Chapter Nine: Rekindled
Chrissy was scribbling in her History binder during second period at school the next day. Though her doodles were filled with bright colors and rainbows, she did not feel the least bit happy. She found she could not stop thinking about her mother, and how different she seemed from the woman Chrissy remembered. Seeing her for the first time in over a year had been a big shock, and Chrissy still couldn't believe how respectable her mother appeared to be. It was fake; it had to be. There's no way she could have changed. Chrissy sighed, feeling guilty for thinking so angrily and bitterly about her mother, but her memories still reflected the abusive woman her mother had once been.
Her thoughts drifted to the house Jessica had talked about. A house she had just purchased in Canada, wanting to start fresh, just the two of them. Not only do they want me to go back to my mother, but they want me to go to another country? I'd never see Michelle again. Chrissy could not allow herself to think about that, it hurt too much.
She couldn't believe the hearing was scheduled for the next morning. Every moment that passed brought Chrissy closer and closer to tears, and the tension inside of her increased greatly. She could barely keep herself focused on her teacher, who was teaching the class about the Cold War. Chrissy, however, did not retain a single word her teacher was saying. She continued to doodle, desperately trying to distract herself from the tempting blade hidden in her backpack.
Chrissy could feel Brandi's eyes on her throughout the class, but Chrissy never turned her head. She knew Brandi was worried about her, but Chrissy knew if she started talking to Brandi, she would have to confront the fact she was cutting herself again, and she wasn't ready for that. She didn't want to be told not to cut herself anymore; she still needed it.
Chrissy vaguely heard the bell ring for lunch and she grabbed her bag quickly as the class began to scramble toward the cafeteria. Brandi stayed behind, walking slowly, as though hoping Chrissy would catch up and talk to her.
"Chrissy, may I see you for a moment, please?" Ms. Rufus, the History teacher called as Chrissy stood from her desk. Chrissy sighed and watched as a disappointed Brandi left the room.
Chrissy stood in front of her teacher's desk, staring at the floor nervously. Does she know? Chrissy wondered anxiously.
"Chrissy, I just wanted to know how you've been doing. Is everything alright?" Ms. Rufus asked, as she rested her chin on her hand.
"I'm fine." Chrissy lied, wanting so badly to get out of there. Wanting so badly to take out the razor blade. Ms. Rufus didn't look convinced as her eyes pierced through Chrissy, making her feel guilty for lying, but she stood her ground.
"Really, I'm fine. I'm just hungry." Chrissy said, feeling herself shaking. Ms. Rufus placed her hands gently on her desk with a sigh.
"Okay, but listen, if you ever need somebody to talk to-"
"Thanks." Chrissy left the classroom in a rush, heading straight to the girls' bathroom.
She breathed out slowly as she placed the blade on her scarred wrist, dragging it quickly across her skin, closing her eyes, blocking out the pain just like she had trained herself to do. She mechanically ran the sharp edge over her wrist over and over again, feeling so numb with pain, she failed to notice the amount of blood she was spilling. Her head was buzzing and when she opened her eyes, her vision was blurred. She took deep breaths as she already felt the tension alleviating. Something was wrong, though.
As she went to put her blade away, she noticed a very small puddle of blood on the bathroom floor, and her heart leapt into her throat. She quickly gazed at her wrist and quietly gasped. She had cut very deeply, without even realizing it, and blood was dripping down her arm, onto the floor. Chrissy suddenly felt sick, as the color rapidly drained from her face. She could feel her head spinning suddenly, and she nearly lost her balance.
She peered quickly out of the bathroom stall and saw the girls' bathroom was deserted. She was all alone. She quickly left her stall, running to the sink, and feeling herself growing hot. She turned on the cold water, thinking if she splashed some water on her face, she may feel better, but it was too late.
As the water continued to run, Chrissy saw everything go black as she fell to the floor, passing out.
"Yes and then she must have passed out. I think you should come right away." Chrissy heard a faint voice when she woke up. Her whole body was in a cold sweat as she took deep breaths and observed her surroundings. She looked up and saw a bright light, and she was surrounded by white walls, with shelves of medicine bottles and bandages. She knew she was in the nurse's office.
