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Theme Twelve: I feel fine.
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Author's Quick Note: Yes, it repeats on the original theme list. Most people only do seven, not all fourteen, so this ended up repeating itself in my fic. But at least Emily got it this time around.
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I'm back.
This is where I was hurt. This is where Wayne broke. This is where bribes were taken, people were stepped on, and crime went unsolved and rampant. This is where my life spiraled out of control and turned from a sweet dream to a wicked nightmare. The halls aren't as dirty as I remember them, the people aren't running scared, but the way my footsteps echo and the eyes trained on me are familiar. I never forgot this place, and the people here never forgot me.
They know I'm the one who broke hardest. They know the old Patrol Sheriff hurt me and that I left because that was the last straw. They know bits and pieces of the truth. Kooter tells me my eyes are different, like someone painted them over with ice. My old desk was kept just like I had it. It should have felt the same as before, Kooter in my face, Wayne at my side, in my old school, living with my parents again instead of my grandparents. It should have felt like home.
It doesn't. This whole place is a haunting reminder of everything that I'd been trying to forget, every insult, sneer and mocking laugh I endured. I find it hard to trust in these people, to talk nicely, play nicely, be friends with them when they let me be tortured at the hands of the last Patrol Sheriff. I find it hard to believe in them, their innocence, their goodness. I don't see things like I used to. I think that maybe the sweet and innocent girl I used to be might be dead forever, and I have that fact thrown in my face every day I stay here.
I'm only doing this for Wayne. I don't want to help people anymore. Let them fend for themselves. I'm too tired to put up with their nonsense. I just wanna live my life, be me and go with the flow. I'm only on the Patrol because Wayne begged me to, I'm only here because my parents were worried and my Papa and Nana said it would be good for me. I'm here because I have to be. It's my duty. Things have changed for the better, but I haven't, and now I fit in worse here than I did out in the country.
He needs me, though. His Mama beats him and he doesn't have a Nana to run to. His Daddy won't stand up to her and neither of them are going to ask for help from the police. They're sticking together because of love and family and all that. I don't understand that much anymore. I reckon there's no reason to stay with someone who hurts you. Then I wake up and realize I'm here, doing that exact thing every day. I'm here for Wayne the way he's here for his Mama. I still don't think it's smart, but I'm not leaving, so what right do I have to say anything about decisions and logic?
I'm just as messed up in all of this as he is. I'm just as lost and confused now as I used to be. Wayne's slipping away again, into another persona, another lie, another fake smile. I'm losing him. I don't want to. I thought he wanted us to be back together? I thought we were close. I thought we were rebuilding our relationship from the ground up. That's what he promised me. Yet here he is laughing a fake laugh, smiling fake smiles and shaking the hands of powerful people while I fade into the background. I came here because I wanted to rebuild what we had.
This isn't what we had. I'm all alone in this, in ways I never was before. It's one thing to be alone by choice, it's another to be alone because the person you moved here for is too busy to be with you. I get the feeling I'm convenient. I'm useful when he needs to vent about his problems, and then I'm left to my own devices. I'm a tool. I'm being used. I should leave, but I still want to try and get my Wayne back, because I want my life back.
Sniffling, hoping the fact I was just crying doesn't carry in my voice, I hear myself say, "I feel fine. I'm having a great time here, Papa."