This whole thing is driving me crazy. I feel like going to talk to her mother would at least be worth a shot, but my dad seems pretty sure that that will just make it worse. At this point, Jessica doesn’t really know how close we are, and giving her that kind of information is just giving her more control over the situation. And it’s very clear that doing so isn’t a good idea. The feeling of helplessness is overwhelming.
I need to do something to keep my mind busy. I go for a run, clean my truck, clean up my room, anything to keep my mind off of her, but nothing works. I wonder what her mother is thinking, if she even cares that Tenley almost died. Or if she is just pissed that the word almost exists in that sentence. I wonder about what is going to happen when she gets out of the hospital. She wouldn’t try to do this again, would she?
No, she will not. My plan remains the same. I will take her away, and I will give her the happiness she deserves. She will never wish herself dead again, not if I have anything to say about it.
Still not able to focus on anything without the picture of her lying there on her floor popping into my mind, I decide to write her a letter. I don’t know if I will give it to her, but I have some things I need to get off my chest.
Tenley,
I miss you. I miss your smile, your sad eyes, your smell, everything about you. I am so pissed at myself for not doing a better job of showing you that you are loved. I had a plan to save you. I still have this plan, but I can’t tell you what it is right now, because I don’t know who will read this. But the heart of the plan is this. I will make you happy. I will use every breath, every moment, every word that comes out of my mouth to show you that I love you. I will do this until you realize that I am telling you the truth and that I cannot breathe if you cannot breathe. My life’s goal is to make you happy. Damnit, T, I love you; why can’t you just let me love you? I hate that you did this. I hate that you felt like this was the only way. I hate that when I close my eyes, all I can see is your lying on that floor. I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you when I had only just found you. You told me that you love me, and you told me that you are mine. You are; you are mine. Your life is not yours to take anymore. Your life and mine are connected, and if you kill yourself, you are killing me too. Is that what you want? Some kind of modern-day Romeo and Juliet? That’s not good enough for me. We both deserve better than that. You and I, for different reasons, have both dealt with enough heartache and sadness for one lifetime. It’s time now for us to be happy, and if you will still have me, I would like to share that with you. I read the letter you left for me. It pissed me off. When my mom killed herself, I couldn’t understand how she could do it out of some messed up version of her love for us. For you to say that you don’t want to burden me? That is not how love works. You are not a burden to me, and your feelings, whether good or bad, are not a burden either. When you love someone, you want to be there for that person, no matter what the person is feeling. At least that’s how I love. If you are crying, I want to be there to kiss all of your tears away. When you are laughing, I want to be there just as badly, to hear that sound. When you are angry, I want to be angry with you. I just want to love you, and I want you to feel loved by me. Nothing you could ever do would change the way I feel about you. Nothing, not even this. Jesus, that moment when I thought you were gone was so long. I don’t know how long it took for the ambulance to get there once my dad had called, but it seemed like an eternity. An eternity without you, without my mom. And now, even though you are alive, I have no idea what that means because they won’t let me see you or talk to you. Are you okay? Are you sad? Are you mad that you didn’t successfully kill yourself? Are you wondering where I am? Do you even care? Please don’t try this again. Please just let me love you. Let me at least try to bring you joy and make your life worth living. Please, my life depends on yours.
I love you, with all of my heart and soul.
Chase
Clearly I can’t give her this. But it does make me feel a little better just having it on paper. Sitting at my desk, I still find myself glancing over at her house, halfway thinking that she will be sitting in the window like she so often does. But she isn’t there. Although she is alive, not being able to see her or hear her voice feels like she is dead. I hear a quiet knock on the door, and my dad comes in.
“How are you holding up?” he asks cautiously.
“I don’t really know,” I respond. “I just want to see her, you know? Even if it’s only for a second, just so my mind can picture something other than her lying almost dead on the floor. It’s all I can think about.”
“I know, bud; I know. Me, too,” he says sadly. “It brings back everything with your mom all over again.”
He sits down on the edge of the bed and covers his face with his hands. We both sit in silence; just being together in same room is oddly comforting to me. It makes me happy to know that he cares about Tenley just as much as I do. Most dads would think that this relationship was just some kind of puppy love or something after only a few days, but he gets it.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s going to happen when she gets out?”
“I don’t really know. I am hoping that with everything you have told me, that the doctors she is working with see that she would be better off living with her grandparents and that maybe after this, someone will finally see what has been happening and be able to do something to help.”
“But you don’t think that’s going to happen do you?”
“No. But I don’t know. Making this attempt has to make someone see that something is very wrong.”
“Do you think I will be able to see her once they move her from the emergency room?”
