from. They think they’re complicit and will get in trouble. They’ve been desperately trying to reach me on what to do.

I finally responded to them assuring them that Maddie would never snitch on us. This eases their worries.

I lean over the Pier’s railing to see my distorted reflection.

“I like how you dressed today,” I say.

I lean back and observe my surroundings. Why would I come here?

I make my way over in between the Aquarium and the Great Wheel where the fountain sculpture is at. I sit on the stairway to give my legs a break and to reply to all the messages I’ve ignored.

I take a deep breath then shut my eyes. They practically slam down and I don’t attempt to see if I can open them. I scratch my palms on the rough texture of the concrete. Behind me, a group of kids are playing with the fountain and splashing the water all over the place. A skateboard rolls by beside me, jumping and landing below. A couple sitting on the benches below me are talking about the details of a project for their job. A group of friends are approaching from the front. They’re laughing through a story being told.

My friends used to be like them. We came here. The last time I came here was with them. It was the final day they would all stay friends with each other. It was about to snap, but it was still there. The dominoes that fell after Elizabeth’s death were rearing their ugly head. The ramifications of her revenge became too large to ignore.

But It’s still the most fun I ever had in my life. I haven’t forgotten a single detail. From exploring Pike’s Place, to adding my gum to the gum walls and walking down to the pier. Andrew jumped over the railing and into the sea for no reason. Emily and Cody got on the ferris wheel. Chris talked about the weirdest subjects and I was just there along the ride. I was just happy to be included and couldn’t see what was going on underneath. Cody and Andrew were at each other’s throats. Emily was trying to decide if she wanted to move in with her mom in New York. Sara’s desire to be left out went unnoticed.

It was supposed to be the perfect day.

But that day was also the day Andrew got in a car accident with Emily, which forced her to move to New York. Cody and Andrew fought because of it. Emily ended her friendship with Cody. Sara disappeared and tried to kill herself. And Chris eventually stopped coming to school less and less. That was the day I lost the friends I made when I was at my worthlessness and ugliest. Nothing has been right since that day.

I’m 18 now, but I haven’t grown past that 14 year old.

My eyes open.

I must have fallen asleep. I’m still deathly tired. I’m the kind of tired that sleep won’t fix.

I don’t look straight when I stand up and a guy bumps me back down to the ground. I guess he wasn’t looking. He lifts me up, apologizing but stopping midway once our eyes meet.

“Frank.”

“Twice in one month now. What a coincidence. Sorry, I wasn’t looking. See ya,”

I let him walk away.

Then I decide I don’t want him too.

“Hey, wait up!”

Frank stops and turns around, annoyed that he did. “Stop trying to be my friend, Grace. It’s not going to happen. We live in two different worlds.”

I keep some distance from him. “That’s not what I want.”

“Then leave me alone.”

“How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“The teasing. How were you able to brush it off everytime? It never bothered you.”

“Why do you care?”

“I just…” I clasp my hands infront of me. “Wanted to see if I could have done something else so I wouldn’t be either.”

Frank jerks his head back, “When were you ever made fun of?”

“You don’t remember. Nobody does. Back when we were freshman everyone called me Brainguts because of Elizabeth. And then a rumor started that I was a curse and brought misfortune for those around me after what happened to my friends. Everyone avoided me.”

Why am I even thinking about that?

Frank lowers his eyebrows and shuts his mouth. “I didn’t brush it off, Grace. I endured it. Why do you think I moved away last year?”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I tried my best to help you, y’know.”

“No, you didn’t. You’re Grace. People listen to you. If you truly did want to help me, you could have just told everyone to stop, but you didn’t.”

“I…see.”

Frank turns around and tries to leave again.

“No, wait!” I run up and close the gap in distance more when Frank stops again. “Why did you never stand up for yourself? Why did you never try to change what you were made fun of for?”

“It wasn’t worth my time. I wasn’t going to change what I like about myself. It was easier to move away to where everyone isn’t a prick.”

I take a few steps forward, stopping when I’m close enough to reach him if I extend my hand. “I tried to be your friend but I never bothered to learn a thing about you, did I?”

“That sums it up.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Your eyes are dead. Get some sleep.” He says.

“Y’know what? Fuck you. I’ve been nothing but nice to you and you’ve only been a dick. It’s no fucking wonder you never had any fucking friends. You’re just a fucking miserable loser. I should have never wasted my time you.”

Frank breaks away eye contact but doesn’t seem bothered. “I wished you were a little bit more honest back then.”

“And I’m glad you got shitted on. You fucking deserved it.”

Frank laughs. “Well aren’t you just a bitch? For a second, I thought I had you all wrong.”

“Fuck you!”

“Whatever, Grace. Leave me alone next time.”

I let him go.

