The Anything Friend

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The Anything Friend Page 4

by Michela DiMarco

CHAPTER 4

  "There’s an emptiness inside her, and she'd do anything to fill it in. And though it's red blood bleeding from her now, it's more like cold, blue ice in her heart. She feels like kickin' out all the windows, and setting fire to this life -- she would change everything about it, using colors bold & bright. But all the colors mix together - to grey - and it breaks her heart.” Dave Matthews Band

  Elizabeth had been dodging her friends for several days now. She had her first Calculus test the following day and wondered why any teacher would be so cruel to give a big test on a Friday, only to ruin her weekend worrying about what grade she got. Trying to explain to Angela that she needed space was somehow translated into “don’t leave me alone.” Angela de Paulo was on a relentless pursuit to find out what Elizabeth had been up to and why she had been so distant lately.

  Just as she was entering her Calculus class, she was yanked backwards by someone pulling on her backpack. “What’s up buddy?” asked Angela. The tone in her voice was of pure frustration. “You don’t return texts, e-mails, phone calls, Facebook messages…shall I go on?”

  “No,” Elizabeth looked down. She couldn’t explain why she wanted to be alone all the time. She felt like an infectious disease that would bring negativity to everyone around her if she talked to them. “You’re right. I’ve been avoiding you.” Angela looked more upset. “Not on purpose. I’ve just been busy.”

 

  “Busy with?” Her tone was sounding angrier now than frustrated.

  “My classes are hard. I have a lot more homework than last year. My mom has been on my case…”

  “Excuse me, ladies,” interrupted Jack. They were blocking the door to the classroom.

  “Oh, sorry,” mumbled Elizabeth. She moved back and he swiftly walked past them. She looked at Angela. “I have to get in class. I have a huge Calc test tomorrow. But I promise I’ll call you after school. Okay?”

  “If you don’t, I’m going to keep stalking you.”

  Elizabeth glanced in the classroom once Angela was out of sight. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead. She gasped for a breath of air. “Not now,” she whispered to herself. The figures in the classroom became blurry. Elizabeth looked down the hall and took off running for the girl’s locker room. She threw her backpack on the locker room floor and paced around the shower room tugging on her hair with both hands.

  “Stop!” she screamed. She fell to the floor and crawled to her backpack. Her hands trembled as she dug deep in her backpack searching for her paper scalpel. Without even thinking, she jammed the scalpel into her upper left arm. Immediately, the blood spread up and down her white blouse so rapidly it reached her shoulder and under her vest. The blood was hot and sticky and the pain began fading as the endorphins kicked in. Her inability to breath started to subside. The tremors from her panic attack receded. She carefully placed the scalpel back in her backpack and slid horizontally on the shower room floor.

  When Elizabeth woke up, her mother was standing over her yelling for the nurse. She tried to sit up, but instantaneously become light headed.

  “What did you do to yourself?” her mother asked furious. Elizabeth closed her eyes, turning her face from her mom. “Answer me, damn it!”

  The nurse walked in the room just in time. “Mrs. Benson, I’m going to have to ask you to step outside the room while I examine your daughter.”

  Leighton was arguing with the nurse as she was escorted into the hallway. Elizabeth visually gave herself an exam. Her school uniform had been replaced with an old hospital gown. An IV needle was connected to the top of her right hand. She looked up to see a bag dispensing clear liquid into the IV. Her left arm was bandaged tightly. The short, stocky nurse walked back into the room and closed the door behind her.

  “Your mother’s been worried about you.” Elizabeth wondered if the nurse actually believed that or if her mother was more concerned about what other people would think. “What did you use?”

  Elizabeth looked away from the woman. “It was an accident.”

  “Look, I work in an emergency room. I see a lot of things. If you think you’re the first girl to come in here with injuries like that, you’re wrong. What happened to your arm?”

  “I said it was an accident,” she answered more adamant. The nurse stood there staring. Elizabeth sighed. Her mother was going to freak out on her if she found out the truth. “I got ink on my shirt and I went to the locker room to wash it off. I was trying to hurry so I wouldn’t miss a lot of my Calculus class because I have a huge test tomorrow. Water wasn’t working so I thought I pulled my Tide-to-Go stick out of my backpack and I must have mistaken it for my art scalpel.”

  “That’s the truth?”

  “Yes. I told you already, it was an accident.”

  “And your legs? Those were Tide-to-Go stick injuries, as well?”

  Elizabeth’s chest began pounding. Her body started trembling and she could feel herself begin to sweat even though she felt chilly. She pulled the blanket up over her head. She was scared. Scared not of what she had done but the consequences that would follow. Her mom would exaggerate her cutting into being suicidal. Elizabeth wasn’t suicidal; she was trying to control her emotional pain. “I can’t breathe!” screamed Elizabeth! “Leave me alone!”

  The doctor came rushing in the room. Elizabeth was so far into her panic attack that she could barely make out the screams of her mother in the hallway. The doctor pushed a syringe into the IV and started asking her questions about where she was. Elizabeth couldn’t focus on anything. It felt like she was choking. She thought she was going to die.

 

 

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