“I told you already: Jessica said no visitors other than her. She seems to think that Tenley did this for attention, and she doesn’t want to give her the attention that she wants. I don’t believe that’s why she did it, though, and I worry about what is going on in her head right now.”
Angry now, I stand up and yell, “Even if she did do it for attention, isn’t that a pretty big cry for help? If she wants attention bad enough to try to kill herself, don’t you think it would be best to give it to her?”
“I don’t know, bud; I don’t know. If she were my daughter, I would surely look at it that way. But who knows, maybe we really don’t know the whole story.”
“We do know the whole story. Her mother is a psycho bitch.”
“Even if I agreed with that statement, it doesn’t change the fact that there is nothing we can do right now. We just have to wait until she gets out of the hospital, or at least until we can talk to her, and go from there. Now, try to get some sleep. I will see you in the morning.” He pats me on the shoulder and leaves my room, closing the door behind him.
I was hoping that writing that letter would help me to finally be able to get some sleep, but talking about Jessica has me angry all over again. It’s probably not even worth trying. As I get up and walk over to my bed, I glance out of the window again out of habit, and I see the front door open. Jessica and Rick walk out all dressed up like they are going somewhere, and they are both laughing. I drop the blinds to prevent myself from throwing something out of the window at them and lie down to try once more to get some sleep. Sleep doesn’t come, though, just more thoughts of Tenley. I pick up my phone and pull up her contact info. I see her face smiling at me from the picture I took the night of homecoming. I tap her number and type in a text that simply says, “I love you” and put my phone back down. I want so badly for it to ding, indicating she has texted me back, but I know that won’t happen. I don’t even know where her phone is, actually. I assume it is still hidden in her room somewhere, but I guess it doesn’t really matter now. I pick up my phone again and change my wallpaper to her smiling face and sit there and just look at it, trying to burn the image into my brain right over the top of the one of her lying almost dead on the floor. This is what finally allows me to fall asleep.
> CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Tenley
The day with the doctors starts off slowly at first. Dr. Mihalus is the first one to come in, and we basically just sit and talk for a while.
“Let’s just start with some easy questions, okay? I just want to get to know you a little before we dive in to all the tough stuff. So do you play any sports or anything?” he asks kindly.
“No, I wanted to run track, but my mother said that I need to spend all of my time focused on homework and didn’t think I needed anything to distract me from that.”
“Do you struggle with homework?”
“No, not really. I never know if I am going to be able to get any of it done at home, though, so I do as much as I can at school. Sometimes I guess it may seem rushed. Overall, I get decent grades.”
“Do you have a favorite subject?”
It’s odd that he didn’t even acknowledge the comment about having to do the work at school; maybe this won’t go my way after all.
“Um, probably English.”
“Why is that?”
“I enjoy reading. Something about being able to bury yourself in someone else’s life, someone else’s thoughts; it’s a good way to escape reality for a little while.”
“What about drinking? Don’t you use that to escape reality as well?”
“This was the first time I had ever drunk.”
“Remember, you don’t have to lie. I am here to help you, but in order for me to do that, I need you to be honest with me. So how often do you drink?”
What the hell is the deal with this guy all of the sudden?
“Really, that was the first time,” I say, somewhat irritated now.
“You had a blood alcohol level of .16. That is twice the legal limit. There is no way you could have drunk that much your first time drinking.”
“Well, there is a way, because that really was the first time. I realize that you have spoken to my mother and that she has more than likely told you that I am a compulsive liar, but that is not the case. I am actually a very good person, and I try my best to be as invisible as possible so as not to get in trouble. My entire life has been spent tiptoeing around my mother and walking on eggshells trying not to piss her off, when in my head I know that no matter what I do, it will piss her off. So when I tell you I have never drunk before, I am telling you the truth. I would never have been able to get away with something like that, even if I had wanted to. The only reason I did it this time was because I wanted to do at least one grown up thing before I killed myself. That’s it. That’s the only reason. I know that you probably don’t believe that, but it’s true. You and the rest of the doctors here are my last chance to prove that she has been emotionally abusive to me my whole life. And despite what my mother thinks, I am smart enough to know that I can’t do that if I lie to you.”
“I apologize for accusing you Tenley. I am impressed with the way you handle yourself, though. A lot of people your age would have yelled at me at that point, but you kept your cool. I hope you understand that I just needed to be sure that you were not lying.”
“No, I get it.”
“Now that we have that out of the way, can you tell me about the comment you made before about having to do your homework at school? What happens if you bring it home?”
“Sometimes nothing. Sometimes I would be able to do it with no problems, but most of the time she either takes it away from me so that I can’t do it, or she rips up what I have and makes me start over, claiming that it wasn’t neat enough or wasn’t good enough to hand in.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Honestly? I think probably because she doesn’t want me to get good grades.”
