“It’s okay,” Tobias says as he gently rubs my back in a circular motion.
“It’s not okay, Tobias. A boy I’ve known for years came into the class with a weapon and killed our teacher and himself. What pushes someone to that point? To snap and think it’s okay to take another life?”
Tobias lifts his shoulders. “No one knows the road Tyler traveled, Ivy. Only he does. We have no idea of his home life or the state his mind was in.”
“Sweetheart, if he bought guns into the school, it wasn’t a decision he came to easily,” Dad says.
“Does that mean we failed him?” I ask Dad.
“What do you mean, Ivy?” Michael asks.
“If maybe I reached out to him after he was suspended, maybe I would’ve known what he was planning and I might have been able to help him.”
“You are not responsible for the decisions other people make, Ivy. You’re responsible for the decisions you make,” Dad says. “Just your decisions and no one else’s.”
Nodding, I burst into tears again and bury my head in Tobias’s chest.
Tobias hugs me, but an overwhelming feeling of guilt overtakes me and his hug does nothing to console me.
I should’ve done more.
I should’ve done something.
Anything.
Ivy…
The hair on my arms stand to attention.
Azael’s here. And he wants me.
Tonight, when I get home and I’m alone, he can have me.
Once and for all.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
“The wound was deep, but we managed to stop the bleeding. She needed stitches in both her arms. Has she done anything like this before?” I hear a strange female talking.
“No. But she’s had a difficult day at school.”
“Yes, I heard about it.”
“My daughter was in the class when it happened.”
“I’d suggest she get some good psychiatric help. She’s obviously not coping with it well.”
“I’ll do what I have to in order to make sure she’s healthy,” Dad answers gruffly.
“Everyone here knows who your daughter is. No one thinks she’s weak, but she probably does. We all think she’s a very brave person. She ran toward her teacher and tried to save her life. That takes courage.”
“Thank you.” Dad sighs heavily. “Will she be okay?”
“It’s lucky you got her to us when you did. A few more minutes, and I don’t think we would’ve been able to save her.”
I hear Dad puff in frustration. “I should’ve known this was going to happen.” His voice breaks and I can hear the hurt coming from deep inside him.
“I’m not an expert in mental health, Mr. Jones, but I do think after a traumatic event like Ivy experienced, this may be her way of calling out for help even if she says she doesn’t need it. Please, listen to her body and not her mouth. Kids think there’s a stigma attached to mental health. They hear of someone who’s seeing a counselor and immediately paint them as crazy. But you and I know that’s not what it’s about. Sometimes, seeing a mental health professional is a safe place to get everything off our chest without judgement.”
I’m not sure what happens next, except the room is empty and Azael comes to me.
You’re a disappointment to me, Ivy. I thought you were going to be my greatest achievement, but you’re useless.
“You’ve done your damage. Go away and leave me alone,” I say to him.
I gave you one task, and you couldn’t even do that right.
Turning my head, I find his faceless form in front of me. With tears in my eyes, but determination bursting through me, I grit my teeth at him. “You’re not welcome here.”
He laughs at me.
And he leaves.
And I’m left to suffer with my own thoughts.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
“Daddy?” I say. Trying to swallow is hard. My throat is irritated and scratchy.
“Ivy.” I feel his warm hand around mine gently squeezing it. “What did you do?” his voice is harsh. Opening my eyes, I look over and see him hanging his head down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t scold you.”
Looking down at my hands, I notice the bandages wrapped from my wrists halfway up to my elbows.
How I got here is foggy in my memory, but from the fact Azael is nearby, I know he had something to do with it. “What happened?” I ask, though deep inside me I already know the answer.
Dad scrunches his brows, while his thumb gently glides over the bandage. “You went for a shower, and when you didn’t answer after I called you for dinner, I broke in… and found you.” Tears fill his eyes as he purses his lips together. “You scared me,” he whispers in a gravelly voice.
“I’m sorry,” I reply, my own eyes brimming with tears. I swallow hard, and try to make up an excuse in my head I can tell Dad. “… I…”
“Please, don’t lie to me, Ivy.”
My heart jumps as I take a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. What can I tell him? That I have a demon who lives inside me and tells me to I cut myself? I can’t explain that. He wouldn’t understand. “… I…” I take another deep breath, ready to tell him.
“You were in a terrifying situation, and it’s messed with your head.”
Blinking back the tears, I feel relieved. Dad’s unknowingly thrown me a lifeline. He doesn’t realize what he’s done. “Yes,” I say. But my heart is tearing itself apart. I’m ashamed of myself, and disgusted. But I just can’t tell him the truth. It’s humiliating. It’ll make Dad embarrassed to be my father.
Hell, I’m embarrassed for myself.
“I don’t care what you say, Ivy, but I’m going to get you help.”
“I don’t need help,” I protest. “I’m not crazy. Only crazy people see shrinks.”
“I didn’t say you were crazy. But with what happened at school, and with this…” He pointedly looks to the bandages. “You need help to get through this. Even I need help, Ivy. We’ll go together.”
My entire body becomes rigid. I don’t want to go to a shrink to begin with, but having my Dad in there with me is even more terrifying then going on my own.
