Uncle Garrett
Abby
Glen
Ms. Blanchard
Mr. Pollinni
Dad
And I put my name on the last one, without an address, and I slip it into the back of my notebook.
I feel a little worried as I take my eleven sealed envelopes downstairs to put in the mail. I mean, no one on my list, besides Abby and Ms. Blanchard, has any idea about what's going on with me. I've been tempted to tell Glen during our weekly phone calls, and I suppose I've even dropped some hints. But hers been so great about me being gone, and he seems so into me, that I just couldn't bear to risk everything. Until now. But, I tell myself, what choice do I have? I can't hide this thing forever. Either he'll be able to handle it or not. Time will tell.
But instead of obsessing and freaking, I do remember to ask God to take care of these things. Then I hand over my letters to Juanita, and as I walk away, I feel an amazing new sense of freedom, like I've just come clean with everyone and I no longer have anything to hide. In a way it's exhilarating. I have no idea how anyone will react. Especially Glen. But in some ways I don't even care. It's like I really am free!
It's only as I come to the end of my final week that I begin to fully realize my time here will be finished on Sunday. Then I start to get concerned. What happens next? And am I really ready to go back home and face my dad?
I confess these fears during my last group session on Friday. "I'm starting to freak," I tell my friends (some who are new, a few who came here about the same time that I did). "I'm afraid that I might fall apart. I might end up like I was before, or even worse."
They remind me that I'm stronger now, that I have skills to use, and that I've changed.
"You're so strong, Ruth," says a new girl named Katy. She's only fourteen and has only been cutting for a couple of months. "I mean, I really look up to you as kind of a role model here. You always have such good things to say during our small group. I know you're going to do great when you go back."
I wish I had Katy's kind of confidence in myself. While it's encouraging and I hope that she's right, I'm still not sure that Fin as strong as she thinks.
"This is one of those times when you really have to trust in your Higher Power," says Nicole. "You need to remember that you cannot do this on your own. You do need help. Just ask for it. God will show up, Ruth. Just trust him and see what he can do."
So I'm trying to do that. And every time I start to freak, I remind myself that it's time to pray-it's time to ask God for help. And by Sunday morning, I am amazingly relaxed.
After Bible study is finished, I talk to Nicole privately. First, I thank her for everything she's done for me, and then I promise to stay in touch.
"But what's next?" I ask. "I mean, I know that today's my last day. But when do I leave? And how do I get home?" The last time I asked her about this, she said to wait and see. "I guess I could go stand out on the road and hold out my thumb."
She laughs. "Yeah, we usually make our girls hitch a ride home when they're done here."
"But seriously, am I going home today?"
"That's what we told you, isn't it? Are you packed and ready?"
"Yeah." I frown now. "But the suspense is killing me. And, please, please, don't tell me my dad is picking me up."
She shakes her head. "I already promised you that would not happen. And the only reason I didn't tell you anything more was because I wasn't sure myself."
"You're not sure?"
"Well, I am now. My sister is coming to get you. And she has some things to talk to you about. She should be here just after lunch. Can you wait that long?"
I smile. "No problem."
I use my last couple of hours to say good-bye to the girls and to take one last walk around the grounds. And during this walk I, once again, ask for God's help. I feel like such a beginner right now. Like I have so much to learn-about God, about myself, and others. But I feel like this time I'm going to do things right. And this time will be different from the others, because God is going to help me get through this.
I sit down on a sunny bench, my favorite thinking spot, and look down at my arms. The scars have faded a lot. Especially after I started using Juanita's "secret formula," which is a lotion she concocts of aloe vera and coconut oil. And this mixture seems to help as I get a little tan on my arms, making the scars fade instead of standing out. Even so, I have a feeling that some of the scars will be with me always. Maybe they'll be a good reminder. A reminder of two things: (1) 1 don't need to hurt myself anymore, and (2) by his stripes (not mine) I am healed.
twenty-three
Ms. BLANCHARD PICKS ME UP AT ONE THIRTY, AND AFTER DOZENS OF HUGS AND several sweet gifts, including a patchwork scarf knitted by Jessica (she eventually put her squares together to make lots of scarves for all her Promise House friends), we are on our way.
"You look wonderful," Ms. Blanchard tells me as she heads for the highway.
"Thanks. I feel great too." Then I thank her for all she did to help get me into Promise House.
"I'm so glad I could help," she says. "My heart just went out to you the first time I saw you sitting outside my office. Of course, I'd read a bit of your file, enough to know your family was having some problems, and that you were a good student. Anyway, I think God just tugged on my heart and I couldn't let you slip through some crack before school got out."
I take a deep breath now, then slowly exhale. "Nicole said you have some things to tell me. But mostly I want to know where you are taking me. Do I have to go back to my dad now?"
