Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi
I bite my lips, a habit I had developed over the past week. A horrible, terrible and absolutely ugly habit that I had developed. Tori has always told me that lip biting is for the terribly anxious and hopelessly depressed. I haven't seen Tori in a while, thus she couldn't tell me how terribly anxious and hopelessly depressed I am. She hasn't stepped her heel clad foot in my room for a week, I haven't heard her snippy voice, or her popping her gum. I haven't heard her nails tapping rapidly against her desk in English and I certainly haven't seen her reapply her makeup nine times a day.
Tori hasn't came by to see me in a week. I haven't received a text message from her, or a phone call. She hasn't spoken a word to me in a week. Tori had promised me - scratch that, pinkie promised me that she'd be there for me the moment I broke down in front of her three months ago and confessed about what is eating my mother alive. Tori had held me as I cried into her expensive navy blue blazer, she patted down my blond locks and gently rocked me as we sat in front of the lockers at Degrassi. Both of us had ditched out English class to just sit on the side of the hallway while she rocked me and promised me nineteen times in that fifty five minute time span that she'd be there for me here on out.
The pathetic thing was that I believed her, I believed Tori because Tori was my best friend. We started off on the wrong foot, but soon came to realize that maybe friendship would suit us better and it did, we were the best of friends. Tori would ditch the table of grade twelves to sit with me at lunch and she would take me out shopping with her using her father's credit card. I grew attached to Tori and I assumed Tori grew attached to me as well.
But I assumed wrong. Tori wasn't there for me when she said she would be. She never soothed me after each of my mother's doctor's appointments or came by the hospital to see my mother either. My mother liked Tori, sought her out to be a good girl with pretty looks to get her far, always said she had a huge ego, but she balanced it out with her kindness she had deep down in her heart. I always figured Tori had to see her father or she had to calm Tristan down after he had a huge argument with his older brother Owen. But I was wrong.
Tori had been avoiding me for the past month whenever it came to my mother, she would speak with me and take me shopping as a way to comfort me, but it was never a frequent thing with Tori like it use to be. But this past week, I had thought - assumed that Tori would stop by and visit me, apologize and cry - say how sorry she was for leaving me in my time of need and then we'd have a nice friendship hug that we'd always remember.
But this wasn't a cliche movie moment. This was reality and I know that Tori was never going to come through my bedroom door and apologize. I know that Tori is either out shopping or is at home dealing with her father. I knew for a fact that I wouldn't be seeing Tori Santamaria for a long time, our friendship was in shambles and it was beyond repair at this point.
The sad thing is that we both know this as well.
I bit my lip again as I the thoughts of Tori left my mind, I knew they'd eventually come back around. They always do don't they? Thoughts of a person always come back around. We can't stop them as much as we want to, but they keep coming back like a nagging Jehovah Witness offering for you to join them on their bicycles. It always ends with a "no thank you" and the door closing. I wished I could do that to my thoughts, it'd be nice to close the door on my thoughts. Problem was that the door was stuck and was unable to close shut.
"Dad? Has Maya eaten today?" I heard Katie call out from the other side of my door. This was another daily occurrence. Katie would come home from being the child prodigy, the soccer star, the school president, the popular grade twelve who is dating the quarterback, the girl who can do all of that and manage straight A grades ever since grade nine. Mom use to call Katie her little overachiever, she'd always put Katie's straight A's on the refrigerator as a reminder every time you opened the fridge for a lunch ables that Katie has better grades than you do. That Katie can manage good grades and still be little miss perfect. It use to irk me a lot when I was younger and would watch Katie be the apple of my parents eyes, especially mom's. I've been stuck in Katie's glowing shadow ever since the moment I could walk and to be honest, it sucked. To have that perfect older sibling that everyone worships and loves. Then when they approach you, they always ask,
"Are you Katie Matlin's little sister?"
In which you'd reply with a yes and they'd gush more about your sister than your parents do on a daily basis at the dinner table. Eventually you'd walk away and shake your head, just wishing to be alone and left alone.
And now I am. I got my wish, I am left alone. But now I wish I was being nagged by random people at school or even by Katie. As much as Katie can get annoying and overly righteous a good ninety five percent of the time, I still love her. My sister is everything I'm not and everything I've always wanted to be. I've always sought Katie out to be perfect as can be, she always seemed happy and go lucky, but the truth was that Katie isn't perfect. When she was admitted to the hospital for not purging profusely that she injured the inside of her throat.. I felt like sobbing. I thought I'd lose my older sister, I thought I'd never see another A plus on the refrigerator with her name at the top, I thought I'd never hear another of her rants on animal cruelty and I thought I'd never get to hear her say goodnight to me every night like she has done since I was four. Katie may have seemed perfect and even in our current situation she's taking everything with ease and poise, careful not to fall and mess every little thing up, because Katie lives to please and make sure everything is top notch.
She got that from our mother.
I heard shuffling feet outside my bedroom door and the sound of a hand twisting the handle, but soon it stopped. The handle was let go of and the footsteps retreated and soon I heard nothing but the muffled sound of someone walking down the staircase and out the front door in a swift move. Of course it was Katie, she was another who couldn't face me. But unlike Tori, Katie soothed me after our mother's doctor appointments and when she was admitted into the hospital for intense care and chemotherapy. But it was never Katie who delivered the news of our mother's death, neither was it our father - it was the attendance lady at Degrassi. I had been called down over the intercom and when I arrived at the desk the woman sat me down and told me as gently as the old sixty five year old could muster that my mother had passed away this afternoon.