A pair of girls walk past me. They’re laughing. “Oh my god, she smells like shit.”

It’s probably not directed at me.

I don’t care.

Rejection hurts, even at the smallest level. I’ve been hiding from my frustration the entire weekend. I haven’t slept but that’s nothing new. I’m used to not thinking straight. I can control it.

Behind me there’s a group of middle schoolers approaching. I take off running towards them, sprinting at them, yelling and screaming and flailing my arms around. They get scared and run off in the opposite direction. Someone calls me crazy and then I chase them away.

She’s crazy. She’s crazy. Madman. Stay away from her.

Is all I hear.

Then I start barking and howling at anyone who doesn’t run away from me. Barking and howling until everyone leaves.

My knees almost collapse, but I’m able to catch my breath and walk away.

I find where I parked and head home.

Today has been so different. Odd things keep happening to me.

I’m different from the rest of the world. I was born different. I know that much. I look human but I never felt like one. I have a hard time trying to understand them. I imitate them so I can pretend to. If I don’t do a good enough job, real humans can tell I’m not one of them. They’ll avoid me like a monster.

It doesn’t matter how good of a job I do. Deep down in their subconscious they know I’m not like them.

No one can truly ever love a monster.

I became the sun to be loved, and now no one can look at me.

But what sort of thinking is that?

It’s rumination.

I’ve been so fucking angry. I’ve stopped caring. Why do I care all of a sudden? It’s this fucking pull. I’m still pulled where there’s no one to find. I can’t describe it but something inside me is telling me to stop while I’m ahead. It’s begging me.

This isn’t me.

I’m afraid I’m going to reach a point that’ll be too hard for me to come back from. Fucking shit, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this by myself.

I need help.

I’m looking for answers when I don’t have the right tools to use. I’m inside a cubicle and I can’t leave to find the correct ones. I need someone outside my box. They’re not confined within the rules of inside my mind.

I need my mom.

She’s home.

I open the front door and she’s jogging down the stairs. “Mom, can we talk?”

She rushes to the kitchen to grab her keys but has trouble finding them. “Not right now, I have to leave. I need to make sure the girls are doing okay.”

“Wait, what happened?”

Mom finds her keys and turns around, confused. “Did Sara not call you?”

I vaguely remember getting a few texts from her driving back home. I haven’t opened them.

“Grace. Fey’s dad died.”

“...how?”

“We don’t know yet. He just collapsed,” Mom sighs, walking up to me at the front door. I get out of her way. “Can you make dinner tonight?”

“Wait, no, I need to talk…”

Mom stops before getting in her car. “Grace, Sara needs me. We can talk when I come back. You can wait.”

My hand is reaching out to her. It drops when she shuts the car door. “I need you…” I say only for my ears to hear.

She’s doing it again.

I’m not important enough.

I don’t come first.

It’s Sara who needs my mom’s full attention. It’s Andrew who needs her help.

I can’t fucking take it.

It’s strange.

She’s never been a mother at all. She’s been a cage of punishment my entire life. It’s a fitting one for a monster. To yearn for a warmth that burns as much as it brings comfort and to not want to share it.

I strip myself off my clothes in my room. Dried up sweat has fused onto my skin and has dirtied it. My hair has knots. I have to shave what has grown over the past three days. I smell.

I haven’t showered.

I do more lines in the bathroom.

I pour a random amount of rocks of MDMA into my mouth out the baggie. I shouldn’t have given away that fake Winter to Maddie. I don’t care if it’s temporary. I want it to tell me everything is going to be okay. This whole week I’ve been doing whatever I wanted without thought. I just have been me but now that Maddie got caught in the crossfire, I think I was still holding on to the light that is killing me. I still haven’t let it go.

I don’t care anymore.

My mom sure doesn’t.

I stare at my naked body’s reflection. It’s me. It’s Grace. Grace with the red eyes and dark circles under them. Grace with a clogged up nose. Grace with her tears sagging her cheeks.

Grace with the giant round eyes that she hates. Grace with a nose too small and lips too thin. Grace with a smile that doesn’t feel right to make. Grace who wishes she’s taller. Grace who wishes her breasts were bigger or smaller and can’t ever decide which she would prefer.

The Grace who just wants someone to love her.

The Grace who just wants to love herself.

It hurts me more and more. It rips through my flesh but it only damages my mind. It’s an illusion of which I’ll never be free from. I’ve obsessed my identity in relation to others and where has that left me? My soul has been rotting.

I crave affection.

I only desperately wanted for anyone to hear my wailing screams. But who can hear those screams when they’re masked with smiles? How could they know what’s behind them when they don’t even look at me? How do you save a fish drowning in the ocean?

Oh Virginia Woolf, aren't you nervous?