Perfect Girl
A/N: Random, totally random. Not even sure if I like it yet, or if it even flows or makes sense. I'd love some comments for this especially. Be honest, I can take it, I promise. (By the way, the title is a Sarah McLachlan song on her CD Afterglow)
I had spent countless nights on the phone with her as she sobbed; trying to tell her that everything would be okay. I repeated those lies to her every single night. I knew things had been altered forever. There was no way things were going to be okay. At first, I had believed it. At first, it didn't seem real. It's funny how hard reality canhit sometimes. It's shaking. It's scary.
It must have been something in the way she cried; in the way she incorporated him into our everyday conversation that made me think twice about him. I was supposed to be her rock. She expected me to say comforting things and hug her whenever the tears started to pour. But as I held her, I wasn't thinking about her feelings. I was thinking about mine. I realized that he wasn't just her boyfriend or my ex-boyfriend's best friend. He was someone special. Someone very special.
And as Hazel buried her face in my shoulder and told me how worried she was, I would paint on that bright smile and whisper the words I knew she wanted to hear. Don't cry, Hazel, things will work out. I'm sure of it.
But was I? Of course not. I was supposed to be, though. I had the answers to everything, right? I was the queen of drama. I'd lived for it, been through it, and survived through it. My pretty pink purse wasn't there just for show. It held secrets, it held pain, and it held everything that made me who I am, even if it did include a tube of pink lipstick and a powder compact here and there. So how was this any different? I'd get through all of this just like I did in grade nine, just like I always have.
You'd think I'd be sympathizing for my best friend as she desperately tried to stop the tears. I wasn't, though. All I could think about what how much things were changing and how much wrong I had ever done. There was a fine line between life and death, and it was possibly Jimmy could cross that line. It made us stop in our tracks. It made us realize just how valuable time was.
And as Hazel drowned herself in helpless cries, I drowned myself by playing Santa. Giving and giving and giving. Giving everyone the support they needed, while everyone assumed I was Barbie. Perfect and so put together. So I'd sit and pat Hazel's back, I'd hug Ashley until she turned blue and I'd give Emma and Sean my sincerest sympathies, but all of it reminded me of how much I was suffering. How I should be the one showered in hugs and apologies. He was my friend too.
I had started going to group therapy with Hazel and some of our other friends. It helped some. Ms. Suave told me if anything, I needed to give hope, instead of trying to save everyone.
What did she know? One of the best people I knew was lying in a hospital bed, injured, at the risk of not waking up to see another day. It's not something you can get over. I could get over a soda stain on a new skirt. I couldn't get over this.
And why, why him? The most precious, truly beautiful person that I knew. No one would understand, but he held a special place in my heart. A place not even Spinner could have fulfilled. He was amazing and I don't think Hazel could even appreciate him to the extent I did. That sounded selfish. After all, Hazel had the most special position to begin with. His girlfriend. She knew about the shooting before I did. She knew it all before me. She had visited him plenty of times since the tragic day. I had stopped by once, maybe twice. Hazel had offered to take me by the hospital numerous times, but I declined every single invitation.
It hurts to see people you love lying in a smelly hospital room in a smelly hospital bed, even if they are watching the TV and eating like they do it every day.
It wasn't fair. Once was enough, with Terri, and now he wanted to fuck us all up again. I thought it was going to be okay, too. I really thought it was going to be okay.
But when someone screws you over again, and again you can't forget. You just can't forget. I hadn't gotten much sleep over the past weeks. Every time I tried to close my eyes, images of guns, the look that must have marred Jimmy's face when Rick aimed at him…
It was inevitable to go to bed at night and expect a refreshed awakening.
It was too much. Way, way, way too much. What if it had been me? He had talked to me so soon before he fired the first shot, hadn't he? It could have been me just as easily as it had been Jimmy. I often wondered what it'd be like if I had gotten shot instead. If we'd both been shot. It made me want to throw up. Would I rather it had been me than Jimmy?
The questions whirl around my head. It's like losing your voice. You try so hard to speak like you normally would, but your voice just ends up raspy and dysfunctional. I had tried so hard to answer all the questions I had, that I just ended up with a headache and more bad dreams. Barely there.
My heart literally hurt. Hazel could hardly make it through a full day of school, and I'd run after her to the washroom after she excused herself, and she'd tell me how hard it was, as if I wasn't going through what she was.
I was. If anything, it hit me harder than it would ever hit her. But I learned to control it. I'm expected to be a certain way. Right?
That didn't mean I didn't go home every afternoon and slam my head against my bedroom door, and look at Jimmy's face in my picture frame and resist the urge to cry. I had done enough crying. Too much crying. And it wasn't getting me anywhere. It didn't make Jimmy heal any sooner, it didn't make Hazel stop crying, and it didn't make me hate Rick any less. Hazel was taking it in, though. She needed to be comforted.
I didn't, right? I was way past that stage. I had counseling. That would sure help me. I had my family. They had always been a great support system. Hazel didn't have to comfort me, Ash didn't have to comfort me, no one did. No one wanted to, anyways. They should admire how well I have accepted this, shouldn't they?
I was astonished at myself. I was living one, huge lie on the outside. I was lying to myself to make myself feel better on the inside.
A sudden urge came over me to grab my keys and drive to the hospital. I needed to know Jimmy was still there. I needed to know that he was still breathing. I needed to know that he was still my Jimmy. Part of me demanded that I call Hazel and bring her along. I blocked that part of me out. I dug through my pretty pink purse and found the keys. Just another accessory that made up Paige Michalchuk. I ran out the door, forgetting Hazel, forgetting Rick, forgetting the tragedy. I needed to see Jimmy. I needed comfort.