Chapter 26

Spike's Story

Spike's Story

Spike--16

Xander--15

Drusilla--14

Sweet sixteen. I had always been told that is the best year ever. For right now all the things I've heard are true. I just started driving and it is so awesome. I live in my house with my best friend/brother and my little sister. We're all only 1 year apart and inseparable. The trio, the Three Musketeers, or as Xander's says 'The Three Amigos'. Yep, everything was absolutely perfect. Or so I thought.

"Come on Xand! Come on Dru! It's time to go to baseball practice!" I screamed up the stairs. Xander and I had been playing baseball together since we were 10. Since Drusilla wanted to do everything we did when we were young, mom signed her up too. So she had been playing just about as long as Xander and I. Xander came down the stairs with his bat and glove.

"Where's our better third?" he joked.

"I don't know. I better go look for her," I sighed and started up the stairs. Dru was always late. The bathroom door was closed.

"Hurry up Drusilla!" I cried pounding on the door.

"Leave me alone!" she yelled back. She sounded like she was crying.

"Dru what's the matter?" I asked concerned. I jiggled the door handle. It was locked tight. A few minutes later she came out in a baggy sweatshirt over her jeans.

"Why is everything I do any of your business?" she cried pushing me over.

"I worry about you Dru. You've been acting really weird lately," I said following her downstairs. Xander was already waiting for us in the car.

"Don't worry about it okay?" she smiled gently and climbed into the backseat.

"Fine," I whispered. It was better not to argue with her.

"What was up with you tonight Dru? You struck out like 4 times," Xander said as we climbed into the car. Drusilla had played pretty awful tonight but she was usually a star player. She was our MVP last year. Drusilla's eyes were droopy and she had pulled her hat down so it covered them. She kept pulling the sleeves of the sweatshirt lower and lower over her arms like she had something to hide. She wasn't snapping back at any of our banter.

We pulled up into the driveway and Xander was quick to rush into the kitchen for a raid of the fridge. If Dru and I were lucky we could get something without getting our fingers bitten off. I stopped her before we went into the house.

"It's that stupid sweatshirt Dru. It gets in the way when you're up to bat and if you're lucky enough to actually hit the ball it slows you down when you're running bases. What's up with it anyway? Its 95 degrees out here," I said reaching for her arm. She was quick to jerk away. The whole time she looked at the ground not making any attempt to acknowledge me.

"Fine Drusilla," I rolled my eyes and went inside.

That night I was in the room I shared with Xander. He was up on the top of our bunk bed.

"Hey Spike. I bet you don't have a Jonzy Crazer rookie card," he commented.

"No Xand. I bet I don't," I agreed wringing my hands together. He jerked his head over the side of the bed.

"Did you just agree with me?"

"Xander, I think there's something wrong with Drusilla," I said watching him descend down the wooden ladder.

"What could be wrong with her? She's fine," he said flopping down on my bed.

"She's not fine! Did you see her play tonight?" I asked turning around in our desk chair.

"So the girl had a rusty night. Big deal it's not like tonight counted or anything. It was just practice," he said picking up his baseball from the side of the bed and tossing it into the air. Realizing I wasn't going to get Xander to agree with me I went to go say goodnight to Drusilla. I knocked on her door. When she didn't answer I let myself in. Her bat and glove lay on the floor next to her bed but there was no sight of her. The door to her bathroom was closed. This time not knocking I let myself into the bathroom.

"Drusilla?" I gasped at what I saw. Drusilla was sitting on top of the toilet cutting chunks of skin off of her arms with a razor blade.

"Drusilla!" I cried prying it away from her. "What the hell is the matter with you?" She started crying then looked up at me with pleading eyes.

"Spike," she whispered.

"Please help me."

"Oh my god. Did you get her some help?" Willow asked.

"Yeah. Dad found this really good psychiatrist that talked to her and help her get over her problem," Spike said.

"They called her a 'cutter' or a 'self mutilator'. It was mostly our faults for not watching out for the warning signs. She was showing all of them," Xander replied fishing around in his bag.

"What in the world are you looking for?" Fred asked.

"This," Xander smiled and pulled out a baseball.