Pierced Love

by t. h. snyder

  Oh shit. What the hell could she possibly want to talk about that would make me think she’s prying?

  I stand quietly in the hallway starring at her. It’s as if I’m trying to silently beg her not to ask me something about me, about school or about my classmates.

  With us being so far apart in age, I never thought I’d have to worry about her getting involved with my concerns.

  “I know about last night,” she whispers.

  She raises her head to look at me.

  I can feel my heart skip a beat and the blood begin to drain from my face.

  “Zar, did you hear me,” she asks moving closer.

  I shake my head, no.

  I don’t want to hear what she just said, no more like I’m afraid for her to say more about what she just said.

  What could she possibly mean she knows about last night?

  “Zar come on, talk to me. What’s going on and why would those kids pick a fight with Loudon at the homecoming football game?”

  “Oh that. It was nothing. Just some asshole kids talking shit, don’t worry about it,” I reply.

  “Seriously, I can’t believe mom and dad didn’t hear about it the way all the kids were gossiping.”

  I attempt to let out a laugh.

  “Well you know how rumors can spread Zoe. Like I said, it was nothing, and Loudon is obviously fine so just let it go.”

  I start to walk away and I can hear her mumble something behind me.

  “Seriously Zoe, I mean it. Let.It.Go.”

  “Fine,” she snaps and rushes past me down the stairs.

  I walk down the stairs with a completely different attitude than I did a few minutes ago.

  Crazy how one person’s outlook can go from happy to panic mode in no time at all.

  I huff to myself, guess that’s the story of my life.

  At least this crisis was averted; hopefully Zoe will keep her comments to herself throughout dinner. The last thing I need is for my parents to start questioning me about what happened between Loudon and Dillan.

  It’s not like I would be lying if I told them what I told Zoe, it’s just not completely telling the truth.

  Even so, omitting the truth is just as bad.

  “Argh!” I say out loud.

  I look toward the kitchen and mom pops her head in the hallway.

  “You okay Zar?” She asks.

  “Yeah, I’m coming…just stubbed my toe,” I reply.

  Damn it! Now I’m lying about my toe.

  I can’t win….I need this day to be over.

  That way I can start over fresh tomorrow.

  Shit, that won’t work either.

  Tomorrow is Monday, the start of my week in the hell zone.

  I shake my head at the ridiculous conversation that is running through my head.

  I manage to make it into the dining room without really stubbing my toe or any other body parts. I do however think that I may be going completely nuts talking to myself.

  God, if I don’t get myself squared away soon I’ll wind up in the psych ward in no time.

  Then they’ll really have something to talk about at school tomorrow.

  Great, where’s Loudon when I need a calming moment to reassure myself that I really am not a wacko. He really has had quite an impression on me and knows how to keep my nerves and panic at bay.

  I’m starting to need him even when he’s not here with me.

  He is the light that pulls me through my darkness.

  BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

  The blaring beeping sound of my alarm clock wakes me up.

  I open my sleepy eyes and turn my head to see that it’s six-thirty in the morning.

  Rolling onto my side, I slam my hand on my nightstand and hit my alarm.

  Ahh, finally the awful noise has stopped.

  I kick my legs out from under my covers, throw them over to the side and sit up in bed.

  Rubbing my eyes, I can see that the sun has come up and it’s now shining in on this side of the house.

  Why is it that the morning always comes so fast? I feel like I just laid my head down on my pillow.

  I suppose talking with Loudon on the phone until after midnight could be a valid reason for why I’m so tired today.

  After about ten minutes of chatting about nothing, I lost track of why he even called. We just seem to start talking about nonsense and before I knew it we’d been on the phone for more than two hours.

  He makes it so easy to talk to him.

  Whether it’s about him, me or our favorite food, it’s just so comfortable sharing things with him.

  I haven’t had a friend like this in so long that I forgot what it was like to just talk, laugh and enjoy learning things about another person.

  He eventually remembered why he called and we discussed upcoming study sessions to help him with Physics and Calculus.

  Since he needs serious help with school, we decided that we’d start meeting twice a week for the next few weeks. At least we can see if my helping with his studies will have a positive effect on his grades before spending more time on tutoring than necessary.

  Right now, he’s been awarded a full athletic scholarship and a starting position as center on the Iowa State basketball team next fall.

  Even though it’s the beginning of the school year, he still needs to graduate with a set GPA of a 2.5 or he’ll lose the scholarship and his place on the team.

  Talking with him last night, I got to learn so much more about him that I didn’t know.

  Not only does he play basketball, but he’s also the captain of the hockey team and runs the 800 meter on the track team.

  As an all around sports nut, he doesn’t have much time to do anything else, which makes him not doing well in a few subjects make sense. Thankfully, those that he has the most trouble with are the ones that are my personal favorites.

  To help each other out with driving back in forth we figured that I could drive to Ames on Tuesday after school and he would come to Des Moines Thursday afternoons.

