I wake again, this time for real, in darkness, on the floor by Aliceâs bed.
The blood is gone.
But Alice is here.
Her eyes are open, small white lights in the blackness. A fresh gauze wrapped around her head.
âYouâre home,â I say, because itâs all I can think.
âIâm home,â she whispers.
I reach up to hold her hand, and to my surprise, she lets me.
âI didnât mean to hurt you,â I say.
âI know,â she says. âI didnât mean to get hurt.â She rolls over to stare at the ceiling. âI just kept thinking maybe I could fly as high as I feel. I could fly out of myself and finally be free.â A tear streaks from the corner of her eye onto the sheets, making a dark, wet circle.
âI told Dad,â I whisper. âAbout the medicine.â
âI know.â
âWhat happens now?â
Alice breathes out, long and slow. âTheyâve pumped me full of all sorts of meds,â she says. âSo I guess, first, I fade away.â
She says this so hopelessly, it crushes me. And all I can think is how she swam out to save me. How she must have been terrified, but she pretended to be fearlessâfor me. And Iâve failed her.
âMaybe you wonât.â
She laughs, a forced chuckle full of hurt. âI will. But maybe thatâs not so bad. Maybe everyone will be better off without me.â
I donât tell her that I feel the exact same way. Weâve had enough truthâenough painâfor one day. I lay my head against her bed, our hands clasped together as we drift off.
â
When I open my eyes again, the room spins. I steady myself on Aliceâs mattress to stand up, trying not to wake her. My head feels light, disconnected, like it could topple off my body if I let it. My side hurts, too, and I lift my shirt to examine the infected wound, which now has angry red streaks that reach, like little fingers, toward my heart. Iâm chilled to my core, but my skin is sticky with sweat.
Even though Iâm tipsy, a strange energy surges through me.
My mind is alive with a million scattered thoughts.
And Aliceâs words burst through the rest, loudloudloud.
The words take my breath way.
And yet, thereâs something familiar in them. Like the answer has been there, staring me in the face, waiting for me to wake up and listen. Like Iâve known it all along.
Isnât this what the monsters have been telling me?
Isnât that why I slip out of myself? Why the tug of the ocean felt so easy? Why I imagined jumping into the Grand Canyon?
Thatâs when I see the box, tucked under my bed. I slide across the floor, sweep my arm, and pull it out. I run my finger across all the razors and pencil sharpeners and scissors. Maybe Alice had it right on the Night of the Bathroom Floor. If pain is all weâre going to feel anyway, why not bring it on?
No!
I shove the blades away from me. I canât do that to Dad. To Margot. To Micah.
I push the box back under the bed and grab my phone instead. I could call someone. Micah. Or Sam. I could tell someone that my brain is finally breaking. They could help me.
I hold my head, try to shake out the monsters. But they wonât go. Wonât shut up.
Other words swirl through me. Dad. Margot. Micah. Alice.
I grab a pen and a hot-pink Post-it note off Aliceâs desk and write down the words I can catch.
My heart has gone wild, bursting through my chest.
This room is shrinking.
I have to get out.
I put on my sneakers and make my way down the stairs, gripping the handrail all the way so I donât fall.
I step into the night air.
And I do the only thing I can.
Run.
10 likes Listen up, Undergrounders. Micah Mendez is looking for Lily Larkin tonight. Please message if youâve seen her. URGENT.
0 comments