I believe she expected me to throw a tantrum, to scream and defy her words, to call her a lying bitch or to become incredibly angry. She seemed ready for any of those responses I'd make from overwhelmed emotions, but she wasn't ready to see me stand up, grab my bag and tell her thank you before leaving to return back to my classroom. I stayed silent the rest of the day, didn't respond to Tori's ramblings about this boy named Dylan she has a crush on or to Tristan's complaints about his meat head of a brother. I didn't even respond to Zig's tale about a skateboard trick he managed to accomplish yesterday afternoon with some of his buddies down at The Pit as they called the skateboard center. I know as rightful act of being his girlfriend, I should have pulled Zig aside and told him what the lady at the front office had informed me of - I should have told him that my mother had finally passed away and I wasn't feeling right. That I wasn't angry or sad, but I didn't tell Zig anything. Of course he knew something was wrong and asked many times, twenty three times to be exact, if I was feeling well or if I was upset over something Tori may have said seeing as Zig knew my tendency to get easily annoyed. But I didn't reply which I think made him more concerned. He walked me home that day and when he asked if he could come inside and hang out with me and watch a television show together, I replied with a croaky no.
I always say yes.
Zig eventually found out about my mother's death from Katie who supposedly told him at school. That was the day after she had died, I had been staying home on trauma leave from school until I could build up enough strength to get up from bed and make myself productive. But that itself has been difficult for any situation besides using the washroom or taking a shower. That day I had been in the same position I was in at the moment, on my right side curled up with a pillow my mother gave me when I was three. Curled up in that position, Zig had came into my room with the most sympathetic look on his face as he approached me and just.. held my hand.
No hello kisses, no goodbye kisses, no hugs, no tears, no talking.. just him holding my hand for as long as I can remember. When the night had fallen, Zig murmured about having to leave to get home, he gave my hand a small squeeze before leaving. The next day, the same events repeated,
Wake up, get up to use the washroom, back to bed, sleep, wake up, take a five minute shower, back to bed, stay awake thinking, Katie returns home, Katie leaves home, more thinking, Zig comes by to hold my hand, Zig leaves, Katie returns home to say goodnight, sleep.
I was pulled from my daily schedule when I heard the door handle jiggle and then open up slowly, I looked up to see it was Zig who had opened the door. He had a small smile on his face as he dropped his backpack by the door, along with his newly cleaned skateboard as he walked across my room in four strides to sit on the edge of my bed and grab onto my free hand.
Then we sat there. As simple as it was, he sat there and I laid there as he held onto my hand for what I presumed would be for over an hour or two. I never really know, I haven't kept track of time or the dates for a good week. But as I bit my lip once more, feeling the skin break and the drops of blood drip into my mouth, tasting like steel. That drop of blood made me feel more than I had for the past week and it made absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. I felt weak and utterly pathetic. I had spent all this time wallowing in self pity, not helping Katie or my father out or even going to school which use to be joyous for me.
I was a shell of what I use to be.
I was utterly nothing now.
I swallowed hard and slowly began to lean up on my elbow as the echoed words of nothing rang through my mind, bounced off my skull and hit eachother fervently. Zig noticed as I struggled to sit up on my own and took this as a sign to wrap his arm around my shoulders and slowly hoist me up into the sitting position which made my weak body ache and my mind to feel fuzzy.
"Do you want something to eat? It'll help you get better." Zig said softly as he softly squeezed my shoulder, I leaned my head against his shoulder and nodded softly, feeling the hunger finally settle in. I had only been drinking water that Zig has been bringing me for the past week, but now I was beginning to realize how much I needed some type of edible food to make me feel the some type of nourishment.
Zig smiled softly, probably happy that I was progressing at some sense by wanting to eat. I had sensed that he was concerned at my dwindling weight, comparing my body to Katie's constant battle and seeking out answers. He grabbed his backpack off the ground and pulled it onto his lap, pulling out his bagged lunch,
"I didn't have time today to eat my lunch, so its all yours. Its my mom's famously gross turkey sandwiches and a bruised banana that might have gotten squished during the day somehow. I mean if you don't want these, I can get something else for you. Anything! I'll board down to The Dot and get you that one burger you like, anything you want.. its yours." Zig said rapidly, stumbling over his words as he unwrapped the bag of food and placed the sandwich in my lap. I tried my hardest not to burst out laughing at his eagerness to get me to eat anything. I sighed and placed a hand on his arm which instantly caught his attention as he looked down at me with concerned eyes.
"This is perfect. Thank you." I murmured in a croaky voice. It was the first time in a week I had spoken to anyone since I told Zig to not come inside my house. A smile crept over Zig's face as he nodded and pulled out the banana as well and set it on my lap as I unwrapped the sandwich bag and began to devour the soggy bread and meat. I've tasted better sandwiches, but at the moment those better tasting sandwiches didn't matter. Zig's mother who could be a bit scatterbrained made this and I was going to eat all of it to satisfy both Zig and his mother who I assume also knows about recent events.
The soggy bread and meat was only the beginning of a long recovery. That I knew of surely. It may take me another week, maybe two to fully get out of bed and try to conquer the darkness pulling me in deeper. But for now, I had a soggy sandwich, a bruised banana and a boy I called mine to help me take a step further.
It's a long process, but no one said I couldn't conquer it.
A/N: Again, very bad. :/ But I enjoyed writing it so please review!
