AN) My second fanfic. Yay! Anyways, this contains, some drug content and a little gory-ness, just a small amount of blood content. Constructive criticism welcome. Enjoy.
Disclaimer-I do not own Clique or any brands mentioned.
You sit against the wall and think, sharp pocket knife blade in hand, remembering what caused you to be this way. Look down to see your "tally marks"; cuts on your inner arms caused by a number of sharp blades. Calling them "tally marks" instead of "cuts I inflict on myself deliberately" because you refuse to admit you have a problem. You look back... trying to remember what caused you to be this way, though you know the story is all too familiar. And it all revolves around her.
Seventh Grade. Halloween party. You see her, but you don't know her. Just a speck of dust floating in the air, though part of the A-List OCD clique you and your friends are somewhat in. Gathering up courage to talk to her, you become acquaintances. Later, in the bathroom, with Derrick, Massie, and Dylan, she and her mysterious, blonde, wet-suit wearing friend barges in, to scare the group. You start to run after her, but knock into the white-blond, blue eyed, new girl. Falling for the new girl, you forget about her. But…
You've noticed her.
Eighth Grade.You've broken up with New Girl and Mysterious-Blonde-Wet-suit- Wearing- girl, now named Olivia. After intense negotiation with Dean Don and Principal Burns, you and your friends are back in the main building.
Eighth Grade: P.E. She says she can't run, but at the end of the electives cycle, with a average of 63 percent, she decides to run with you when the class runs the last graded mile run of the cycle, because her boyfriend is in a different elective. You don't know why you feel slightly jealous of "Boyfriend" but you shrug it off, unable to remember that you had noticed her at the Halloween party a year ago. You both finished running. Time: 6 minutes, 47 seconds. She's amazed, you exchange numbers. Then you finally remember, you had noticed her at the Halloween party. She actually just ran…with you…
You like her...
But there's still Ralph Lauren obsessed "Boyfriend".
Continuing to talk to her, you become good friends. There's still "Boyfriend." But you know they won't last long so you wait for your chance.
You wait.
End of ninth grade."Boyfriend" is still around. You know they will break up soon, so you wait some more. At last noticing she has been to object of your affection for almost two years, you realize…
You love her.
Beginning of tenth grade. You're still waiting because; you know she doesn't love "Boyfriend", your time will come. Until she calls you and joyfully says…
"I love him."
Breaking point. Seeing how much of your life was spent devoted to her, you turn to drugs, marijuana to be exact. You're good at hiding your drug obsession to the world, only because you're A-List. All A-Liters had to be perfect. Until she spots you smoking a joint behind school and begged and pleaded, tears running down her eyes for you to stop. You do, only for her sake, but now off drugs you remember that having her is nearly an impossibility and an extremely severe case of depression sets in. You start "tally marking" yourself.
The rest tenth grade…
Eleventh Grade…
Twelfth Grade."The A-List always has to stick together." Massie said. And they did. You and you're A-List friends all get into Brown University. Including her and "Boyfriend". Publicly, you are his best friend, but inside... Hatred. For him and life itself.
College: Senior year. Your case of depression has worsened since you started college. Due to excessive "tally marking" you've now devoted your life to wearing only long-sleeved shirts and sweat shirts. The marijuana obsession has come back, though you have the power to turn it on and off in order to appear healthy. You randomly hook up with girls at parties to mask the pain. And as a true master, you hide it from the world, even she forgot about when she caught you smoking weed. Your friends and family still see the same old Cam they grew to love. By some unknown force you still find a way to get good grades. Yet inside you are a volcano, bubbling up; about to reach your peak and do something drastic. To make matters worse she and boyfriend are the It Couple. They have their own apartment off campus, are rarely seen without each other on campus, and they never attend parties… Until today.
Today: 35 Minutes ago.You sit by your laptop, finishing your history essay, eyes burning from staring at the computer. The slight smell of marijuana hovered in your single- person dorm, though you mask it with air fresheners, and Drakkar Noir. You decide to take a break to check your e-mail. You see one new message from Alicia, your heat beats faster, and you quickly open it.
--Original Message--
Sent: Friday, October 11, 11:45 A.M.
From: Alicia Rivera
To: Cam Fisher
Subject: Can you help?