  At least for now that will fit into his busy practice schedule, but like he said, things could change.

  Honestly, I don’t have a social life or any other kind of life so my calendar is wide open.

  Just the mere thought of him brings a smile to my face and butterflies start to flutter in my stomach.

  I take a look at my alarm clock and quickly do a double take.

  Shit!

  I’ve been daydreaming about Loudon for thirty minutes. There’s no way I’ll have time to shower and get out the door in time.

  I quickly get out of bed and rush into the bathroom.

  Brushing my teeth and washing my face as fast as possible I finish getting ready and rush to my walk in closet.

  I scan the hangers full of clothing. Just about everything that I own is black, dark grey, navy blue or dark purple.

  Geez talk about a Goth chic wardrobe.

  I mean I knew I had a lot of dark colored clothes, but I guess I never really paid this much attention to the lack of color in the clothes I owned.

  These colors have helped trap me into the darkness that I created to keep my emotions safe.

  I look down at my finger nails and toe nails that are coated in the darkest purple nail polish.

  In so many ways I want to be free of this darkness, but I’m afraid to step into the light and let myself be me again.

  If only I felt safe in the light again, in the warmth of the sun.

  It would mean so much to me to feel like this again?

  I know that I feel safe, secure and a part of something when I’m with Loudon.

  What will happen if I’d change when he isn’t around?

  Would they still hurt and criticize me?

  Is it worth risking it all to change because of him?

  I let out a heavy sigh and grab for a pair of skinny jeans, a checkered, button down top, a tank and my brown UGG boots.

  “Here goes nothing,” I say to myself.
r />   I quickly pull on my outfit for the day and grab my messenger tote

  Walking out into the hallway I see that Zoe’s door is still shut.

  Hmm, that’s odd. She always leaves her door open when she’s done getting ready for school.

  I wonder if she’s still sleeping. Mom and dad mentioned having to get in to the hospital early this week so they wouldn’t be here when we leave for school in the mornings. Maybe she overslept. I suppose I better check to make sure she’s up.

  As I walk by her bedroom I knock on the door.

  I stop in front of her room and put my ear close to the door, but don’t hear anything.

  I knock again.

  “I’m heading down to grab breakfast and then I’m leaving. Are you coming with me today?”

  Huh, still no answer.

  I decide to open the door and see what she’s up to.

  When I enter her room, the curtains are drawn shut and barely any light is filtering in through the blinds.

  My eyes sweep the room to see where -she is.

  I look to the left corner and see that she’s still tucked up in her bed.

  “What the hell Zoe? Are you sick?” I ask, walking over to her.

  I see that she’s starting to move, but doesn’t utter a sound.

  I stand next to her bed and pull down the fluffy pink comforter.

  She tries to fight me by grabbing for the thick cover.

  “Zoe, what’s going on? You okay?” I ask, trying to wrestle the blanket from her tight grip, “didn’t mom make sure you were up before she left this morning? If you don’t get a move on it now you’ll make us both late for school.”

  A few moments of silence pass and finally she says something.

  “No Zar, I’m not okay and I won’t be going back to school today, tomorrow or any other day ever again, thanks to you. Now get out of my room!” She screams.

  I step back from her bed and gasp as my hand flies to my mouth.

  Zoe and I have had our disagreements growing up, but she has never screamed at me like she did just now.

  I don’t know if I should press the issue or leave her alone.

  All I know is that she needs to talk to someone. As much as it kills me that I’m the only other one home this morning, I know I can’t just leave her like this. I have to find out what happened and get her out of this room and to school.

  Whatever is bothering her, can’t keep her from school.

  I won’t let her fall into the same world that I’ve fallen victim to over the years.

  “Zoe, I have no clue what happened. Talk to me,” I say, sitting on the edge of her bed.

  She throws the comforter away from her face and sits up in her bed. Pushing herself back against the headboard, she looks at me with pure disgust on her face.

  “You know what, Zar!” She shouts and then pauses.

  She throws her head in her hands and begins to sob.

  I’m worried for her. I don’t know what the hell could have her so upset. Of all people, I’m the last person she should confide in when something is bothering her.

  Ugh, of all days why does mom have to be at work?

  She pulls her hands away from her face and wipes the tears.

  “It’s hard enough being the last Evans to go through school. Do you realize how many teachers compare me to you and Zeke? But that’s not even the worst of it, Zar. Do you know how hard it is for me to follow in the footsteps of the freak?”

  She stares me in the eyes and the breath is ripped from my lungs.

  My chest starts to heave and my body freezes in place.

  I’m in shock at the words that just left my sister’s mouth.

  What did she just say? Did she just call me what they’ve called me since I was in junior high.

  Oh my god, she did. She called me the freak.

  How is this possible?

  I tried so hard to hide in the darkness.

  I never wanted the light to mix into the dark.

