He’s trying to find a way to help her, but bit by bit he’s starting to realize that he already is helping her, he doesn’t need to know her whole story before he can start to help, because telling her story is already freeing her from the pain, it’s helping her a little bit more with each page, but it’s still not enough, not yet. He turns his head to look at her, noticing that her eyes are open, and she’s been looking at him while he was lost in thought; when his eyes meet hers they both freeze for a second, before she looks away and sits up with her knees to her chest.
‘You finished the letter?’
‘Yeah I did.’ He nods his head slowly, keeping his eyes on her even though she is looking away, keeping her gaze firmly on the red and brown blanket beneath them.
‘What did you think?’ She asks as if asking for a review on a book and not a part of her life that she’d written down.
‘I think your school needs to rethink their punishments, that girl set fire to your hair, she caused you physical pain with those burns, as well as huge amounts of emotional damage, yet all she gets is detention! She should have been expelled, or they should have called the police, they should have done something more.’ He shakes his head in quiet anger.
‘Her father was very rich.’ River shrugs her shoulders, focusing her gaze ahead of her.
‘That doesn’t make it right.’ He replies instantly.
‘No – but it makes it a lot easier to sweep under the rug. I can’t even say anything about it, because my parents have used their money to sweep things away before. It just turned out that this time; the other girl’s parents were richer, so they carried more persuasion.’ River looks over at him, ‘Don’t give me that look; I know the whole system is broken, I don’t agree with it, but it’s how things work at that school.’
‘I don’t understand how people can get away with that, letting innocent people get hurt, because they’ll earn a good profit.’ Oliver rubs his hand over his forehead. ‘I don’t understand it.’
‘That’s because you’re so,’
‘Poor?’ He smirks.
‘Kind hearted.’ She counters with a light laugh. ‘You know as far as I can see, you’re surrounded by good people, I wasn’t. I was surrounded by greed. That school is the center of it all, the “must have” generation of kids. All of them just doing whatever they like, getting whatever they want, and getting away with everything, because they’re rich. It’s part of why my mom changed my grades, because she wanted more for me, so she just reached out and took it, I can’t blame her entirely, it was just how she was raised.’ River explains as best she can her thoughts, though in her mind they are a lot more complicated, and a lot more angry.
‘You weren’t raised that way, you see things as they really are, you can see the way things should be done, and you can see that money shouldn’t be at the root of everything. You don’t take whatever you want, or shove people over to get to where you want to be.’ Oliver points out.
‘No well you can thank my father for that. He wasn’t brought up in this world; he came from a very poor background, and he built his way up honestly, with a lot of hard work and trial and error, but now he’s successful and earns a lot of money, but for the most part he’s the same man, and he taught me to do things the right way, the fair and honest way. I get most of it from my father; the rest is just my own opinions, my own judgments. My father opened my eyes to other kinds of life; it was up to me what I saw with them.’ River leans herself back slightly to look up at the sky, the white clouds drifting slowly across it. Oliver is quiet for a while, taking in everything she just said.
‘I like how you put that, I’ve never thought of it like that before, your parents open your eyes, but you chose how you see things.’ He shakes his head, ‘I spent time doing a psychiatric rotation, and I couldn’t have come up with anything like that. I’m impressed.’
‘It’s not that impressive, it’s just the way I see things.’ River keeps her eyes ahead of her, feeling her cheeks start to color. ‘Why do you care? I mean I’m just another patient right?’
‘No – you’re not.’ He shakes his head and then looks back out over the city, trying to get his thoughts in line, so he can express things more eloquently like she just did, but she speaks before he can say anything.
‘I’m nothing special.’ He knows that she’s not saying it to get compliments; she truly believes that she isn’t special.
‘River come here,’ He stands up and offers his hand to her, she looks at him in confusion for a few seconds, but then complies without question, sliding her hand into his and allowing herself to be pulled up, he keeps hold of her hand and walks her to the edge. ‘You see all those people down there?’ He points his spare hand down over the railings, to the busy street.
‘Yeah I see them.’ She leans a little over the railings to get a better view.
‘Every single one of them is special, they all matter to somebody even if they don’t realize it, and it can be the smallest little thing that makes them special, from saving someone’s life, to helping someone across the street. Every person matters and everyone is special. You’ve been through a lot and look at you, you’re still standing, still willing to try and fight against it, you’re strong and you’re kind. Do you remember the first thing you ever said to me?’
‘Not really.’ She shrugs trying to think back to the day she’d first spoken to him, it wasn’t the first time they’d met, it was later than that, before she’d decided to ask him what he wanted her to do, it had been a while before that, and maybe her speaking to him then, was what had made him come up with the letter idea, because he realized hope wasn’t lost for her. Whatever she’d said that day, she was glad that she’d said it.
‘It was a really busy day, and I was completely stressed out, I had just lost a patient and wasn’t doing so good, I came to check on you and you asked me if I was ok, do you see what I mean?’
‘Not really.’ She says again.
