Chrissy sat in her bedroom for the rest of the afternoon. She cried into her pillow silently. Michelle had tried to console her but Chrissy insisted she wanted to be alone.
"Chrissy, you shouldn't be alone right now. I'm here for you; please talk to me." Michelle had said, but Chrissy couldn't. She needed time to herself.
Snuffy lay quietly on the edge of Chrissy's bed, sleeping soundly, as Chrissy stood up and stared out of her large bayside window. She began having memories of her mother. She remembered all the times her mother would go out late at night to get drunk and leave Chrissy alone. She remembered all the times her mother would get angry and hit Chrissy, or throw her around. She remembered all the hurtful words her mother shot at her, and as the young girl relived these horrible experiences, more tears fell from her eyes. I can't go back there, I can't! The pain was unbearable. As Chrissy went back to her bed and sat down, she felt a familiar feeling inside of her. A feeling she always felt when she couldn't deal with the pain. A feeling she had resisted for a little over a year. Chrissy's urge to cut herself was stronger than ever that day, and though she had promised Michelle to tell her whenever she felt this way, she couldn't bring herself to run to Michelle. She knew if she went to tell Michelle about the urge, Michelle would try to talk her out of it. Chrissy no longer had the desire to continue down this road of recovery. The pain was too much for her to deal with. Why should I care? Who cares if I cut myself? My life is over anyway. Nothing will ever be good for me. Chrissy thought as she quietly walked out of her bedroom and made her way to the bathroom down the hall. She could hear Michelle walking around downstairs, so she quietly opened the cupboard drawer next to the bathroom sink. Chrissy shuffled through the pile of junk in the drawer until she finally reached what she was looking for. A razor blade. She ran back to her bedroom and closed her door quietly. As she sat on her bed, she ripped off the plastic until the small blade fell into her lap. Chrissy felt a cold feeling rush through her as she stared at the sharp object she now held. There was no turning back now, she thought. With the awful images of her mother beating her up dancing in her mind, she placed the sharp object against her pale skin.
Michelle served up dinner and called Chrissy down once the table was set. She had managed to wipe away the last of her tears so Chrissy wouldn't see them. She felt sad that Chrissy didn't want to talk to her about all of this, but understood she needed space to understand just what was happening. Michelle was still trying to get her head around it herself. She had spent most of the afternoon praying to God; praying for some way to get out of this awful situation. I can't lose her. I love her, Father. I don't want her to leave, and I especially don't want her going back to Jessica. That woman has hurt that little girl far too much and I don't want to sit around and let it happen again. She had prayed as tears had run down her cheek.
Michelle watched as Chrissy entered the dining room. Michelle observed her foster daughter and noticed her red nose and the black circles under her eyes and knew she hadn't been the only one who had spent the afternoon crying.
"Hi sweetie." Michelle greeted quietly. Chrissy barely looked up as she sat down at the table. Michelle sighed and joined her, saying a quick grace for their dinner. Neither ate much of what was in front of them. Each had so many painful thoughts running through their minds. Michelle was so distracted; she didn't even notice that Chrissy had changed from her T-shirt into a long-sleeved sweater, even though it was 75 degrees outside. Chrissy hoped Michelle wouldn't notice and was glad she didn't say anything about it. Little did she know that someone else had noticed. Monica was watching, unseen by the two eating dinner.
"Tess, when I was with Chrissy earlier, she was wearing a T-shirt, and now she isn't. Has she-" Monica couldn't bring herself to imagine that Chrissy had gone back to her old habits. It hurt her to even remember all of the scars that resided on the young girl's arms a year ago. Tess, who had been with her all along sighed and shook her head.
"I don't know angel girl. I know she's feeling a lot of pain right now and I know what sorts of things she used to do when she felt that much pain, but she said she hasn't since the last time you were here." Tess said.
"Yes, but the last year has been great for Chrissy. I even saw her arms. She hasn't been cutting herself. She's been really happy. What is this going to do to her?" Monica asked.
"Chrissy is your assignment baby, not mine. I can't figure out everything for you. There are things you have to do on your own." Tess replied and left Monica alone, watching the family eating dinner. Oh Father, I just pray this family will not get separated from each other. Please be present in their lives and please use me for Your purposes here. Monica prayed silently as she stared at the long sleeves covering Chrissy's arms. And please be with little Chrissy. Help her in every way. She really needs You.
