January 9th, 2014

Summerville, California.

I sat outside of the school counselor's office in the administration building. Roxy sat across from me, the girl held an ice pack against her nose. She had this, I’ll kill you later, type look to her. Her perked up nose now crooked and swollen. To be honest, it gave her more of a personality.

The door opened up and out came a slender middle aged woman. Her flamelike hair was in a tight bun, and her seafoam green eyes bounced from me to Roxy. I had never seen her before, she was new, different.

“Sorry for the wait ladies, I was on the phone with your mothers.” she said. My heart stopped for a second, she didn’t know what she just did. It wasn’t a stern talking to that waited for me back home, but hell.

She waved us in and as we entered the tiny office, she shut the door behind her. The woman sat behind the desk and motioned for us to sit. On her desk, a new name plate that read “Morgan Alessia.”. She clicked a few things on her computer then got out a notepad.

“Mr. Blake tells me you’re the two most popular girls in school.” her eyes bounced between us again. “You both seem to be example students, would you two consider yourselves rivals?” she asked. There were two answers for that question, and both of them were said. Roxy said yes, where I said no. Miss Alessia’s brow raised and then she jotted down some notes.

“Why do you feel differently Bonnie?” Alessia asked. That wasn't a simple question to answer.

“We're not the same.” I said.

Roxy rolled her eyes and groaned. “Bonnie doesn’t think anybody is her equal.” she said. That wasn’t true, Isabelle was, in fact she was better than me. Miss Alessia peered at Roxy with inquisitive eyes.

“What makes you say that Miss Noble?” The girl set the ice pack down on her lap and looked over at me.

“Ever since we were kids she’s always been above everybody else. She doesn’t have friends, she has fans.” Roxy said. That wasn’t true, Isabelle was my friend.

Miss Alessia looked at me with sad knowing eyes. “Mr. Blake tells me you get along with most of your peers, that they all like you, surely you have friends.” she asked me.

“Roxy doesn’t know what she’s talking about, she doesn’t know me.” I said.

The girl scoffed, “I know you plenty Roseman.” the words were barbed.

The counselor cocked her head and a sly smile formed across her face. “I think I have an idea of what’s going on. Have you girls ever actually talked to each other?” We looked at one another. Despite our years spent together, she was right, we had never had an actual conversation. “You might find you actually like each other.” Alessia said.

“Bonnie’s never been interested in talking, I’ve tried.” She was lying, she had to be lying.

“Is that true Miss Roseman?” Alessia asked.

“No, it’s not, she’s lying.” I snapped.

Roxy looked defeated, like she had just been betrayed. She was nothing to me, let alone a potential friend. The counselor wrote on two slips of paper and then signed them.

“Okay, every Thursday I want us to meet in the library and you two are just gonna talk.” Alessia said. “This is mandatory, we're gonna work through whatever problems you girls have.” she continued. Roxy got up from her chair in a flash.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Are you kidding me? Is this some sort of joke?” she spat. The counselor shook her head.

“You can go to class Miss Noble, I’ll come collect you thursday.” She handed her one of the slips. “Give this to your study hall teacher.” Roxy stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind her.

“Can I go to class now too?” I asked. She took a deep breath and looked at me through ancient eyes. Eyes that claimed to know me.

“Bonnie, I once knew a girl just like you.” she got that sad look again. “So many people loved her, but she was alone. Only one person truly connected with her.”

“What happened to her?” I asked, but probably didn’t want to know the answer.

She let out a somber sigh. “She died alone, just as she lived.” The tension in the air was like lightning. She dug through her drawer and took out a locket. “You have the ability to change peoples lives, I know you do, because she did.” She handed me the locket. “Her name was Esther, and this was hers.”

I opened it up and it was empty, where there should be a picture were two sets of Initials, E.R, and J.N. “Why are you giving this to me? You don’t even know me?” She leaned back and then slid the second slip across the table. “Call it a gut feeling.” she said, and then waved me out of the room.

***

The rest of the school day was uneventful. Roxy and I avoided each other like the plague, and I’d probably barely see her until thursday. What was her problem lying to the counselor like that, what was she thinking. Isabelle couldn’t stop talking about me punching her in the nose. While her excitement was invigorating, I honestly wanted to forget about the whole thing.

The locket sat in my sweater pocket all day, my thumb rubbed against its edges and during my classes I was deep in thought about the girl it belonged to. A personality wasn’t the only thing we shared, Esther is my middle name. It was crazy, but coincidental. Esther R, and whoever S.B. was. Who were they to each other? These questions plagued me all the way until I got off the school bus and made my way home. All the way to the front door. My heart stopped beating the moment I touched the handle leading me to hell.

***

When I stepped through, she was sitting at the kitchen table. A bottle of wine in front of her. She looked lost in thought, I don’t think she noticed me come in. “How was your day Mom?” I asked. Her eyes shot up at me, anger crossing her face.

“Why are you such an embarrassment?” she asked in a low voice.

“What?” I sighed.

She got to her feet. “You heard me, girl. Why do you have to embarrass me so much?” her fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. “Mom, I think you need to put the wine away, can we just talk?” I said calmly. Her eyes widened and she started to laugh.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?” she threw the bottle at my head. I was quick enough and it smashed against the wall, red wine staining the white wall like blood.

“You need some fucking help.” I said and started up the stairs. She dashed forward to intercept me and grabbed me by the back of my head and pulled my hair.

“You think you can just get away with the things you do?” she pulled my head back and then hit me across the face with her fist. She slammed me against the wall and I slumped onto the floor. She screamed at me, and then kicked me in the stomach. I wanted to fight back, but I couldn’t. Fighting would have just caused more problems, it was better to just wait it out.

“You’re gonna apologize to that girl, or you’re gonna get it worse tomorrow.” She kicked me again. “I fucking promise you that, you god damn brat.” she screeched. I got to my feet, and then ran upstairs tears and blood streaming down my face. When I made it to my room I collapsed on my bed and screamed into my pillows. Why couldn’t I just fight back? Why couldn’t I stand up for myself. I wiped my nose and saw the blood on my hands. It had gotten onto Isabelle's sweater, she had ruined it. Like she ruins everything.

***

A few hours later I made my way into the bathroom down the hall. I couldn’t feel anything, all of my extremities were numb. My legs felt like they were about to give out, my heart raced. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt disgusted.

The longer I stood there, the longer I felt empty. Like there was nothing else I could give, no love, no hate. I was just pain, that’s all I am, and all I was ever going to be. I was looking at myself, and what happened was almost automatic. I didn’t think about it, I didn’t even feel it. My body craved feeling, something, anything. Sweet euphoria rushed over me as my blood poured out of my wrists. Down my skin, and into the sink. It was release, it was ecstasy, and I wanted more.