Very very sorry I keep taking so long. I've been far from motivated to write something like this lately... I apologize a thousand times. Thank you so so much for sticking with me.
It's Friday and I'm really not sure how I feel anymore. Am I sad? Am I angry? Or am I just nothing? I know that it's unusual to be this way for so long but I don't know how to stop and I really don't care anymore if I ever do.
I was like this for a long time when I was younger, and I know that's why my parents are supposedly so worried. They want me to talk to someone once or twice and solve all my problems sitting on a tiny couch in a cute little office that smells like clean linen candles so that they won't have to fight over who gets to pay for the medication this time when talking doesn't give them the outcome they're looking for.
I spent a lot of my life unhappy, but the past few years I've been as far away from that as I've ever been. There were enough distractions around to stop me from thinking about anything, but now I've pushed all of those things out of my life, and there's nothing left to do.
School goes by too quickly. For the first time in weeks, I actually want to be at Hollywood Arts. Public school was never really a legitimate option when mom and dad threatened me with it. My parents would rather not put any effort into changing schools, and they'd already called the therapist anyway. It's the last place that I want to go today. I want to go hide in the library until tomorrow but it's all the way across the school and my dad is waiting for me by my locker the second I leave class. He doesn't look any happier than I do, but he forces me into his car and drives me across town to a giant brick building in an empty neighborhood anyway. He leaves me at the door and I could run away if I wanted to, but he'd find out eventually. She can't make me talk, so I might as well waste an hour on a doctor's couch instead of wandering around this shitty neighborhood. At least this way I won't get yelled at.
The doctor's office is on the third floor and of course, dad didn't bother to help me get there, so I wander through the ground floor trying to find an elevator, only to find that there isn't one. There's a gigantic staircase wide enough to fit ten people shoulder to shoulder along the side of the building and I climb it, wondering what original use this building could have possibly had that would require a staircase this big. Once I reach the third floor the hallways are strangely narrow. Most of the lights are burnt out and the whole floor looks like a much better place to get raped than get your head shrunk.
At the end of the hallway there's a door with a laminated piece of paper on it in place of an actual sign. That's incredibly reassuring. On the other side there are a few children playing with some bacteria infested toys on the ground, and I'm sure I must be in the wrong place, but then an incredibly large blonde woman behind a desk looks up at me and asks,
"You Jade?" I nod and stare at the children a little while longer. One has a chin covered in drool, another has an orange stain on his shirt that I can't identify, and the third child is staring blankly into space with his gooey mouth open. Kids are gross.
"Take a seat, she'll be with you in a minute." The receptionist's words barely register with me and I don't take her advice. A moment later, a slim brunette woman wearing khaki pants and a blood red shirt steps into the waiting area and motions to me without saying a word. I follow her into a tiny dark room with a large wooden desk, a metal folding chair, and a small orange couch stuffed inside. There's one small window in the room with a perfect view of the AutoZone across the street.
"Sorry about my office. I just moved here from Minnesota. New kid gets the crappy room." She smiles at me and urges me to sit down. I do as she says, mostly because I'm curious what kind of unusual fabric the couch is upholstered with. It looks like some kind of velvet, but it's softer than that.
"I'm Doctor Matthews, but you can call me Lauren. You can call me anything, really, if it makes you feel better." She looks uncomfortable when I don't say anything. "Jade, right? I love that name. I always thought that if I ever had a daughter of my own, I might name her Jade." She pauses again. It's kind of fun to watch her feel so awkward, but I pity her a little bit. I wouldn't want her job. I wouldn't want to deal with people like me.
"I know that nobody really wants to talk about their problems with a stranger, so I guess maybe I'll tell you about myself. I grew up just outside of Minneapolis. I have two brothers, and I had an older sister who passed away the year I was born. I went to college in Milwaukee, where I met my husband Nathan. We just got married last March. He's in the movie business... Mostly documentaries that nobody's ever seen, but he's getting there... I guess that's all I can really think of to tell you. Do you have any questions?" I shake my head. We're both silent for a moment. I study the picture frames and books covering her desk, but I can't tell from them what kind of person Lauren is.
