Have you ever had a secret you couldn't tell anyone, even your family? Well, I do. One very dark and terrible secret. And if you knew my family, then you would know how insanely hard it is to keep anything from anyone. It's like we were born into some little faction of the CIA; except my siblings are better. How exactly can I explain my family to you without sounding like the cheesy plot of a horrible reality show? I'm the baby of a family of 6, well 7, and I am 18 years old. My father died a little over a year ago, leaving my family in debt, his business nearly bankrupt, and oh yes, the news of a mistress and a supposed older sister that I didn't know I had. I have three brothers and three sisters. Kevin is the gay attorney, Tommy is president of the family winery, and Justin is a soldier who just recently got over drug addiction for the second time. My sister Kitty used to have her own talk show but now she is the wife of the former Republican runner up for president of the United States. Sarah is also involved in the family business while trying to balance kids and a bad divorce. And lastly, comes Rebecca. Rebecca is the infamous lovechild; except she wasn't my father's lovechild. Now I think Justin and Rebecca like each other but, honestly, I am trying to not know.
Lastly, there's me…the 18-year-old part time college student who tries so desperately to be the glue that holds this insane family together. Even though I'm the youngest, they all come to me for advice or just end up spilling their guts to me even when I don't ask. You see, I am the one with a smile for everyone and kind words. I don't get mad, I don't cry, and I never fight. (Except for my once-mini breakdown when I found out about Rebecca.) That's exactly the way my family loves me too. I have great relationships with all of them, albeit very different ones. If I had to pick, I would say I was closest with Justin. He's the only one who really understands what it's like to pretend you're okay when you aren't. He knows what it's like to hide from the ever-constricting Walker family; to feel like you are trying to breathe air in an 8 foot pool. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to swim up to the surface.
Ever since my dad died, it had been one blow after another, some with more force than others. Right now, the current issue of the hour is Kitty and her husband Robert's inability to adopt; which, compared to other things, is a cakewalk. Tommy and Kevin are still mad at each other and Mom is still trying to find herself after 40 years of being in the giant shadow of my dad. I guess I still haven't told you the secrets yet; it's so hard to even in this journal. I keep thinking that one of my siblings is going to pop in here any minute and just figure it out. Well, since they are too busy with their own lives, like usual, I'll just come out with it. I'm a cutter. That's right. I cut myself and I enjoy it. Morbid right? I know. I just can't seem to stop anymore. I only do it across my wrists very lightly and cover it up with thick bracelets or long sleeves. I remember so well the first time I ever did it. It was during the mini-intervention we had when we found out that Justin was using again. He was so angry at all of us. He accused me of being "Little Miss Perfect". He said I didn't know anything about pain or the real world. He called me pathetic and a liar and that it was hard for him to be in the same room with me. He said that he wished I was the lovechild so there would be a doubt that we weren't related. Ouch right? I went upstairs, tears nearly blinding me. I couldn't finish the intervention. My heart turned to steel even though a small part of me knew it was just the drugs talking.
But hearing those words come from someone I trusted and loved so much killed me. I was just lying face down on my bed, crying my eyes out. I didn't even think about cutting myself but I knew I wanted to do something bad to get my mind off what was ringing around in my head. I heard a knock at the door. I didn't say anything or even move; I just silently prayed it wasn't Justin to finish what he started.
"Hey, honey," Tommy's voice said.
That made me sit up straight. I didn't expect Tommy at all. It wasn't that Tommy and I weren't close but it wasn't like he was the one that I called when I was upset. I expected Mom, Sarah, or usually Justin to come talk to me. I wiped my eyes foolishly, thinking maybe if the tears were gone, he wouldn't ask me anything.
"Hi," I said softly.
He came and sat down on the end of my bed.
"So I guess "are you okay" is a dumb question, huh?" He tried to tease.
That was Tommy's way of dealing with anything; dry, sarcastic humor. That, or just plain rage. I didn't answer.
"Listen, Emma, I know how upset you are and I don't blame you. But none of this is your fault. Justin…well, Justin has a lot of problems. You know that. It got worse when he came back. It wasn't him talking back there."
