Chapter Twenty-Two: Shattered Dreams
"How could I be so stupid?" Manny whispered to herself as she drew closer to her home. It was dark outside and had started raining fifteen minutes ago. She hugged herself as she walked, her thoughts finally becoming more organized. "How could I think that? Oh god, oh god."
She stared up at her house, no longer afraid of her mother, her father, Viviana, any of it. There was nothing else that mattered. She had ruined her chances with Theresa. No, she never had a chance with Theresa. The whole time, she was just fooling herself. Just allowing herself to be caught in a new friendship when she was so confused, so lost. Allowed herself to believe it could ever be anything more because she needed something solid, some validation that she was right, and everything would be alright. She made Theresa perfect, something she so obviously wasn't, because she needed someone to hold on to.
Her tears were stinging her face, making it wetter than the rain could ever hope to. Violent sobs racked her body, and she fell to the ground.
"Oh god," she sobbed. "God!"
Manny sat there, crying, as the rain grew harder and harder, as if sympathetic to her plea.
The lights eventually went out, and Manny laid there for another half hour, feeling sorry for herself.
Theresa never came to her house, as was her secret hope, and Manny stood up and walked inside, carefully, oh-so carefully. She didn't want to wake her parents, whom she prayed were asleep.
Manny walked straight into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Dark circles had formed under her eyes—whether from crying her mascara out or from crying in general, she didn't know. She stared at herself and felt hate, overwhelming hate. She wanted to destroy the girl in the mirror, wanted to grab her and pull her out and let all her fury be unleashed upon this stranger who wore her face.
Manny opened a drawer and grabbed a pair of scissors. Initially about to slice into her arm yet again, she stopped. She looked into that face, that horrible face, the face that tormented her, mocked her, stole her identity.
Manny looked at the girl that made the first move. On Craig, on Theresa, on everyone. The stupid little slut who had the delusion anyone could love her.
Of course she couldn't have Theresa. Theresa was beyond her.
Of course her life had gone to hell. She deserved nothing more than to forever be in misery. She will never have her, never have the one girl she wants. She would never obtain the dream. Her Dream Girl, well, she was just a dream. A fucking illusion. Manny didn't deserve any semblance of happiness. She understood that now.
She raised the scissors from her arm, up to her shoulders. She grabbed a chunk of her curly black hair, and began hacking it off.