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Chapter 3: Fractured

Raegen's Point of View

The blaring of my alarm jolted me awake from my sleep abruptly, the sound cutting a jagged edge to the fog that clung to my mind. I blinked, disoriented, the remnants of my dream still clinging to me like wet leaves. Where was I? For a fleeting moment, panic flared within me, a sharp, cold prickle before the contours of my new bedroom slowly swam into focus.

I was in LaPush, my new home. But the relief was weak, easily overshadowed by a bone-deep exhaustion despite the ten hours of sleep I'd endured.

My head felt thick, like it was stuffed with cotton. I was suddenly aware of where I was but heavily anxious of the day ahead; my first day of school in LaPush. My alarm continued its shrill assault, and with a groan, I reached out a heavy arm to silence it. My hair was damp, plastered to my forehead with sweat, and as I brushed the strands away, my hand felt slick and clammy.

I must've been in an anxious sweat all night long. I groaned and peeled myself from my tangled sheets, my limbs reluctant to cooperate. I needed a shower, a physical cleansing to try and wash away some of this pervasive unease and sweat.

Before heading to the bathroom, I grabbed a thick, fluffy towel from the linen closet, its softness was a small comfort in the growing tension in my chest. The bathroom tile was cool against my bare feet as I turned on the shower, cranking the handle all the way to hot—boiling hot. I wanted to scald away the anxiety that was already building in my stomach.

I closed my eyes, letting the water pound against my skin, the heat a welcome balm. But my mind, that restless beast, wouldn't be quieted. It drifted, unbidden, towards the familiar pull of escape. I pictured myself getting high, drifting into a euphoric haze, the edges of the world softened, the anxieties muted as I daydreamed of better times.

I saw myself walking those late-night city streets, the glittering lights of New York City blurring into streaks of shimmering gold and silver. There was a freedom in that picture, a detached lightness I desperately craved. My daydream was abruptly shattered by a sharp, worried voice.

"Honey? You have thirty minutes until school starts!" My grandma's voice, muffled by the bathroom door, was laced with a soft, gentle urgency, reminding me to hurry.

My heart leaped, a panicked bird fluttering in my chest. LaPush. High school. The reality of it crashed down on me, the imagined escape dissolving like mist. This wasn't the familiar anonymity of a city. This was a small reservation, and I was about to attend a completely new high school, a terrifying jump into the unknown.

A wave of nausea washed over me, a mixture of dread and self-loathing. Why did I have to be so anxious and depressed? Why couldn't I just be normal? I fumbled with the shower controls, sending a spray of cold water across the tiles as I turned it off. I quickly stepped out, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat.

I slapped the towel around myself, not even bothering to dry properly. My wet footprints marked my frantic retreat back to my bedroom, my mind already racing with a million what-ifs and wishes that I was back home, in New York City as I rushed to get ready.

I pulled on a pair of baggy, faded black jeans and threw on a grey knitted sweater that fell loosely off one of my shoulders, leaving one bare and the other covered. The edges of the knitted sweater swam over my small frame. The day had barely begun and I already felt like I was drowning.

…

I was walking along the dirt road to my first day at high school in LaPush with my backpack hanging on over back. Before I'd left the house my grandma had pointed which way the school was, she said it'd be a ten-minute walk up the dirt road, I'd hang a left at the convenience store and then the school would be two minutes from there.

My new raincoat that I wore over my grey, knit sweater chafed against my skin. Anxiety filled the pit of my stomach. Today, my anxiety overpowered my depression, dulling it, giving me instead, a pit in my stomach of nerves coiled around my organs instead of the usual despair and gloom that clouded my thoughts every waking moment.

The anxiety was kind of a relief, considering my gnawing nerves and edginess momentarily dulled my usual depressed state of self-loathing and the constant self-destructive ideas that filled my mind that I used to pull myself out of the darkness.

The darkness. It was always there, bubbling up right beneath the surface.

It was a fire, always burning, and even when I thought the last ember had died out, because some distraction or high let me forget about its existence, a spark was always there, still igniting the flames.

My depression never ceased, even right now, with my crushing anxiety against my ribcage, my depression had only just dulled.

I suddenly reached the entrance of the La Push High School, a simple, small brick building that looked weathered but sturdy, like the ocean wind had tried and failed to wear it down. A small group of students loitered near the entrance, laughing amongst themselves. I was so hyper-aware of their existence that I was certain they could hear my heartbeat echoing like a drum. My anxiety was a burden.