"It was the drugs, right?" I interrupted my voice deeper in my ears. "You weren't there, Tommy. You didn't hear what he said. He doesn't want to be related to me. He hates me!"
Tommy moved closer to me.
"No, sweetheart, he doesn't. He loves you so much."
"Then why did he say that?! He was mean to everyone else but he was especially mean to me. He didn't tell the others he couldn't be in the same room with them. Why me?" I held in a big sob and it came out in a hiccup.
Tommy put his big, muscular hand on my back and rubbed in between my shoulders.
"Because he's closest to you and he's angry that we're confronting him. All he cares about right now is drugs and we are all standing in the way. Don't let him get to you; not when he's like this. He needs you, Emma. He loves you and he needs you to be strong."
"You were right." I whispered.
"What do you mean?" He asked, pushing my hair off my face.
"He's never gonna change. Why should I care? You stopped. I'll stop too."
"Is that what you think?" He asked, shocked. "Emma, I'm NEVER going to stop caring about any of you! We are a family and that's what families do. I know you're hurt and worried about him. But please, baby, don't talk like that. Not you."
I nodded at him. He smiled but it looked a little forced. He wiped a tear away from my cheek.
"Can I go to my friend's house for a little while?" I asked.
He sighed. "He really broke your heart, didn't he? I don't see why not. Just tell Mom before you go."
Suddenly, we heard a loud bang from down the hall and Kevin screaming, "Damn it, Justin!"
"I'd better get in there before Justin throws Kevin off the roof." He said, patting my leg.
"Ok." I said softly.
He stood and kissed my forehead.
"Love you, Emma. "
"Love you too. Thanks for coming to talk to me."
"Not a problem, kiddo, you're stuck with me for life." He winked.
He left and went towards all the commotion. I didn't know what I wanted to do. I knew I didn't want to be around all the chaos at home but at the same time, I didn't want to leave my room. But I slowly opened the door to my bedroom and looked around. There was enough banging around upstairs to match a choir of circus elephants. My stomach felt like it knotted in a thousand little balls, dancing and bouncing against each other. So when I went to the bathroom, I had no intention of cutting. I tried to throw up over the sink but no bile would come out…I guess it enjoyed poisoning my insides too much to let me go. I stared at myself in the mirror. My green eyes were bloodshot and puffy, my cheeks red and wet, and my mouth drawn into a permanent frown. My skin was at least two shades too pale and my hair was tangled and a little oily. I looked like I was addict myself.
My only addiction then was loving my family too much. And that's when I saw it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small, black razor sitting in the soap holder in the tub. It was probably Sarah's or Kitty's. It was too small to be a man's razor and if Mom shaved, her razor wouldn't be in the guest bathroom. I knew about cutting from friends at school and even Demi Lovato. But back then, my life was at least somewhat normal and cutting seemed almost insane to me. Why would anyone want to hurt themselves, I used to wonder. Now I knew. Slamming my head against the wall would feel better than the way I was feeling. It was like someone stabbed my heart and it was just hopelessly bleeding in my insides. It wasn't just what Justin said, which hurt like holy hell. It was everything.
I thought I was okay with Dad being gone but when every 5 seconds, something new pops up, it's hard to move on. I know it's wrong but sometimes I felt like Dad was up, or down, there torturing us. Why else would Tommy and Julia lose their other child? No one understood what it was like to me. I felt like a bystander, just watching as everything I love came tumbling down. And the worst part of it all is that there is nothing I can do. That razor was still in the soap holder, waiting patiently for me to make my decision. My heart thumped in my chest and my palms began to sweat. I locked the bathroom door and picked up the razor.
"Just one cut," I whispered.
I didn't even hesitate…I dragged the blade across a big, blue vein in my left wrist. Crimson blood started to make its way out. I was mesmerized by the deep color; too enthralled to realize how much it hurt. As I watched the blood, I thought about what Justin said. I felt like his words were pouring out of my wrist, leaving my body. Like I pro, I rinsed the cut, put peroxide on it and put a hand towel over it. I went back to my room un-noticed. I locked the door and stared at the picture of my family above my bed.
"You can't hurt me anymore, Justin. None of you can," I whispered.
I took the picture down and pushed it under the bed.
"Only I can." I said.