Cam-
Things have been pretty hectic for a while…in a good way. But I can't believe I haven't had a decent conversation with you since freshman year ... ... But now something's wrong, and you always seem to help… it's about Josh and me. I think he's been hiding something for a while now…If you don't reply back, you're probably thinking I should figure it out by myself. I totally understand.
-Alicia
You smile for the first time in months, probably years. It was your time. But you decide to "get some fresh air": To consider whether or not to be a good friend to "Boyfriend". Which thus leads to being the "perfect" A-Lister, "perfect" friend, "perfect" son, and "perfect" person, facade you put out to the world. Or defile your "perfection" facade to earn the girl and live the life you dreamed of. Ultimately when situations like these arise, you always pick the "perfection", facade because if the "defiling" part backfires you are left with…nothing, and the thought of failure sets you in a deeper sense of misery. But even though you already know what choice you are going to pick when you "get some fresh air", you shuffle around and found a relatively clean pair of pants. As you put them on, a gold envelope falls out of the pocket. You open it.
You are cordially invited to:
Confession
(Where the all of the Brown University A-List will come together and inform "confess" to the group about their lives.)
Hosts: Massie Block, Alicia Rivera
Date: October 12th
Time: 9:30-11:30 (BOCD A-List is allowed to be late)
Where: Grand Hall
Dress Code: Formal
You skim over it once and roll your eyes, ready to throw it away, thinking to party already occurred. Leave it to Massie to throw a meaningless, formal, college party, and give it a silly theme "Confession"? We live on the same campus; And she had to make the dress code formal, just so she can show off her new Versace or any other high fashion designer dress, because their was no way she could go to a regular college party in that dress and get back home with it in one piece. But then, you remember it's October 12th, and you read the invitation in more depth. "Hosts: Massie Block, Alicia Rivera" Your heart speeds up even more, and your palms become clammy. You read again: "Alicia Rivera." You quickly run over to your closet and pull on your Armani tuxedo you've haven't worn in months, spray on some Drakkar Noir, and rush out the door. You run all the way to the other side of the campus, chilly October air stinging your face, forgetting you have a car. You reach the Grand Hall out of breath, you spot her; as usual, leisurely walking towards in an incredibly large rectangular-shaped table.
"Alicia!" You jog up to her. "I have to tell you-"
"Hold that thought. We're 'confessing'." Alicia said glancing towards Josh, eyes in a hurt/ 'what could he possibly be hiding from me' look. Without another word said, you both sit down. Alicia sits next to Josh and you sit across from her. You exchange greetings with the people around you.
"Now that we're all seated," Massie started. As you predicted, she was wearing black, V-necked Versace dress. "Let's 'confess', Josh wanted to go first, so Josh…" Massie gave him a hand signal telling him to stand up.
"Well…" Josh starts. You look away and block out his voice. When you look back he's on one knee, a small velvet black box in hand, which revealed an expensive diamond engagement ring. "…Now you know what I've been hiding." The look on Alicia's face was void of any hurt/ 'what could he possibly be hiding from me' emotions she contained only mere minutes ago. She murmured a simple "yes" through a teary, blissful smile, and reached over to hug him. Your ears ring against all the congratulation chatter; you get up, mutter a weak congratulation to the couple and rush out the door, the rest of the room not noticing.
Now. You're story has finally finished. You look down at your inner arms, to see "tally marks" from your wrists up to your elbow. Sharp pocket knife blade still in hand and count your most recent "tally marks", mostly all slanted, some straight, a few unhealed cuts, others only scars, though together a total of 21. 21 times depression has caused you to cause pain on yourself. 21 times life has been significantly cruel to you. 21 times situations similar to, but not as extensive as this…engagement has occurred. You thrust the blade against your arm.
Tally Mark #22.
You realize all the time you've spent on her, wasted.
Tally Mark #23.
Tally Mark #24.
Because, "Boyfriend" never left, they're engaged.
Tally Mark #25.
Tally Mark #26.
Tally Mark #27.
It's Over…
Tally Mark #28
Tally Mark #29
Tally Mark #30
But you still love her.
Tally Mark #31
Tally Mark #32
Tally Mark #33
Tally Mark #34
You lift your arms, the blood flows down, like tears.
Tears that you shed alone in tenth grade when she said she loved him.
Tears that she shed when Josh asked to marry her.
Tears you shed when you ran back to your dorm.
Tears that she will shed at the funeral…
When you kill yourself.