OJAI MENTAL INSTITUTE
OUTSIDE THE FRONT DOOR
Saturday, September 8th
10:07 am
Vanessa stood face-to-face with her mother under the blazing sun outside the front door of the Ojai Mental institute, wondering what on earth Abby could want the two of them to talk about.
But Delia Boyd, apparently, did not have the same problem. "Abby says she was the one who caused you all your…problems," Delia stated. "She says you don't need rehab."
Vanessa's mouth dropped open, and she pressed her fingers to it, smearing her gloss. A thousand questions raced through her head. Abby had told her mother? Really? Why was everything going so well all of a sudden? Was this something Abby had planned to get her hopes up and then send them crashing down again? As Vanessa took a deep breath, her optimistic side spoke up. Trust it.
"No," Vanessa told her mother. "I don't need rehab. But you forced me here, anyways." She did her best to keep the contempt out of her voice and thought she succeeded rather well.
Delia's eyes narrowed slightly. "So. Convince me. Why don't you need rehab?"
Trust it. Trust, the optimistic voice echoed. Vanessa swallowed the nervousness in her throat, briefly wondering why she was nervous in the first place. "I used to be a person who needed to be sent to a mental institute," she began. "I cut my wrist. I tried to kill myself. I hope Abby and Claire explained all of that to you?"
"To some extent," Delia replied.
"But I changed," Vanessa went on. "When Claire saved me from jumping off the observation tower that day, I changed." She took a deep breath and looked at her mother's nonchalant face. Delia could have been listening to her daughter describe her latest pedicure and not looked any different. But Vanessa kept talking. "I used to think the world hated me. But Claire proved to me that there was at least one person out there who cared. And then I met more. Claire's friend, Massie, became my friend, too."
Suddenly Vanessa remembered how Massie and Claire had told her about trying to get Abby to convince her parents, and realized that she had forgotten that and she had been stupid to be skeptical of Abby. If she hadn't changed, she was doing a very good job of acting like she was. And even though Abby Boyd was an actress, Vanessa had a gut feeling that Abby's recent good deeds were genuine.
"And Abby," Vanessa said, boring into her mother with her violet eyes. "Abby's proven to me that she cares, too."
But Delia's face stayed impassive. "So you have people who care for you. How does this relate to not needing rehab?"
Vanessa felt a tinge of despondency inside her. "I have people who care for me," she reiterated. "Don't you get it? I don't hate the world anymore. I don't want to kill myself; I don't even want to cut myself anymore." She held up her arms, showing her mother the thin white scars on her wrists. But there were no scabs. In truth, Vanessa hadn't cut herself a single time since Claire had saved her on the observation tower.
"Okay, so you changed," Delia said. "That doesn't mean you can't change back. They always say that people who attempt suicide are liable to attempt it again." Her voice was unemotional as she stated the fact.
"Mom, I am not going to try to kill myself again! I promise you!" Vanessa said this with every ounce of sincerity in her. She was feeling strangely desperate, like she had to convince her mother now. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her mother's face blurred in her vision.
But Delia Boyd was not convinced. "How do I know you'll keep that promise?" she spat, suddenly angry.
Vanessa felt the tears overflow and stream down her face. "You have to trust me!" She glared into her mother's dark eyes. "I learned to trust, Mother, but if you can't—" Vanessa half-choked on the words she knew she had to say. "—If you can't, you're worse than I am!"
Delia Boyd looked as if she had been struck across the face. And in a way, she had.
Vanessa's tears blazed hot trails on her cheeks and blurred her vision, but she didn't let her gaze falter. She repeated her words in a whisper. "If you can't learn to trust, you're worse than I am."
Suddenly Delia Boyd crumpled. "Oh, god," she murmured, the realization bringing tears to her eyes.
Vanessa put her hand on her mother's shoulder. She was silent for an interminable moment as her mother' face became just as tear-streaked as her own. Finally, she whispered, "Mom, please trust me."
Delia's voice trembled, but she kept her eyes on Vanessa's. "Okay."
If this were a sappy family drama, Vanessa thought, Mom would hug me and we'd totally make up.
But it wasn't a sappy family drama, and the two of them stood there with the California sun beating down on them until a man stopped his car outside the door and got out, giving them a quizzical look.
As the man let himself in the institute, still staring at them as if they were a freak show, Delia laughed. "He thinks we're crazy," she said.
"Maybe we are," Vanessa replied. And she couldn't help but crack a smile.