“That is not a typical attitude for a mother to have about her child. Why do you think your mother feels that way?”
“She was just a little older than I am now when she had me. She has made plenty of comments throughout the last few years that her life would have been much different if I hadn’t come along and ruined her life.”
“But it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right? She made her choices, and she is the one who changed the path of her own life.”
“She told me once that she wished she had had an abortion.”
“Well, try to look at it this way. If you got pregnant right now, how would you feel about being a mother?”
“I don’t think I can answer that fairly because I don’t ever want to be a mother. I just don’t want to risk doing what she did to me to another person.”
“Why do you think you would?”
“Because I don’t know how a real mother acts or feels or anything. All I know is how to treat a child like a burden or a curse.”
“How should a child be treated?”
“Like a gift. A mother should love her child with everything she has and be willing to make any kind of sacrifice necessary to make that child happy. A child should feel loved and cherished.”
“So you do know how to treat a child?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You haven’t mentioned your dad at all. Where is he?”
“According to my mother, he left as soon as I was born. Neither of them wanted me, but they handled it differently.”
“How do you know he didn’t want you?”
“Would you leave if you had a child that you wanted?”
“Maybe, depends on the circumstances.”
“Well, I wouldn’t, no matter what the circumstances.”
“You sound pretty angry with him. Why do you think that is?”
“Look at my life. He played just as big a role in her getting pregnant in high school as she did, yet he just walked away. And I’m pretty sure she didn’t just wake up a bitch one day; she probably always has been. So not only did he walk away from her and me, but he left me to fend for myself with her, knowing that she was going to make my life hell.”
“You don’t really know that, though, do you?”
“No, I guess I don’t, but I don’t see any reason why it would be okay.”
“What if your mom made his life hell, too? What if he didn’t walk away at all? What if she controls him the same way she controls you?”
“How could that be? He is an adult; adults can’t be controlled the way she controls me.”
“You would be surprised at some of the stories I have heard. Why don’t we take a break for a little bit for lunch? My colleague, Dr. Kerins, will be in after lunch to talk with you some more. Do you think you are up for that?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I enjoyed talking with you this morning, Tenley. I look forward to spending some more time getting to know you. Oh, I almost forgot: I am going to set up a session for tomorrow afternoon with me, you, and your mother. Are you comfortable with that?”
“What for?”
“I would like to have you both in a room with me as a mediator if it is needed in order to talk about why you felt that suicide was necessary and also to discuss your treatment.”
“Sure. She won’t act the same way with you in the room, though. She is a whole different person when people are around.”
“You would be surprised at how easily we can see through things like that, if that truly is the case. But you would be okay with giving it a try?”
“Yeah, I mean, I don’t hate her; I just, I just don’t understand her.”
“I could see that. I will set that up for tomorrow afternoon then.”
He gives me his kind smile again and leaves the room.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Tenley
The next few days are spent the same way. Dr. Mihalus and Dr. Kerins both seem like they are truly trying to figure out how to help me. They could both see that I am in a messed up situation as soon as they tried to get my mother involved in my treatment.
Several times they tried to set up meetings with her and me, but she kept saying that she didn’t want to give me the attention I was so obviously trying to get so desperately.
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br /> They both explained to her that without her participation in my treatment, they were going to have to draw their own conclusions based solely upon what I was telling them, and she didn’t seem to care. This, of course, surprised them, but not me. She explained to them that she was working with her sister to make arrangements for me to go to stay with her.
A sister that she hasn’t talked to in as long as I can remember, who I haven’t seen for years. A sister who lives fifty miles away in some little shitberg town in the middle of Wisconsin somewhere. All I really know about her is that she and her family spend a lot of time at church, and that my mother really has no use for her.
I express these thoughts to my doctors, and they explain to me that since she is my legal guardian that even if they determine she is not the best person for me to live with, who I live with is ultimately still her decision.
Obviously, I would prefer to live with my grandparents and not have to switch schools or leave Chase. Now that I have finally realized that I want to at least try to be happy with him, I don’t want to move an hour away to live with someone I barely know.
Between all of that drama and the group sessions and art therapy, I am feeling much better about things for the most part.
They finally moved me up to the pediatric psych ward yesterday, and I have met some other kids my age who share similar problems.
This is the hardest part of my stay here, however. Today is visiting day, and everyone has someone who comes to see them, except me. Usually I try to stay in my room because I am still working through the pain of what my mother has done and because it still really bothers me to see other mothers with their daughters. It bothers me on an entirely different level that she doesn’t allow anyone else to come and visit. I would love to see my grandparents or anyone, really. But I would especially love to see Chase.
Clouds That Were (Weathered Hearts) Page 13
