by Wesley King
“Tell her the truth,” I said. “Tell her or I’ll send these to Child Protective Services and the police.”
She stepped toward me, grabbing my arm. “He’s my dad, Sara—”
“And he is hurting my best friend,” I said. “So he is going to stop.”
She threw her hands up and walked away, pacing around my room. “Give me time—”
“Tomorrow,” I said. “I will show this to someone tomorrow afternoon.”
“You psycho!” she shrieked. “You can’t do this—”
The word hit hard. Psycho. I had heard it a million times, but never from her. My one friend. My eyes watered. I wanted to take it back. I wanted to agree to delete it. Maybe I could keep my friend. But I needed to like Sara Malvern.
“I can,” I said quietly. “I already did. Tell your mom the truth. Or CPS. Someone. Tomorrow afternoon I’m showing it to my parents.”
We faced each other across the room. Her face was brilliant red.
“You would throw away our friendship just like that?” she whispered.
A weight settled somewhere in my stomach.
But I knew how to play the Lead Ball. I could walk with my limbs turned to stone.
“If it means he stops hurting you … yes.”
“You are going to break up my family—”
“No,” I said. “He did that.”
She threw her hands up and turned away, staring at the window, trembling.
“You aren’t the same Sara I met, are you?”
“No,” I whispered. “And thank you.”
Erin said nothing. She took out her phone and called for a ride, pacing around the room. Then she headed for the front door, and I followed her slowly, watching as she put on her coat.
When she was dressed, she opened the door, and paused halfway out.
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” she said quietly. “Don’t show anyone.”
“I’ll tell my parents if you don’t. I mean it.”
Her mouth opened, and then she hurried out, slamming the door behind her. She waited in the driveway alone. I watched her through the glass, waiting until she climbed into the car and drove off. Then I went back upstairs, knowing that I had just lost my one and only friend.
CHAPTER 28 NIGHT SKY
I played the Lead Ball all night. I think I was too tired for anything else. There were weights strapped to my arms and legs, and I lay there and thought about the last look that Erin gave me.
Betrayal and hate and who knows what else.
I was ruminating. That’s what Dr. Ring called it. I listened to my mom and dad fight once before bed. I listened to the TV from downstairs. Despite everything, I didn’t regret showing her. The sad thoughts wanted me to regret it. They tried to tell me I was a traitor. A freak. A psycho. Even Erin had said it.
But somewhere deeper, down where thoughts don’t need a voice, I felt proud. And even lying there alone, I felt less lonely than usual. I wasn’t trying to get away from Sara. I wasn’t trying to change her back into something she probably never was. She had done something brave. I liked that.
I slept after that and didn’t stir again until midmorning. It was a Saturday, so it was quiet. My dad usually slept late and watched college football, and my mom went out with friends. The weights were still there when I stood up, but I ignored them and went downstairs.
I sat down next to my dad on the couch. He looked at least half-awake.
“Morning, Princess,” he murmured, sitting up.
“Morning, Daddy.”
“What are you doing today?” he asked. “Going to the park?”
I smiled. “Maybe just watching some football.”
“Really?” he said, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah.”
I patted my pocket to make sure the cell phone was there. No calls or texts. Yet.
Would she do it? I hoped so.
If she didn’t, I would have to show my mom and dad.
The morning passed slowly. Then lunch. We sat and watched football, and my mind was on everything else but that. I thought about group therapy, and Daniel, and James, and all the things that had happened in the last few weeks. I checked my cell phone again and again.
Nothing. Two o’clock passed. Then three.
“Come on, Star Child,” I whispered. “Tell her.”
At four I was getting nervous. I sent her a text message.
I will have to tell my parents if I don’t hear from you. I’m sorry.
There was no reply. I stood up and went to my room. It was time to get the files ready.
I was halfway up the stairs when the phone rang.
I scrambled into my room and closed the door, jamming the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” It was Erin.
“Erin—”
“Just wait,” she cut in.
Her voice was low and hard.
I heard voices in the background, getting louder. She was walking closer to somebody.
“Listen,” Erin said.
The voices got louder. Yelling. Shouting.
“—I saw them! On her whole body! I will call right now!”
It was her mother.
“—you are not going—”
That was him.
“—the police if you do anything,” her mother said. “We’re leaving today—”
“No, you are not—”
“I’ve already made a report! You just get your story ready—”
The voices were suddenly muted again.
“Happy?” Erin asked.
I closed my eyes. She hated me. I could hear it in her voice.
“Where are you going?” I whispered.
“My grandparents in Maine. For a while. It depends what happens to my dad.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Yeah,” she said. “So am I.”
She hung up, and I stood there for a moment. Then I sat down at my desk and took out the tenets. I could feel a Game coming on. False Alarm maybe. So instead I read them all aloud.