‘You hadn’t spoken a word in weeks, you were going through so much stuff, but I looked unhappy and so you asked me if I was ok, that kind of compassion is special, you noticed I wasn’t doing well, and it concerned you enough to make you speak, even though you were in a bad place yourself. So don’t ever say you’re not special, because I don’t want to hear it.’ Oliver states this last part firmly, though he’d begun speaking in a caring tone, he’d needed to put that last point across firmly.
Chapter Nine
Letter 5
You’re nice; did anyone ever tell you that before? I bet they have because honestly Oliver, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with a heart like yours, and I’m not just saying that because you’re helping me, or because you bought me that new notebook, which by the way I love. Those are just a couple of the reasons why you’re nice. I guess I should have guessed you were going to be a good guy, because why else would you dedicate yourself to figuring out my mess, it doesn’t make sense because lesser people would give up, in fact plenty of good people have already given up on me, which proves how special and nice you are. So I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate it, because it’s easier to write it down, but I would never want you to think I didn’t appreciate what you’re doing. So I just thought I would open up this letter with a note to you, because you deserve to know how special you are. I think if there had been someone in my life who could have done that for me, been there and been so unwaveringly kind, I never would have ended up in this place.
I don’t want to put all of the blame on other people though; I know that I played a role in getting where I am. I didn’t handle things well back then, and I can try and justify it by saying I was a kid, I was going through a lot, and I couldn’t cope, but that’s just a stupid excuse, I should have been better able to handle things. I was offered lifelines at times, for instance after the hair incident, I was told I had to go and see the therapist, but I couldn’t face sitting there and talking about what was going on, some part of me wanted to pretend t
hat none of it was real, like if I just kept it to myself, it wouldn’t be real, I wanted to distance myself from the problems, so I didn’t ever show up to any of the sessions. I look back on that choice now and think I made the wrong one; it probably would have helped if I’d talked to someone then, and things might not have gotten this bad. At the time I remember thinking there was no point going, what could they really do to help me? They couldn’t punish the entire school for bullying me, they wouldn’t be able to, and I told myself that they wouldn’t even try. I was scared that they wouldn’t believe me, because my brother hadn’t, he’d thought I was overreacting, and that had knocked me a lot, so I just decided it would be easier to handle it on my own. That however meant that I had to put on the appearance of being ok, and that involved turning up to school more often, and trying to seem interested in what I was learning. So I started attending classes everyday again, I tried my hardest to keep my grades at a good passing level, and to catch up on all the work I had missed. I was doing quite well academically speaking. The social side of school still gave me nightmares, I used to stay up all night worried over what they might do, feeling shaken and sick before anything ever happened, because I knew that inevitably something would happen. There always was something, it seemed like playing tricks on me had become sport to them, I suppose they might not have thought much of it, they were bored high school students looking for some fun, and filling my locker with soapy water was fun for them, and fine I could probably have seen the funny side once, but what each person didn’t seem to realize, was that all of their pranks born out of boredom, were all directed at me, because Kim’s dislike of me had started a trend, they needed someone to play a prank on, Kim gave them someone. My mother changing my grades, that was a bonus for them, they now had some justification for what they were doing. To them it must have seemed like no big deal, because take one isolated event and it isn’t too earth shattering, it’s just a prank, but start adding them up, and mix them in with the ever increasing emails, and you’ve got just about more than I can handle.
Just when I thought going to school couldn’t get any worse though, there was the dance. I think I mentioned before that my mother, before she left her job at the school, was arranging a dance with a local boy’s school, well the time had arrived for that dance, and I was not planning on going. As you can probably guess, I had no desire or intention of going to a dance with a bunch of kids who hated me, who would want to do that?
This is where Jasper comes into the story, and before you ask because I know you’ll ask, he isn’t my boyfriend, never was and never will be. He was a guy that I’d met at a previous school event, a bake sale I think, which our schools had put on to raise money for some arts foundation, and then we’d met again when we’d both volunteered for a building project through the school, and while we hadn’t exactly become friends, we knew each other and had always been friendly with one another.
A couple of days before the dance was due to take place, he said that he hadn’t been planning on going to the dance himself, but his parents thought he needed to interact with his peers more, something my own parents had been on at me about, and so he asked if I would like to go with him, just as friends. My immediate reaction was to refuse, because what did it matter if one guy was friendly to me, if every girl in the room would either ignore me, or be nasty to me. Another reason was that I had never been a party kind of girl, and that paired with everything that was going on at school, I decided it would be better to stay at home, curled up with a good book and some relaxing music. He didn’t want to take no for an answer, he kept on asking over and over, until eventually I said yes.
To be honest with you and I promise you I always try to be, it was nice talking to someone who wasn’t just pointing out my bad qualities, like all of the girls in my school. It had been so long since I’d had a nice conversation with someone my age.
I feel I should explain something else as well; my situation at home was at breaking point, I either had to make the first move to fix things with my mother, or everything would be lost forever, that’s truly how I felt at the time. So I went into the kitchen after accepting Jasper’s offer, my mom was sat at the table reading the newspaper, and I told her that Jasper had asked me to go to the dance with him, I told her that I had accepted and I asked her if she’d like to help me buy a dress, she hesitated for a moment and in that time, I honestly didn’t know which answer I wanted to hear from her, but finally she cleared her throat and said that she’d help. I found myself getting excited about the whole thing, it felt like things were getting better.