  Now it’s happening; both of my worlds are colliding and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

  It’s too late.

  No….

  No…

  No...

  This can’t be happening.

  They were never going to find out.

  No one was ever supposed to know.

  Why me...I never chose this to happen...make it stop.

  I can’t think.

  I can’t move.

  I can’t breathe.

  I’m staring a hole through her while she continues her rant.

  “Yeah, how long did you think your secret was going to stay a secret, Zar? When I asked you about the fight the other day at the game, I was hoping you’d be honest and tell me what was really going on, but no, you didn’t. I had to hear it from my friends, the people I go to school with everyday. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? Because of you, everyone thinks I’m like you.”

  I’m still stunned by the words coming out of her mouth.

  Zoe starts to cry and I have no idea what to do.

  The panic is rising through my chest and into my throat. I feel like my airway is closing up and someone is punching me in the chest. I clench my hands and feel the blood pounding in my skull.

  I can’t breathe.

  The harder I attempt to take in a deep breath the more the panic begins to build.

  This is more than any other panic attack I’ve ever had, except for that night.

  I’m starting to get light headed and my hands are going numb.

  I feel my body begin to sway backwards.

  I’m scared.

  I don’t want to be here right now.

  It’s all coming back to me…this has happened before.

  My body feels as though it’s floating.

  I hear a door slam and a cool breeze whip across my face. I can sense the warmth of the sunshine beating down on my face.

  As good as this sensation feels right now, something just doesn’t seem to be right.

  I try to move my arms, but I can’t move them.

  I try to pick up my legs, but I can’t pick them up.

  They are stuck; no, more like they are glued down to something and I don’t have the energy to pick them up.

  My eyes are so heavy that I can barely open them.

  I hear voices around me, but there is so much going on around me that I can’t make out what everyone is saying.

  I’m so confused.

  What’s going on?

  What’s happening around me?

  Where am I?

  I hear a beeping sound and all of a sudden I feel a piercing pain in my left arm and some type of device being strapped across my face.

  Ouch. that hurts, but I can’t seem to scream out or move my arm.

  I try to take in a deep breath and I feel some sort of air being pushed through my nose.

  It’s cool and smells like new plastic.

  I start to relax and in a matter of seconds my body and mind fall back into a deep rest.

  BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

  Oh shit, not again. Is it time to wake up for school again already?

  I try clear my mind and an aching pain shoots through my head, down my neck and into my back.

  Ugh, what the hell? Why am I in so much pain?

  I open my eyes and try to focus on the unfamiliar objects that are surrounding me.

  The room I’m in is dark.

  I can see that there is a curtain hanging from the ceiling in front of me.

  As I look on the either side of me, I can see a few machines surrounding the left and the right of a bed.

  I look down at the bed toward my feet.

  A white blanket has me wrapped mummy style and clear hoses are running from my arms into a tall machine next to me.

  I try to lift my legs, but I still don’t have enough energy to pick them up on my own.

  I can’t move again.

  Lifting my head to get a better look, I try to move my arms back to bett
er brace myself into a sitting position, but they won’t budge either.

  I’m lifeless lying on this bed and there’s no way for me to move.

  I’m confused.

  I don’t know where I am.

  I have no clue what’s going on.

  The last thing I can remember is trying to talk to Zoe this morning and then I…

  Oh.My.God.

  No, please tell me this is an awful dream and I’m still sleeping.

  This can’t be happening.

  I can feel my heart start to race.

  The noise of the machines starts to beep faster and the more uncomfortable I get the more sounds seem to come from this room.

  I’m trying to make sense of it all, but the more I think about it, the more afraid I become.

  I hear a door click open and the curtain gets pulled to the side.

  A tall man, with a smile on his face, walks over to the side of my bed.

  “Well, hello there. My name is Dr. Roberts. Do you know why you’re here today?” He asks in a calming tone; it’s almost too calm.

  I shake my head no.

  “It’s okay. Let’s back up a bit,” he pulls the chair around from the foot of the bed over to my side.

  Taking a seat next to me he places his elbows up onto the bed.

  “Do you think you can tell me what happened?”

  I shake my head no again.

  “Okay then, how about this? What is the last thing you remember before waking up here in this room?”

  I take in a deep breath and swallow.

  “It’s ok, Zar. You can take your time. We’re in no rush here,” he says.

  I look up at his face. He has light brown hair and bright green eyes similar to Loudon’s, but not quite the same. He seems like someone I should be able to talk to. I just don’t know what to say or how to tell him what has been going on. I don’t want my family to know that I’ve been having these attacks. If they know the pain I’ve been going through it will crush them.

  “You can trust me, Zar,” he says looking me in the eyes.

  I try to speak. My throat hurts so bad, it feels raw. My hand flies up to the front of my neck as if that will help soothe the pain.

  “Here,” the doctor says, handing me a white Styrofoam cup with a straw. “It’s just water, but be careful to only take small sips.”