“Tenet number one. You are a Star Child for life—”
* * *
I was sitting on the couch again at seven that night. We had eaten dinner, and my dad and I were still watching football. There was a never-ending lineup of games. But Mom was out, and I wanted to be around someone, even if he was snoring beside me.
I was dozing off too when there was a knock at the door.
It was quiet, and he didn’t even stir.
Slipping off the couch, I went to the door and peeked out the window. Stunned, I pulled open the door to reveal Erin on the porch, hands jammed into her pockets, wreathed with snow.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.”
She was bundled up. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were swollen from crying. There was a car in the driveway—her mom and her brother were in the front seats, bags piled in the back.
“They don’t know it was you,” Erin said. “I didn’t tell them.”
She glanced at them, and then stepped closer to me.
“You know … my brother punched him. After all that, he was the angriest of all.”
I opened my mouth. I didn’t know what to say. My eyes were filling with tears.
Erin sighed. “Mom asked if I wanted to say good-bye to you. We’ll be gone for a while, I think. Dad wouldn’t leave, so we are. And she called the cops. He is at the station now, I think.”
“Erin—”
“I said no, at first. But we were driving and I changed my mind.” She hesitated, and her eyes were glassy when she turned them back to me. “I’m angry at you. Like, crazy, crazy mad. And confused. I can’t decide if I want to punch you or hug you. I know you cared. But I asked you not to get involved.”
“I know,” I said.
“It will take some time to get over this. I don’t know if I can. Maybe we can be friends again one day. I need to see what happens to my family. My brother wants to kill
him. My mom—she feels guilty. I think she just wanted to pretend. But she showed me bruises. He was hurting her, too. He was hurting her.”
She grabbed my hand.
“Ugh. It might take some time. But you’re not a psycho. Or a freak, or whatever else I said when I was mad. You are a Star Child. No doubt about it. Don’t change back. Promise me.”
I couldn’t hold back the tears now. They leaked down my face.
“I promise.”
She pulled me into a hug and then hurried back to her car. She didn’t look when they drove away. I stood out there for a minute or two, and then I walked back in and closed the door.
Tears were still pouring down my face.
My dad was standing there, leaning against the stairs.
“You have some explaining to do,” he said quietly.
* * *
We waited for my mom. Then I told them everything.
They were angry. And upset. My dad punched the wall and threatened to beat up Mr. Stewart. Then they hugged me. In the end I wasn’t even grounded because what could they really take away? Well, they took back my spying equipment, but I was done with it anyway.
We watched a movie that night. All three of us.
And we sat there and my dad ran his fingers through my hair.
For some reason, I thought about something Dr. Ring always said.
If you want to be someone else at the end of this, then you will be disappointed.
For all my rules, no matter how much I had tried, I was still Sara at the end.
“So,” my mom said. “What is the point of these again?”
She was holding my tenets. I had even told them about Star Children and brought down my five tenets to show them.
“They’re guidelines,” I said.
“Guidelines for what?” she asked, reading them over.
“How to like myself.”
She was silent for a moment. My dad and she looked at each other.
“Well, you better follow them closely, then,” he said.
“I will,” I replied solemnly. “I am hilarious, after all. And brilliant. What’s not to like?”
My mom snorted. “I’m going to have to get used to this new confidence, I guess.”
I just smiled and snuggled closer to my dad. Yes, she was. I had tried my rules. I had tried to be like everyone else. I wasn’t. I never would be. After all that, I was still Sara Malvern.
And maybe that was fine.
I took out my cell phone and sent Erin a message:
If you ever need anything, I’m here. Can we still be Star Children together?
It was an hour or two before she wrote back. I was in bed when my phone buzzed.
I picked it up and smiled.
Tenet #1: We are Star Children for life.
FAREWELL: FOR NOW
Blue whales spend a lot of time alone. We don’t know much about them, which is funny, because they have been around a long time and they are the biggest animals to ever live. But we know they like to be alone more than most whales.
They eat a lot, for one thing, so maybe they have to be alone out of necessity. There’s only so much krill to go around. But maybe they also like it. It’s hard to say, since you can’t exactly ask them, and even if you do, you might not understand their answer. But sometimes blue whales get together in pods, too. We don’t really know why they do that, either, but I guess it’s because we all need other people sometimes … or whales, in this case. And it is nice when someone sings back to you.
I wonder if you think I’m crazy. I guess I never really proved anything. I still take my pills, I still go to group therapy, and I live by tenets instead of rules, but I realized that’s a part of my normal. I get to say what normal means, and that makes it a lot easier to find.
And maybe I am a Star Child, or maybe I am just insane, or maybe I am a blue whale. But no matter what, my name is Sara Malvern, and it was nice to meet you. And if you feel really lonely sometimes, then you aren’t the only one.