We went out an hour later to hit the shops, it felt so good to be doing something with her again, besides fighting, because although me and my mom had never been hugely close, we always enjoyed each other’s company, and I was finally starting to think we could move past everything with the grades, and get back to a good place.
In the first store we went in she handed me three dresses to try on, then sat outside the cubicle in the changing rooms, while I pulled the first one on. I came out in the size 6 dress and it was hanging loosely from my body, and for a little context I’d been a size 6 since I was around 14, but all the extra exercise I’d been doing had changed my shape and my size.
‘I think I need a smaller size.’ I said to my mom, and I remember that as I spoke I was looking at my reflection in one of many full length mirrors, but although my back was turned to her, I could see my mom’s reaction in the mirror, when I told her and she saw what I looked like in the dress, she looked so happy, so proud of me. That’s something that struck me so deeply in that moment, especially after what my brother had said a while back, and all the girls at school told me daily, I started to wonder if maybe they were all right about it, I did need to lose some weight, did everyone think I needed to be smaller?
The thought passed as quickly as it had arrived, and I was left feeling pleased that I’d made her proud, I liked the feeling because it had been so long since I’d felt it, and however mad I was at her for changing my grades, I was madder at myself for not getting better grades in the first place. So having something to make my mother proud was amazing, I enjoyed seeing the grin on her face when she brought me a size 4 and it fit me perfectly, it was like all of a sudden, standing in the changing rooms of a department store, I knew how to make her proud of me, all I had to do was keep myself slim, and that was easy enough wasn’t it? I could handle that couldn’t I? All I knew then was that my mom was smiling at me in a way I hadn’t seen for ages.
My mother had always been one to promote good body image, she herself went to the gym once a week, and tried to eat as healthily as she possibly could. I followed in her footsteps, but now I was willing to take it further, if it would make her proud of me, because somewhere in my jumbled mind, I started to believe that the smaller I was the more proud she would be. I could remain her little girl who never disappointed her and that feeling felt more incredible than I can possibly describe.
We carried on shopping for a long time, going into every store, until eventually we picked out a floor length black dress, with gold detailing on the bodice, which you probably won’t care about, but still I thought I would build the picture for you, so here is the little run down of my dress, feel free to skip it; it was fitted at the top and had black capped sleeves, it had a gold band which pulled in my waist, and then a black skirt which flowed out to the floor. That was my dress, I loved that dress, but there was something I loved more than that dress, and it was simple; my mom was so happy that day, so happy that we decided to make a whole day of it, she took me to lunch after we got the dress, then we bought some shoes to go with the dress, gold strappy sandals. After we were done shopping she took me to get my hair done, because she had been horrified when she saw what I had done to my hair, but I had stubbornly refused to have it fixed until that day. There wasn’t a great deal the hairdresser could do, but they neatened it up and made it look more intentional, which actually made a bigger difference th
an I thought it would. Then because my mom was in such a good mood, we went to get facials and manicures.
By the end of the day I was so much happier than I’d been in so long, things started to feel like they used to. I was smiling and laughing like nothing had ever happened. I should have realized that it wouldn’t last, but I was too content with my day, holding onto every piece of happiness that I was feeling, the thought that it was going to fizzle out the minute I got home, that wasn’t a thought I wanted to entertain, so I pushed it away so far that I couldn’t even see it anymore, it was like I expected this one shopping trip to fix everything, because I was happy and I wanted to stay happy.
When we got home I went straight to my room, not because of my usual reasons of avoiding contact with anyone, but because my dad wanted to see the dress I had bought, which he worded as;
‘Go and try your outfit on then, I want to see the damage.’ Meaning he wanted to see how big a dent we’d put in the credit card, but he said it teasingly, so it didn’t pull down my mood in any way. I tried on the dress and he said he loved it, he told me that I looked beautiful; my day was getting better by the minute. If he noticed the change in my weight, he didn’t say anything about it, but then I didn’t really expect him to notice, there wasn’t a huge difference after all. I changed out of the dress and we all sat down to dinner together, as a family, and we actually talked and laughed and had fun. By the time I went to bed I was feeling so happy.
Then I did something stupid, I did something so stupid that I can’t believe I did it, because I knew it would only lead to me feeling bad again, but that didn’t seem to cross my mind, so I opened my laptop and I checked my emails, and suddenly without warning my world crashed around me again, all the blocks I’d built up of strength and happiness that day, came tumbling down around me and turned to dust. I’d received several emails all with the same link in it; it took me a while to get around to clicking on the link, because I think we both know it was inevitable that I was going to click. It was a site that was linked in the emails, I didn’t know who the people were who sent it, and I didn’t recognize any of the email addresses. After I clicked on the link I was taken to a website dedicated to me, well to be more specific, it was dedicated to all the things people hated about me. On the front page was a picture of me out shopping with my mom, it had been taken after I’d had my hair done, and underneath the picture there was a message.
How I Got Here Page 7