"I won't lie to you, Ruth. It's been tricky. As you know, your mom's a little better, but she's still got a long way to go. And it's pretty crowded where they're living, but we did get Children's Protective Services to agree to give Donna temporary custody of Caleb. It'll be reviewed again before school starts."
"Well, that's good. I mean, that it's okay for him to be there for now',
"Yes. But I had some problems convincing Protective Services that it wasn't in your best interest to be returned to your previous home. Without anything on file against your dad-no police reports or prior convictions-well, it just wasn't going too well."
"Oh." I feel my heart sinking now, a giant lump growing in my throat. I silently pray.
"But then your letter from Promise House came." She turns and smiles at me now. "And that changed some things."
"Really?"
"Well, your Grandma Wallace really stepped up to the plate. She arranged a family meeting with your dad and his brother, and they all sat down and had a big talk. And, somehow, it was decided that you should come live with your grandparents. At least for the summer. Will that work for you?"
I'm nodding now. "Yeah. That would be great."
"And that gives everyone time to figure things out. According to your other grandma, your mom's mom, they would like to work something out to get you and Caleb and your mom back together. Your mom's goal is to get well enough to go back to work and possibly support you kids."
"Really?"
"Yes. But its still a way out. In the meantime, it looks like you'll be in good hands at your grandparents' home."
I feel a small wave of relief washing over me now. I know everything's not completely settled, and I still have some major obstacles to face, including my dad. But I think I can handle it. With God, I can handle it.
As we get closer to town, I start feeling nervous again. I'm wondering what this is going to be like. I mean, having people know what I did, that I was a cutter. Will they look down on me? Will they pity me? What will it be like?
I forced myself to wear a sleeveless shirt today. Partly because it's like ninety degrees, and partly because I knew it would force me not to hide my scars. Now I'm not so sure that was the most brilliant idea. I look down at my arms, at my stripes . . . and then I remind myself that by his stripes I am healed.
As we turn down the street, I notice several cars parked at my grandparents' and suddenly get worri
ed. What if something's wrong? What if they changed their minds? What if my dad's there? But I don't see his pickup. As we get closer, I see that some of the cars are familiar, and I see that some people are standing out in the front yard. And I see a banner kind of sign that says "Welcome Home, Ruth!"
Mom and Caleb are there. I hug them first. Then I see Abby and Glen and even Finney and a few other friends from school. And they hug me too. And while I notice some of my friends glancing down at my arms, uncomfortable at first, they quickly return to their same old selves. Then I hug my grandparents and thank them for letting me stay here, at least for now. I don't ask anyone about my dad. I'm not ready for that yet.
After I've had a chance to reacquaint myself with everyone, Glen takes me off to a quiet corner of my grandma's backyard. "You could've told me, Ruth," he says with a slightly hurt tone. "I would've understood."
I study his face and his sincerity slightly stuns me. "Really?"
He nods. "I kind of thought there was something going on with you, I mean, besides your dad. But I just wasn't sure what . . . "
"I'm sorry," I tell him. "It's just that I was really ashamed of ... well, the whole cutting thing." I held out my arms as part of my confession. "I was afraid you'd think I was crazy"
He smiles then pulls me into a tight hug. "Hey, we're all a little crazy."
By the end of the day, I feel tired but good. I imagine it's the way you'd feel after climbing a mountain. Even better than that, I feel peaceful. There's a new calmness inside me that still takes me by surprise. Oh, I'm not stupid. I know that its something that needs to be maintained. I fully realize that this peace, this calm, this serenity is a result of me staying connected to God. And just as my commitment not to cut will remain a daily thing, so will my commitment to him. One day at a time. I think I can handle that.
reader's guide
1. How did you feel when you read the first scene where Ruth cut herself? Were you repulsed, confused, intrigued? Explain your feelings.
2. Ruth began cutting shortly after her mom's breakdown. How might she have handled things differently?
3. Abby was the first one to discover Ruth's "dirty little secret." How do you think it made Abby feel?
4. How do you think Abby could've been more helpful to Ruth? What would you do if you had a friend who was a cutter?
5. Have you ever done, or considered doing, any form of self- hann? Explain.
6. Nicole explains that cutting is an addictive behavior. Do you have any addictive behaviors? Describe them.
7. Remember how Ruth journaled about bottling her pain? How do you deal with emotional pain in your own life?
8. If you met Ruth while she was still actively cutting, what would you have said to her?
9. Do you think Ruth will ever be able to forgive her dad? Why or why not?
10. What does "by his stripes you are healed" mean to you personally?
TrueCo ors Book 8
Bitter Rose
Coming in January 2006
How was she supposed to hold her life together when her family was breaking apart?
One
LIFE AS I KNEW IT ENDED TODAY. SERIOUSLY, IT'S OVER. Now YOU MAY THINK I'm just being a drama queen, and it wouldn't be the first time I've been accused of blowing something way out of proportion. But, trust me, this is the real deal. It's over.