"I, umm... I see this isn't your first time visiting a therapist." She studies the papers in front of her but doesn't seem too surprised.
"I had an abusive babysitter when I was a child. My parents thought it affected me more than it did. They had trouble accepting that I'm not psychologically disturbed and this is just how I am."
"Five therapists before the age of thirteen. That's a lot."
"My parents were looking for an answer they couldn't get from the first four. The fifth one gave me pills so they finally stopped."
"Did the pills help you?"
"No." I answer, and now I realize how much I've told her already. I didn't intend to speak at all, but it's too late now. "They kind of made me want to kill myself."
"That happens a lot with teenagers, unfortunately. The-"
"The hormones. I know." She nods uncomfortably. "It was a long time ago. I was fine." She changes the subject.
"So...tell me why your parents think you need to be here." I clam up all of a sudden and it's not even intentional. She stares at me for a moment and I open my mouth, but my mouth is dry.
"I, umm..." I cough and she reaches below her desk, pulling a water bottle out of a small mini-fridge. It's Aquafina, which I hate because it tastes like crap and water isn't even supposed to have a taste, but I drink some of it anyway to sooth my throat. "My...uhh...best friend, I guess... died in a car accident about a month ago. My...well I guess my parents are probably right, sending me here, but...I mean, I can psychoanalyze myself. I know that I feel guilty, like it's my fault, but I also know that it isn't. And I know that I feel that way because I treated her badly toward the end and I never had the chance to apologize. I know that there's nothing I could have done to change it, but that doesn't stop me from feeling this way."
"It's okay to feel like that, but it doesn't mean that I can't help you. Sometimes if you just talk about something long enough, you'll find that you have a lot more to say than you thought you did." She glances at her watch and smiles at me. "I don't think that there's anything wrong with you. I know as well as anyone how some people can't accept that others are just born different. I do think that you could feel a lot better if you talked about what you're feeling right now to someone who is on the outside. If you do choose to come back next time, we can plan on talking about your friend. Think of some things you loved about her, some things you didn't...anything, really. I'd love to hear all about her." I don't know if she's wanting me to write a big list of Tori things and bring it to her next time, but if I really had a choice there wouldn't be a next time. I'll be talking less next week.
"Now what do you say we get out of here a little early? If anyone asks, we both stayed until 4." I glance at the clock on her desk. It's only 3:40. "Hopefully I'll see you next week."
…
It's Saturday and I wake up to the noise of rain on my window. I think about showering but it sounds like too much effort, so I go downstairs instead. Mom's gone, and Dad finally went back to his own house, though he'll probably be back to lecture me some more later.
I look at the date on my phone and it suddenly hits me, what today is. I don't know how I feel about it. I guess it still hasn't really sunk in.
The doorbell rings and I walk toward the front door, hoping it isn't Dad, because he's the last person I want to see right now, but the only person who would have any reason to visit me. I pull it open and a small bouquet of roses are right in front of me. Beck is standing there with a hopeless look on his face, and he says to me,
"I know you probably don't want to see me right now, but I didn't want you to be alone." I stare at the flowers a little longer and I start to cry, letting myself fall into his arms, crushing the roses as I hold onto him, sobbing because we were supposed to be a family today.
…
It was a Thursday when it happened. I was sitting in class with my feet propped up on Tori's lap because, already, they were starting to hurt. I only had nearly six months to go and my feet felt like they were about to explode. She was messing with my laces, and I wouldn't have put it past her to tie them together, though she didn't.
Beck hadn't come to school that day. He had an audition somewhere and was due back before sixth period, though it was hardly worth it. We weren't getting along at the time - we'd gotten into a fight the day before and he saw no reason to apologize, so I had refused to speak to him for a full twenty-four hours. I could have gone much longer. I knew he would give in eventually. He had no choice.