I hesitated at the door to the school, my pulse pounding in my ears. Just walk in, I thought to myself, clutching the fraying strap of my backpack for dear life. It's just a building. Just people. No one's going to stare—

The bell rang overhead, cutting off my thoughts. The crowd by the entrance scattered, filing inside like a school of fish that didn't care if I was lagging behind. I took a deep breath, forced my unwilling legs to move, and crossed the threshold.

The hallways were a kaleidoscope of murmurs, footsteps, and lockers slamming shut. It was overwhelming, a chaotic tide of movement and noise that swallowed me whole. My anxiety latched onto me like a vice, squeezing until my fingers tingled. I stopped by the edge of a row of lockers, trying to pretend I wasn't entirely lost as my eyes franticly searched around for a sign that could point to the office where I could pick up my schedule.

As I anxiously walked through the hallways of LaPush High, every pair of eyes turned toward me; some were intrigued, some were skeptical, and others bore the sharp glint of judgment. I could feel their whispers curling around me like tendrils of fog, amplifying my anxiety. "Who is she?" "Where did she come from?" The unsettling buzz only drew me deeper into my shell, and I forced myself to walk with poise and false confidence, despite my heart thumping like a drum against my ribs.

"Hey, you're new, right?" A voice said, breaking through the hum of whispers and stares.

The voice startled me—a soft, gentle and kind, yet confident tone that pierced through the noise. I looked up to see a girl about my age standing in front of me. She had warm brown skin and dark eyes that sparkled with curiosity. Her hair fell in thick, shiny waves around her shoulders and she stood around my height. For a second, too nervous to respond, I couldn't find my voice.

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled, feeling my face heat up. My gaze dropped to the floor. "First day."

She smiled at me, and it was so genuine that it caught me off guard. "I thought so. Everyone knows everyone here, and I didn't recognize you. I'm Kim."

I nodded awkwardly, still clutching my backpack. "I'm Raegan but you can call me Rae."

Kim tilted her head, studying me with a kind of calm curiosity. "You look like you could use some help. Want me to show you around?"

This offer should have been a relief, but my anxiety twisted it into something sharp. I almost declined, desperate to escape any potential awkwardness. But then I remembered that I was in this town all alone. I had to at least try to make friends. So I nodded, forcing what I hoped was a grateful smile.

"Sure. Thanks. I'm trying to find the office so I can pick up my schedule."

"I'll show you around." Kim said with a glowing smile.

Kim walked a little ahead of my pace, weaving me through the corridors easily. As she pointed out different rooms, teachers, and landmarks with the kind of easy confidence I envied, I realized something strange: she wasn't overwhelming. Her presence didn't demand anything from me. She just moved along, chatting like we were old friends, but without expecting me to say much in return. Kim was bubbly and bright, maybe a little shallow, but also peaceful and easygoing.

"Where'd you move from?" she asked at one point, glancing at me as we stopped by the library.

"New York." I replied quietly.

"Cool! You're going to be really popular here! Pretty much everyone here's from LaPush. You're new." she gawked.

"What's New York like?" She asked, prying, curiosity peaked in her eyes.

"Busy, loud and cold." I said politely, giving my staple answer.

Then I looked into her kind, curious eyes that were awaiting more details and I decided to give Kim a fuller, more honest answer.

"There's always something to do, night or day, but with everyone so busy all the time, we tend to get disconnected, and sometimes it gets pretty lonely." I said honestly, my anxious smile turning into a frown as I spoke. Then realizing my words had gotten too depressing, I quickly changed the vibe of the conversation.

"So, I'm glad to be living somewhere smaller now—in this reservation—in LaPush, so I can be somewhere more close-knit for a while. I think I'll enjoy the change." I said with a shy smile, not sure if I meant the words at all but it seemed like a nice sentiment about LaPush and I didn't want to seem like I despised it and wished I was back home. That'd be next-level rude.

Kim smiled at my words. "Yeah, I think you'll like LaPush. Do you have any friends here yet?" Kim asked me.

"No, not yet." I replied quietly in the busy hallway, but feeling more alone than ever.

"Well, would you like to come to a bonfire with me tonight, if you want to meet new people, make friends?" Asked Kim, with an odd facial expression, kindness mixed with…indecision or uncertainty or dilemma? It felt like her eyes held a secret. But, I couldn't tell.

But, for the first time that day, the weight in my chest seemed to ease, just a little. It wasn't a miraculous cure—depression doesn't work that way—but it was something. A small act of kindness, a tiny foothold of familiarity in an ocean of uncertainty.