"What's wrong?" asks my best friend, Claire, when she finally returns my call like two hours later.
"Everything," I tell her. "My life is over."
"What are you talking about, Maggie?"
"It's my parents."
"Are they fighting again?" Her voice sounds bored now, and slightly disconnected too, like I can just imagine her filing her nails, or maybe she's watching her favorite Home Shopping Network show, or reading her e-mail, or playing a stupid computer game.
"Claire, this is serious."
"Oh, Maggie, your parents are constantly fighting. It'll blow over in-"
"No, it's not a fight this time. It's over! They are splitting up!"
"Splitting up?" She sounds a little shocked.
Okay, maybe I've got her attention now. "Yes! My mom just told me. Dad has left."
"No way!"
"Way"
"When did this happen?"
"Last night, apparently. I mean, there I was, going to youth group and spending the night at your house, just so they could have some one-on-one time, as my mom put it, and I come home today to discover that it's over. Dad's gone."
"What happened?"
"I'm not really sure. All Mom would tell me is that he's left and he's not coming back-" I start choking up now. I cannot believe my dad stepped out of my life just like that. I mean, he didn't even have the courtesy to warn me.
"Oh, Maggie, that's too bad. You were one of the few kids I know who still had her original parents. They actually gave me hope that love might possibly last forever."
"Apparently not."
"So where did your dad go anyway?"
"He's crashing with a friend for now. But Mom said he's going to get a place of his own soon."
"Did she say why? Like what actually brought it to this? Besides the fighting I mean?"
"No, she wouldn't say hardly anything about it. Then we just got into this huge old fight. I mean, it's clearly all her fault, Claire. She's driven him away with her constant nagging and complaining. Who could stand to live with that woman? I know I can't! I walked out on her too."
"So where are you right now?"
"I'm sitting in my car."
"Where?"
"Outside of the mall. I know it's lame, but I didn't know where else to go."
"Well, come over here. Nobody's home but me anyway."
"Thanks, Claire." We say good-bye and I turn off my cell phone, worried that Mom might try to call again. She tried twice while I was waiting for Claire. Fortunately, I have my caller ID and I never picked up. But she did leave a message-a really pathetic one if you ask me.
"Hi, Magdela," she says in this depressed sounding voice. "I'm so sorry we fought. We really need to talk about this. Please, give me a call. I'm worried about you."
Well, she should be worried. It's because of her that my life is getting blown totally apart right now. And it's the beginning of my senior year, too-my last year at home, and the year when you really want the love and support of both your parents. My older brother and sister both got that much, but now they're off living their own lives and probably totally oblivious to the fact that our family is disintegrating-like, presto-chango, poof! it is gone.
And here's what really gets me-my parents, the respectable Roberto and Rosa Fernandez, are these born-again Catholic Christians, and they're all involved in their church and Bible study groups, and now this? I just don't get it. And they've always told us kids that marriage was a "forever commitment," that wedding vows were meant to be kept until "death do you part." So what's the deal here? Are they just total hypocrites or what? It's even making me question my own faith. I mean, if this is where it gets you-sheesh, why bother?
Finally, I'm at Claire's house. She meets me at the door with a big hug. "I'm so sorry, Maggie. I mean, speaking from experience, I know you'll survive, you'll get through this. But I know that it totally sucks too."
"You got that right."
As I follow her to the kitchen, I remind myself that Claire's parents got divorced when she was only ten. At the time, I was completely shocked and I felt so sorry for her and her mom. But time passed, and Jeannie eventually remarried a really nice guy, and I guess I just sort of forget about Claire's real dad. I think she sort of forgot him too, since he pretty much vanished out of her life. We never even talk about him anymore. But thinking of this doesn't make me feel a bit better. The truth is, I really love my dad. I mean he's not perfect, but he's pretty cool for a parent. And I don't want him to just disappear.
"You know what," I tell Claire as we dig our spoons into a halffull carton of cookie-dough ice cream. "I think I'll
live with my dad."
Her eyebrows lift slightly. "Have you talked to him about this?"
"Of course not. I haven't even seen him since he left. But I'm sure he'll agree with me. I mean we've always gotten along a whole lot better than Morn and me. And lately, well, Mom's been pretty witchy to both of us. She's like this devil woman, always on everyone's case, always mad about something. She probably told him to leave. I just don't get it. Why did she do it? Why is she so horrible?" And now I burst into tears all over again. I will never forgive her for this!
about the author
MLLODY C,ARISON has written dozens of books for all age groups, but she particularly enjoys writing for teens. Perhaps this is because her own teen years remain so vivid in her memory. After claiming to be an atheist at the ripe old age of twelve, she later surrendered her heart to Jesus and has been following him ever since. Her hope and prayer for all her readers is that each one would be touched by God in a special way through her stories. For more information, please visit Melody's website at www.melodycarlson.com.
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