Sikowitz was rambling on and on about some coconut vision he'd had and most of us weren't really listening. The morning sickness had already stopped and I'd gone weeks without throwing up, but that morning I'd woken up with a stomachache and had almost broken that streak. As I sat in Sikowitz's classroom, I started to feel sicker. My sides hurt more than my stomach ached, but everything on my body hurt every once in a while, back then. Eventually it got to be too much, so I left to use the restroom, barely getting there before I felt something start to trickle down my leg. I stopped in the hallway, right outside the girl's room door, and reached beneath my skirt, running a finger along my thigh that came back covered in a red liquid I didn't realize was blood until the thought slithered into my brain a moment later.
I stood there in the hallway for a minute with my eyes wide and my mouth hanging open. I could hardly move, let alone do anything about it. I was not supposed to be bleeding. Something was seriously wrong, but I couldn't really comprehend it until I made my way back to Sikowitz's room, with my stomach killing me. I bent down beside Tori and whispered in her ear, but by that point I'd started crying from fear, and she couldn't understand me.
"What?" I nearly choked on the air I couldn't get into my lungs, and she started at me with a shocked look on her face when she realized how distraught I was.
"I'm bleeding," I told her, "get me to a fucking hospital."
"Uh, Sikowitz!" She shouted, standing up and wrapping her arms around me. She said something to him but I couldn't understand her. I just sobbed into Tori's shirt while she held onto me. I don't know if it was because I was bleeding or because I was panicking, but my head was spinning and I could hardly stand, even with Tori's help.
She steered me outside into someone's car - I don't even know who drove me to the hospital. I was too busy crying in the back seat while my sides cramped up, with Tori holding me in her arms, petting my hair while she whispered to me like I was a child.
"It'll be okay, you're gonna be fine, shh, baby you'll be alright, we're almost there, I'm right here, you'll be okay, breathe, take a deep breath, calm down." An endless string of soothing words streamed out of her mouth, but all she could do was hold onto me until we got to the emergency room.
"No." I groaned, still in disbelief. It never really made sense to me, even after we got to the hospital. All I knew is that I hurt and I was bleeding and panicking to the point that I nearly passed out. The only person I had was Tori, and she couldn't even stay with me the whole time. The ER nurses forced her to stay in the waiting room while they wheeled me away, and I could hardly breathe. I started hyperventilating and black specks blocked my vision, eventually fading into complete darkness for a moment, before I was in a white bed in a tiny, sterile room. Beck was sitting beside me, with my hand in his, and he was crying. He was legitimately crying. It took a lot to make Beck cry - hell, it took a lot to make him smile - and I'd only ever seen him do it a couple of times.
He reached out to brush my hair out of my face as I tried to sit up. He shook his head, demanding I lay back down, and then he climbed up into the tiny bed with me. Beck wrapped his arms around my aching body and kissed the top of my head four times before he said anything.
"We lost her," he said.
"What?" I understood him the first time, but it took hearing the words again before I could really accept it.
"The baby...it would've been a girl. We lost her. You miscarried." I couldn't do anything but cry, and for the rest of the night, that was all I did. I laid in that bed beside my boyfriend, sobbing into his shirt while he held back tears himself. My parents came, but Dad had to leave for something work related after an hour, and mom left when visiting hours ended at 9. The nurses pitied Beck, so they let him stay with me until the morning. He said that Tori had sat in the waiting room while I'd been in surgery, but because she wasn't family or the father, they wouldn't let her back to see me, so she'd left an hour before I woke up.
I remember at the time I was angry that she didn't stay. I know that if she'd waited until they let her back, I probably wouldn't have said a single word to her, but I wanted her there and she wasn't there. Never mind that she'd dropped everything and taken me to the hospital without questioning it. She was my best friend and when I woke up and I was upset and I was hurting and I was mourning she wasn't there.