If you ever get down, or feel alone, just remember the five basic tenets:
1. You are a Star Child for life.
2. Star Children must always help each other.
3. Never be unkind to normal humans (unless they deserve it).
4. Never be ashamed of being a Star Child.
5. A Star Child never gives up, even when it is really, really hard.
They are all important, but maybe the last one most of all.
Do me one last favor before you go. Go look in your eyes. Do you see the yellow rings around your pupils? I always think of a star emerging from the darkness. Maybe a supernova.
I look at my eyes now, and I remember that I am a Star Child. There is lots of darkness around me and sometimes my light takes a very long time to reach anything, but it does, and somebody somewhere might need to see that light, even if they never tell me about it.
EPILOGUE (OR THE PART AFTER THE STORY)
Ten months later, I was sitting in school on a Tuesday. I was writing a note and my new teacher, Miss Lecky, was talking.
I finished my note and tucked it in my pocket. I could place it in his bag at the first opportunity. I would have to be sneaky about it, but I was good at sneaking. It was very short.
It said:
I need your help.
—Fellow Star Child
I had been watching him, debating, wondering if I could bear to reach out to someone again. I needed help. That part was true. My father was gone. He had left a note explaining that he needed to get away, but I didn’t believe it. He wouldn’t just leave me. He had promised me.
Something had happened to him, and I needed to find out what.
Erin had moved permanently to Maine. Without her dad. She was too far to help, and I didn’t have anyone else. I didn’t have Daniel, either, not yet, but he was a Star Child. I was sure of it. And I thought I could help him, too. I could see his suffering and it made my heart hurt. My tenets said I had to help, and that he had to help me.
So I decided to start with something bold.
The bell rang for the end of the day. Miss Lecky and I packed up and started toward the office. I knew his schedule by now. This time everything was planned to perfection.
He approached with Max and Taj, small between them and stepping over the cracks, though no one else ever seemed to notice. I had not spoken to any students at my school for almost four years. But today I looked at him, and he looked at me, and I held his blue eyes and saw the little yellow supernovas blazing at their center. It was time to meet another Star Child.
“Hello, Daniel.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
When I wrote OCDaniel, I had a pretty specific target audience. Namely, my twelve-year-old self. That gangly, pimply faced kid was afraid. And lonely. And he spent an awful lot of time thinking he would stay that way forever. So I wrote him a story. It was about his disorder, yes, but it was mostly about hope. It was about realizing that connecting with people we trust, and who understand what we are dealing with, is critical to dealing with our issues. I wanted that scared twelve-year-old kid to know that he could tell someone … which he didn’t for many more long, scary years.
As it turned out, that story connected with a lot of people. Kids and adults. Readers around the world. People started to tell me their stories—by handwritten letter, by email, or in person. Brave students walked up and told me they had been diagnosed with OCD, or bipolar disorder, or ADHD. We all started talking about our challenges. It was amazing. Somewhere, I like to think that twelve-year-old kid was thinking: All of that fear was worth it. All of it led to an opportunity to spread awareness and encourage others to TALK.
Another topic was also very popular: the singular Sara Malvern. Readers loved her just as much as I did. They wanted to know more about her. She was the shining light in Daniel’s story … but how did she become so self-confident? Was she always like that? How did she become that wonderfully bizarre, brilliant person? Lucky enough for me, that
interest, and my amazing editor’s encouragement, led me to tell this story.
Sara gave me the chance to go deeper. As anyone who deals with mental illness knows, a lot of disorders are interrelated. I dealt with OCD, but also general anxiety and panic disorders. Sometimes, I had three or four panic attacks a day. At times, depression reared its ugly head.
It all felt so shameful. All I wanted was to be better. To be normal.
Sara is the shining light in my story too. She gave me the chance to explore another very important relationship for all of us: the one with ourselves. This book is about changing that voice in our heads. It is about understanding and accepting everything that makes us weird and wonderful.
But Sara had help to get there, even if she was reluctant to accept it at first. We should never, ever be afraid to ask for help either. If you feel alone, or if you want to talk, ask for help. Talk to your loved ones, friends, or a teacher. Talk to a doctor, who can refer you to a trained psychologist.
Let’s remember to always make ourselves available for others. Let’s make sure we can be the trusted support system for someone to turn to. If we all do that one little thing, we can make sure that nobody feels alone in their struggle. I know I don’t. Not anymore.
If you are looking for information or resources online, remember to only use trusted sites. Some excellent sites to research or help with issues like the ones Sara deals with are www.nami.org and www.childmind.org. You can also search for national mental health associations, like www.cmha.ca in Canada and www.mhanational.org in the USA, which can help refer you to trained local specialists.
—Wesley King
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