"No there's no fever." Chrissy peered out the door and saw Anna-Maria, the nurse, in the next room talking into the telephone. Chrissy sighed angrily as she knew Anna-Maria was talking to Michelle. Great. Chrissy thought bitterly as she managed to sit up a bit, leaning against the pillow that was behind her. She noticed her blue sweater on the edge of the bed, and she instinctively looked to her arms, which were completely exposed and bare. Her freshly cut wrist was bandaged up in gauze, and as Chrissy scrambled to pull her sweater on, she noticed a bright light in the room, and there was Monica, sitting on the edge of her bed.
"Hello little one." Monica greeted with a smile. Chrissy zipped up her sweater as she stared at Monica with wide eyes, filled with tears.
"What happened?" She asked innocently, feeling somewhat scared. What have I done? She thought.
"You fainted in the bathroom. Your friend Brandi came looking for you and she found you unconscious, and she got the nurse. They brought you here and Brandi went to her class. The nurse took your sweater off to cool you down, because you were really hot, and that's when she saw your cuts. So she wrapped it for you." Monica explained as the young girl nodded slowly. Her wrist was throbbing from pain as she took a deep breath, feeling herself getting stronger.
"Why did I faint? Was I hungry or something?" She wondered out loud. Monica already knew the answer and she also knew Chrissy would not like to hear it, but she felt that it was greatly important.
"Sweetheart, you cut yourself too deep. That's why you fainted." She explained and Chrissy's eyes widened with fear as she remembered all the blood coming from her cuts. Oh my gosh, I didn't even feel it. Chrissy heard footsteps coming from the next room and Monica had already disappeared. Anna-Maria came into the room, never looking Chrissy in the eyes at all. She had always been a grumpy old nurse, Chrissy thought, never really caring about the students. Anna-Maria simply grabbed Chrissy's un-bandaged wrist to check her pulse. She never said a word as she glared at her watch, pinching Chrissy's wrist between her fingers and thumb. Chrissy stared at the wall as Anna-Maria let go and began to leave the room. She turned to look at the troubled teen.
"Don't ever do that again. It's dangerous. I called your foster mom, she's on her way. Don't move." The nurse left the room, leaving the door open slightly. Chrissy could not contain her tears anymore. As they spilled over, she held her bandaged wrist gently, feeling her own fear overwhelming her. She had gone too deep, she had scared herself. What if I had gone deeper? Would I have died? Chrissy couldn't bear thinking about it, but she realized in that moment how dangerous a habit it really was.
Chrissy was leaning against the pillow, feeling better when she heard voices outside the room. She tilted her head and saw Anna-Maria talking to somebody, but she couldn't make out who it was. She could hear them talking though.
"Thank you for coming." Anna-Maria said in her usual grumpy voice.
"Well thanks for calling me." Chrissy recognized the voice as Michelle's immediately, and she felt her heart racing as she sat up on the bed, twiddling her thumbs nervously.
"Is she okay?" Michelle asked, and Chrissy noticed her voice sounded a little scared and Chrissy felt guilty.
"She's fine, but I think I'll let her go home for the rest of the day. Maybe you should talk to her. I think there's something wrong with her." Anna-Maria said as she pointed to the room where Chrissy was sitting cross-legged on the bed, with a few tears in her eyes.
Michelle entered the room slowly and cautiously, looking at Chrissy with a genuine concern. Chrissy couldn't bring herself to look at Michelle; she felt embarrassed and afraid. She sat on the bed, hugging her knees tightly, sniffling silently as Michelle quietly approached the young girl. Michelle sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at Chrissy with misty eyes. She said nothing for a few moments; she just watched as Chrissy tried to hide her tears. Finally, after a short silence, Michelle spoke in a familiar comforting voice.
"Are you okay?" She asked gently. Chrissy, still looking at the wall, and feeling more tears welling up, nodded her head slowly. She sniffled and wiped her tears on her sleeve. Michelle nodded and stood up.
"Alright," She said. "Let's go home."
Monica sat on the roof of Chrissy's high school, watching as Michelle and Chrissy finally emerged from the school. The two walked side by side, Chrissy with her head down, Michelle looking over at her foster daughter every few seconds to see if she was okay. As they walked toward the car parked at the edge of the parking lot, Michelle hesitantly put her arm around Chrissy's shoulders, wanting nothing more than to comfort the young girl. Monica waited, afraid Chrissy would pull away, or ignore it, but she was surprised when Chrissy, after a few seconds, finally rested her head on Michelle's shoulder and Michelle looked over and smiled. She squeezed her tighter as they approached the car, and Monica smiled over the two, and then smiled toward Heaven.