By the time Kim dropped me off at the head office, reminding me to find her at lunch, I felt like I could at least survive the day. That was all I could ask for, really. One day at a time. And maybe—just maybe—I wouldn't have to face the next one completely alone—and in pain.

…

Throughout the morning, teachers introduced me to my new classes with welcoming smiles, but the whispers continued—all I could hear were murmurs about my clothes, my New York accent, and the curious, almost scrutinizing looks directed my way. It was as if I had stepped into the role of a new character in a strange play, everyone watching closely as I navigated the stage. I felt like the centre of attention—and I was.

Guys approached me with playful smiles, flinging compliments that felt uncomfortable, startled and slightly awe-struck. I smiled back, but inside, I felt like a glass toy, on the verge of breaking apart into a million pieces. The girls stared, their eyes slicing through my laughter with coolness as they exchanged glances filled with judgment as if they could unravel my story with a simple glare. Maybe, they'd heard rumours about me, about why I'd been sent to LaPush. I'd have to ask Kim.

I shared my second class of my first day of school—my class that was right before lunch, with Kim. I chatted with her in whispers—to avoid getting in trouble with Mrs.Long, all class long and got to know that she is deeply in love with her boyfriend, although he and his friends don't show up to school much so she is usually alone and feeling like an outcast at school due to the rumours about her boyfriend, Jared and his friends.

Kim is an incredibly kind, compassionate and thoughtful person, and it is pitiful and unfortunate that she has little friends at school. I took pity on Kim and reluctantly accepted her offer to go with her to the bonfire. She said it'd take place at six o'clock on the cliffs.

When lunch rolled around, Kim and I walked together from class to the cafeteria. Kim led the way. The cafeteria here, in La Push was ten times smaller than the cafeteria in my last school in New York City. It had big windows though, large rectangular windows that my last school didn't have in the cafeteria, showing the trees, greenery, fog and rain to all the students in the cafeteria as they ate and chatted—and stared.

Kim and I grabbed food and then we sat down at an empty table. Kim's genuine kindness felt like a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty. We chatted as I nibbled on my turkey sandwich, my stomach twisting with equal parts hunger and nerves.

"Have you heard any rumours about me?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, even though the words hung in the air like an awfully heavy question.

Kim arched an eyebrow, glancing around the crowded cafeteria. "Oh, for sure," she said, leaning in conspiratorially.

"I heard you got sent to live here because you were caught smoking weed back in New York. Some mom found out and now everyone thinks you're some kind of delinquent." She said solemnly.

"But I don't believe them." She said as she shook her head.

"It's a small town and gossip spreads like wildfire." Kim added.

A familiar ache pulsed in my chest. I was no stranger to being the subject of whispered judgment, but this felt different—it felt more personal. I had made mistakes, true, but I didn't want to be reduced to just another label. The truth was, I hadn't touched an illegal substance in days, but I wasn't ready to reveal the full saga of my past to Kim. The cocktail of pills and alcohol that I used to dull my depression lurked behind my words like dark shadows I couldn't quite shake.

"Yeah, I've made mistakes," I admitted, my voice steady.

"But I'm trying to move on. Drugs… they're not a part of my life anymore." The lie tasted bitter; I hoped it didn't seep through my lips.

Kim nodded as if she understood, her empathy a balm to my insecurities. "We all have a past," she whispered.

"Just be yourself. The right people will see you for who you are." Kim said with a smile as she took a bite of her sandwich.

"Thanks Kim." I responded with a genuine smile.

Kim and I chatted for a bit as we ate and then the bell rang, interrupting the cocoon of comfort Kim had woven around us. I stood and followed her through the throngs of students as we dropped off our trays, the student's whispers trailing behind us like an unsettling echo. The vulnerable rawness of my truth lay heavy on my chest, but I pressed forward.

With each step to my next class, I could feel the shifting tide of perception. Maybe not everyone would see me as the girl with a sordid past. Maybe I could reshape who I was, start anew with the pieces of my life that still glimmered with hope.

As I walked to my next class, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a window—there I stood, that same new girl in faded black jeans and a grey knit sweater, eyes dark and red with depression and lack of sleep but swirling with something new as well, hope. And for the first time, I thought: maybe LaPush could be the place where I find not just friends but a home.

My last two classes of the day passed by slowly and leisurely but eventually, I made it inside my grandma's house fifteen minutes after the last bell had rung throughout the school, shaking the wooden walls with its clangour. I pulled off my raincoat, hung it on a hook and shook out my wet hair as I entered my grandma's house.