“No, I don’t want you to go with me.”
“Then you’ll go on your own?”
Reluctantly I nod my head. If I have to see a head doctor, then I’m doing it without dad in the same room. I don’t want him hearing what goes through my head.
Don’t tell them about me, Ivy.
My monster is right, I shouldn’t tell them about him. They won’t understand. No one will. Not even the shrink. They’ll probably try to commit me to an institute under the guise of saying I’ll self-harm.
“I’ll go on my own,” I say to Dad. But I definitely won’t tell them about Azael. He’s my secret.
“I’ll find a doctor who can help you.” Dad manages a weak smile. His eyes tell a different story though, they’re sad and for some reason, it feels like he has his own secrets.
“Are you okay?”
Dad’s chin quivers and his eyes redden. “You scared me. I can’t lose you.”
A huge lump sits at the base of my throat. I’m so ashamed of myself. Here I am praying he doesn’t discover my secret. “I’m sorry.”
My mind has cleared, and I remember every moment of what I did. From the minute I arrived home, he was whispering to me.
He promised me he could take my pain away.
I locked myself in the bathroom and turned the water on. Getting my blade. I didn’t even have to think about it. I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted everything to end.
He always makes empty promises, but nothing he pledges ever works out.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, this time in a much quieter voice.
Dad stands and leans over the bed, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I know you are.” He kisses me gently again. “I’ll go get a nurse, tell them you’re awake.”
My heart shatters.
I’ve disappointed Dad. And that kills me.
The door closes and I’m left alone in this sterile white room. I have a drip in my arm and there’s a monitor beside my bed. There’s a small clamp over my finger and when I take it off, I notice the monitor beside the bed begins to screech.
The door opens and Dad and a young guy dressed in a uniform enter the room. I have no idea who he is. “Hi, Ivy. I’m Matthew, one of the nurses on duty tonight. I’d like to see how you’re doing. Is that okay?”
Dad sits beside the bed, while the nurse stands on the opposite side. “Sure,” I reply.
“I’m going to undress your wrists, and see how the stitches are doing, okay?” He’s talking to me as if I’m made of glass and I’m going to shatter if he uses anything more than his softest voice.
“That’s fine.”
I lie back in bed and close my eyes. I suppose he has to be careful around me. He has no idea how volatile I am, or even why I did what I did. I feel him carefully unwrapping the bandage. “We all heard what you did for Mrs. Richards,” he says as he continues his examination of my arm. “We’re proud of your courage.”
A tear falls from my eye. “It wasn’t courage that made me go to her.”
“Then what was it?”
“I was hoping I could help her. She didn’t deserve what happened.”
“No one deserves to be killed at work,” Matthew says. “But what you did…”
“Is what anyone would’ve done.”
“You’d be surprised. Some people freeze when confronted with a traumatic experience. Some people run from it, and some people run toward it.”
“I just wanted to help her. I like… liked Mrs. Richards.”
The room becomes uncomfortably quiet, with no one saying a word. This continues until Matthew dresses my wrist and moves to look at the other one. “They’re looking good,” he says.
“Great,” I mumble under my breath.
“Are you disappointed?” My gaze flies to his eyes. Tilting my head to the side, I open my mouth to say something. What, I have no idea. “This would be all too much for someone who’s older, and with more life experience, to handle. I can only imagine how it is for you.”
Lowering my eyes, I opt to not respond. My demon is now hiding deep inside me. If only I could tell them, maybe they could find a way to make him leave me alone. But I don’t dare.
“This one is looking good too. I’ll be back tonight to dress them again.” Matthew stands and moves to the door. “I’ll see you this evening, Ivy.”
Nodding, I watch as he leaves. I’m too ashamed to look at Dad. I know he’s not judging me, but I’m judging me. I hate knowing I’m the one who’s put hurt in his eyes.
I move my free hand under the blanket to lay it on my thigh, and in that moment, I realize I’m not wearing my jeans covered in Mrs. Richards blood, which now they would have my blood all over them, too. Shock chills me to the bone. If they took off my clothes and put me in this gown, they all know my dirty little secret. Have they told Dad?
“I’m tired,” I weakly say to Dad as I turn away from him.
“Go to sleep, sweetheart.”
You’re such a disappointment, Azael sneers.
Tears pool in my eyes, and I silently cry to myself. This isn’t a pity party for one, it’s the fact I’ve let everyone down, and now they know it.
Dad.
Mrs. Richards.
Him.
And probably Tobias.
Tears fall from my eyes as I pray to God, if there is one, to take me and spare everyone else the pain I cause them. “Please God, stop my heart. I’m not worth anything to anyone,” I quietly pray. I don’t want my Dad to hear me and to worry any more than he already is. “Please…” I whisper again. The tears fall on the pillow as I quietly beg God to take me. I can’t keep going.
It’s time to end this.
Yes, Ivy, let’s finish this together.
Opening my eyes, I see Azael. He’s petting my hair, ready to take me. And I’m ready to go to him.
“Ivy,” Dad calls to me, rousing me from sleep.
“Hmm,” I mumble as I turn my head and open my eyes.
“Sweetheart, Tobias is here.”
