Major bullying and suicidal thoughts here!


Amara


Harley closes the door behind her as she leaves, and the room gets colder.

Someone visits every day now. Mostly it's my parents and Ben and Harley, but sometimes Jane will have a day off work and spend some time with me, or Mandy will come after her dance classes and talk for a bit.

Harley's the best. She's been more and more like family ever since I met her.

The first time I was shoved into a trash can, I was nine years old. The first time turned into a fifth time, and I think it was the sixteenth time that Mandy found me.

Since it had happened before, I knew how to tip the trash can over so I could get out without making too much noise. Then I felt a hand on my wrist, and the next thing I knew I was crying and clinging to someone wearing a leather jacket.

I looked up to see the oldest of the Freedman sisters making a call. Fifteen minutes later, we heard screaming coming from the other end of the school, and soon a girl came running over, a huge grin on her face.

"I already made arrangements with the school," Harley Freedman said as she slowed herself to a stop next to us. "I told them Mandy and I found you throwing up. Your parents are coming to pick you up. All you need to do is pick up homework from your classes."

With that, Harley ran back to wherever the screaming had come from.

"I'm Mandy," Mandy said. "That was my sister, Harley. I'm sure you already know about her."

With that, I became a part of the innermost circle of protection in the Freedman family. My house became Harley's whenever her parents were angry at her for whatever reason, and soon we figured out I could sing.

I knew I recognized Harley from somewhere. Turns out she and Ben were in Annie together. She was the one who gave me some chocolate after she saw some of the high school kids bullying me and chased after those kids to do God-knows-what to them.

Since then, we grew close. She knew more about me than I knew about Broadway, and that's impressive. I got to know Jane, too, and Mandy to a certain extent.

One day, I saw Mandy crying. I asked her why she was crying, but she didn't say.

Another day, Mandy was playing the piano and singing. Then, she stopped. When I asked her why, she said, "I don't sing." Which is ridiculous, because her voice was great for someone who's never taken choir or private lessons.

Mandy still plays the piano sometimes, though. She knows I like it when she does. She also happens to know a lot of Broadway choreography, and will sometimes offer to teach me some of it. I'm pretty sure I could play almost any part in Wicked now, if choreography was all that counted.

Jane's always been awesome. She lets me hang out in the workshop sometimes, unless what she's working on is dangerous. It's a great place to hide from bullies. They're all terrified of Jane, who stands at about six foot two and wields all sorts of heavy things that could probably give you a nasty concussion with one little bump.

I've learned from each of the sisters. Mandy can tell me anything about biology and Broadway (two subjects that I love), Jane has told me all I'll ever need to know about cars and how to take care of them (she even helped me drive one once), and Harley helps me deal with my bullies. She's taught me a few of her favorite pranks.

"If you have a bad breakup, just mix M&Ms, Reese's pieces, and Skittles together in a bowl and leave it on their doorstep as a 'fuck you' gift," was the first one. Then, it was how to turn any drawer into a makeshift fish tank, several disgusting things you can leave inside gym shoes, and plenty of ways to survive in the wild.

"If you get lost and you don't know how to find water or what plants are edible, you're screwed," she told me once. Then, she proceeded to drill me on every type of edible plant in Michigan. She also told me which plants were invasive, and that if I ever found some, I should uproot them so that "the little fuckers can quit turning our home to shit".

I may not do perfectly in school, but I'm pretty sure I'm the smartest girl in the Upper Peninsula. Well, aside from Mandy. That girl is scary.

But even all three Freedman sisters can't protect me from everything. They know that now, and they're busy... well, tightening security, if that's the right way to put it. None of them want me hurt again.

I don't think they get it. It's too late. I don't want to live like this, but I have no choice. Dad unloads trucks for a living, and Mom works all sorts of odd jobs and weird hours to keep food on the table. It's not like we can afford to go anywhere. And besides, what would we do once we moved? Start the whole process over again, that's what.

If I was gone, there'd be one less person for them to worry about, one less meal to cook, one less backpack to buy. Maybe then Ben could afford to go to that school for pilots he's always wanted to go to.

It's not like I'd be leaving much behind. My family, sure, and the Freedmans, but that's about it. Six people that care. Only six people hurt if I die.

Pretty good, in my opinion.

But it hasn't worked out that way. Even worse, now my parents will have to pay hospital bills that will take at least five years for them to cover. And that's while they pay every other bill they have to pay.

Somehow, they've been managing. Dad got a promotion, and a while back, Mom started finding money in her purse that she was sure wasn't there before. Maybe they'll be able to manage the bills. Maybe. But if they can't, we'll end up homeless in the Upper Peninsula, where the summers bring disease-carrying mosquitoes and the winters bring feet of snow and negative temperatures. It's beautiful here, but it's far from kind if you don't have a roof over your head, and that's what might happen to us if anything goes wrong.

I don't want to be here. I didn't wish this on anyone.

My parents are stressed. Ben's depression is only getting worse. Harley's running around like crazy. Mandy's got bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, and Jane isn't doing much better.

I'm bringing nothing but trouble on all of them. It would be much better if I could just...

"Amara?"

Mandy walks in, still in her leotard, her hair in two short ponytails that make her look younger than she actually is.

"I gotcha something," she says, a smile on her face. She throws her dance bag on the ground and pulls something out of one of the pockets. It's a lemon meringue.

There's a bakery down the street from the dance studio that I love. My favorite thing from there is the chocolate cream pie, but since the hospital doesn't allow food from anywhere except the mess hall, Mandy's been sneaking me treats when she visits. I'll bet she's remembering the time Harley got mad and started a food fight in the cafeteria with a lemon meringue.

"Are you off to the lab?"

"Pretty much. I've got about ten minutes, though, so I thought I'd stop by," Mandy explains.

Out of all the sisters, Mandy's the prettiest. Her hair's darker than Harley's, and more curly. Her skin's super pale, and the freckles on her nose stand out skin that I haven't seen break out once. She's got the cutest smile, too, and it makes her eyes crinkle into sparkling slits. Honestly, the only way I can describe her eyes is like this: Benedict Cumberbatch. But still, she's pretty intimidating when she's got her leather jacket on and she's straddling her motorcycle. And, of course, because she's a Freedman, she's really tall. Not as tall as Jane, but still.

She pulls out a notebook while I eat the meringue. When I'm done, she give my shoulder a squeeze (she doesn't like hugging people), gathers her things, and leaves with a cheery wave as she slips on a coat.

Mandy can never stay long, and when she does come, she doesn't talk much. That's not unusual, though. This time of year, Mandy doesn't talk much to anyone. I think it's too painful for her.

That girl needs to find herself someone just as awesome as she is. They don't have to date each other or anything, just get along. And bring me chocolate cream pie.

Do I really want to die?

No. When it comes down to what I want, no. But when I think of what people around me need...

This is impossible. How can I stop hurting everyone without hurting myself?

Maybe if I tried something quicker this time, like a bullet? Or maybe...

Sadly, the possibilities are endless.


Now, I'm sure you're all wondering what Amara means by this being a painful time of year for Mandy (yes, that's on purpose), and if PTX is ever going to actually come (they will be soon!) and what happened to me (I've been visiting family in California and turning sixteen, so I've been busy).

There's all the questions I can answer.

This chapter is courtesy of my little sister, who imitated Gollum perfectly when asking (demanding) a new chapter for one of my stories. Thank her, not me.

Love you all (especially the reviewers and followers),

carrie