I kicked my shoes off and pushed them with my feet into a corner as I grabbed my backpack and hauled it over my back as I walked upstairs. I sat on my bed with my feet tucked under me as I pulled my homework out of my backpack and began to work on it.

My long, dark, wet hair fell in front of my face as I used my pen to write down my answers to the textbook in my notebook. Every once in a while I looked up at the clock on my nightstand to check the time. I was chewing on the inside of my lip off like crazy, as I stressed over the impending bonfire invite.

Kim was sweet, genuine and kind but her invite and the way she talked about her boyfriend held an undercurrent of something deeper, like she was hiding a secret or suppressing a part of her life—her story. I just didn't quite feel like I had enough info on tonight. I didn't know who else would be there or what the expectations were. I was stressing out, my stomach felt all knotted up.

Suddenly, I heard a gentle knock on my bedroom door and my door creaked open. My grandma stepped through the doorway carrying a cup of tea in her smooth, wrinkled hands.

"I made you tea honey. How was your first day of school?" My grandma asked me as she crossed the room and handed me the cup of tea.

"What kind of tea is it?" I asked, a little judgment and temper seeped into my tone by accident, my teenage angst getting the best of me.

"Chamomile. It will warm you up from the rain." She replied as she stood beside me awaiting my answer.

"My day was good. I met a really nice girl named Kim and I—got through my first day." I finished, unsure of how to describe my day.

"Kim?" She pondered.

"Kim who's with that lovely boy named Jared Cameron?" My Grandma asked curiously, with an undercurrent of secrecy or something else perhaps.

"Uh…yes, that's the Kim I met at school. She's really nice." I said with a smile.

"Uh…do you know anything about Jared or the boys he hangs out with? Kim invited me to a bonfire tonight and she told me he would be there." I asked my Grandma, trying to pry further into who would be at the bonfire tonight and what they were like.

"Jared's a great boy and so are the boys he hangs around with. They're all very mature and responsible members of LaPush." My Grandma said and then she paused for a very long time before continuing.

"They're great…mentors. The tribes very proud of them." She said warily.

"What time is the bonfire you're going to?" My Grandma asked.

"It's at six o'clock." I replied.

"You'll hear some old tribal stories and there will most likely be lots of food. Enjoy yourself dear, and be safe. Stay out as long as you want." She said gently as she put a hand on my shoulder.

"Thank you Grandma." I said to her with a small smile and then she walked towards my door and exited my bedroom.

I sipped my tea and checked the clock. It was five o'clock. I was supposed to meet Kim at the bonfire in about an hour. So, I continued to work on my homework. And, within fifteen minutes, I had finished.

I realized my hair was still damp and terribly messy so I grabbed my brush, sat by my mirror and combed my hair, then used the blowdryer in my room to gently dry it. I kept combing after my hair had dried and then sprayed some perfume on my neck so I could smell like lavender. I set down my perfume bottle and gazed into the mirror.

My hair was luscious, warm and wavy as it fell down my shoulder blades. My eyelashes were full and dark against my pale, freckle-covered skin and my big, green eyes popped against my dark brows.

I knew it'd be cold tonight so I changed into a gray hoodie. My jeans were kind of still damp from the rain so I pulled off my jeans, put them in the laundry basket and pulled on a pair of baggy blue jeans.

My depression still had me in a chokehold but it felt duller now since I was keeping so busy. As long as I stayed busy, my mind didn't have time to wander to pessimistic thoughts. That was the good part about starting school, even though it was a new school.

I looked at the clock. It was six o'clock exactly. But my nerves felt like they were ripping me to shreds, tearing me apart, breaking me into pieces. I felt sick. I pulled my arms around my stomach, trying to ease the anxiety that was breaking me apart from the inside. I gripped on to my abdomen fiercely, trying to get the anxiety to just stop.

Holding on to my abdomen wan't helping my anxiety lessen. But, I knew one way this anxiety could cease. I got up from my bed and walked to my suitcase. Hidden in a pocket, under a zipper, beneath some clothes I hadn't unpacked yet was a baggy. I snatched it up in my hands. I looked down at the small clear zip-lock bag in my hands. Inside of it, were two dark green buds—weed. I felt further in the pocket it was hidden in and found a stack of rolling papers and a lighter.

I pressed the objects into my palm and pushed them into the front pocket of my jeans. I'd leave the house, smoke in the forest, and then walk to the bonfire. I'd just be a little late, but anxiety free.

Words of The Day:

Pervasive: spread throughout

Balm: a plant or tree yielding such a substance, any aromatic or fragrant ointment

Clangor: a continuous loud banging or ringing sound

Fractured: break into pieces.

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