I blink a few times trying to focus on the bodies in the room. Tobias is standing beside my bed, and Dad’s on the opposite side. Both are gazing down at me. I can see the hurt and pity in Tobias’s eyes. Focusing on Dad, I realize my demon didn’t take me in my sleep. I thought he wanted me. Does he now regret ever finding me? Does he now not want me?
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I gather all my strength to put on a fake smile.
“I’m going to get a coffee. Are you okay?” Dad asks.
I nod my head. Dad walks out of the room, and now I’m left with Tobias standing beside my bed, staring at the bandages.
Silence enshrouds us. The quiet is deafening. My pulse vibrates in my ears, causing me to stir uncomfortably.
“Why?” he asks in a soft voice. “Why would you do something like this?” He gestures to my wrists.
“You wouldn’t…”
“Bullshit,” he shouts at me.
Flinching, I refuse to make eye contact with him.
“Don’t you dare say I wouldn’t understand, Ivy. You have no idea the fucked-up shit I’ve been through, but I have never thought of killing myself.”
Drawing my brows together, I try to raise my head to look at him, but I can’t. I’m too ashamed. “You…”
“Don’t you dare,” he hisses through a clenched jaw. “You owe me an explanation.”
“I…” I start saying something, but stop myself. I can’t tell him.
“If you’re going to feed some made-up bullshit excuse, I don’t want to hear it.”
I pick at an invisible thread on the blanket. “I don’t know what to tell you,” I finally manage.
“Don’t lie to me. Just tell me the truth,” his tone softens. Tobias turns away from the bed and begins to pace. Running his hand through his hair, he huffs in frustration. “I can’t deal with lies. If you’re going to lie, I have to walk away. Not because I don’t love you. But I have my own problems, and I can’t risk my own mental health. I have to protect myself and my family.”
Swinging my head up, I try to understand what he’s trying to say. “What do you mean?”
“Lies are something I can’t handle.”
Taking a few deep breaths, I wait a moment for him to calm down and stop pacing. But it takes more than a moment, more like two or three before he comes to sit in the chair Dad was sitting in. He leans forward and hangs his head. He’s probably disappointed in me too.
“You’ve told me you love me… twice.”
He looks up at me. “Yes, I have. Because I do.”
My heart skips a beat and the darkness inside is momentarily pierced by light. “Why?” I ask with tears forming in my eyes. “I don’t want you to tell me you love me because I’m beautiful, or kind, or any of that crap, I want to know why you think I’m worthy of being loved.”
Tilting his head to the side, he scrubs both hands over his face. “You think you’re not worthy?”
“Noooo…” I stutter, voice shaky.
“This is bullshit, Ivy. I told you to not lie to me.” He points a finger at me as he stands again. “That ‘no’ was forced, which means you think you honestly don’t think you deserved to be loved. What is going on with you? Why would you think that?” He walks to the door and leans against it.
“I didn’t say that.” Tears fall from my eyes.
“Bullshit,” he calls me on my lie. He’s right, I am lying. “Tell me. Why did you do that?” He points to my wrists again. “What makes you think you need to end your life?”
If I want Tobias to stay in my life, I’m going to have to tell him something. But I simply can’t tell him about my demon. He won’t underst
and. “Mrs. Richards…” A lump quickly rises to the back of my throat. “Her eyes,” I admit for the first time to him and to myself. “When I looked into her eyes, they glassed over.” I glance away from Tobias, and a movie replays in my head. A movie of the moment Mrs. Richards died. It’s like I saw her soul disappear. She died beneath my touch. “I saw her whole life flash before her. I saw a woman who’s a teacher, a well-respected person in our community, a wife and a mother, die in front of me.”
“You didn’t kill her.”
“She was loved by so many people, and she died.”
“That’s not on you, Ivy. Tyler made the decision to kill her. He’s to blame here.”
“But she died.”
“Because Tyler took her life, not you.”
“Her eyes, Tobias. Something happened when I saw her eyes glass over.”
“What happened?” he asks moving closer to me.
“I don’t know, I can’t tell you. Something I can’t explain.”
“Ivy, why did you try to kill yourself?” he flatly asks.
The question should surprise me, but it doesn’t. I’ve been preparing for this since the first time I took a blade to my skin. Why? Why do this?
“Because it felt so good to just let everything go.”
“What do you mean?”
I decide to be as honest as I can, without telling him how often I cut. “For a moment, for a split second when the blade pierced my skin I felt…” I gaze away and try to think of the right words. “I felt at peace. Like the world was finally sane, and for that tiny moment, I felt like I had found my place. Like I had not one worry. I was safe, and no one could take it away.”
Tobias’s right eye twitches as he frowns at me. “Everything was quiet,” he whispers.
My heart leaps out of my chest. He understands. “Yes.”
“Everything was perfect,” he adds.
“Everything was.” I look down to my bandages and lift them to show Tobias. “But this makes it not perfect.”
Tobias slowly strolls over to me. “You have to tell me the truth, Ivy.”
“I am.”
“You’re a cutter, aren’t you? This wasn’t the first time you took a blade to your sk in, was it?”
Drowning Page 15
