Too Much Familiar Pain

(Mental Health, Suicide and Self Harm)

Waking up in the morning, going to school, and hearing things about me and my family had been normal for years. My mom who committed suicide, and now with an emotionally absent father; it’s been lonely, but the norm for my little brother and I. 

Moving to Marfa wasn’t a plan or a choice agreed to, but to get away from the godforsaken town my mother died in wasn’t a second thought. Still, I hated what she had done to us as a family. Dad's grief seemed all encompassing and eternal; EJ’s too young to understand, but I’ll continue to suffer by myself. No more burdens to be brought to this already broken family. The troubling thing is that I hate her so much, because I loved her so much. She was my best friend, the one I talked to about everything. The one I went to when I was sad. It's a shame she didn’t feel the same about me. I hate that she left us. EJ. Me. Maybe my existence brought on her depression, maybe I shouldn’t have been born in the first place; Who knows if I’ll even decide to live. But for EJ, I push those thoughts away because I owe it to him to stay strong. 

The few weeks before starting senior year in a new school, my Dad wanted me to go to a teen support group. I don’t need it though. Ever since Mom, all I’ve got is me, what more do I need? But, that's where I met Jackson. Utterly charming with blonde and fluffy hair, green sparkling eyes, and this sense of comfort I couldn’t explain. 

“I just feel like everything is my fault! Why didn’t she want me?!” I cried into his shoulder late one night. He pats my head and says “Shh, It’s alright Kay. It’s not your fault. She wanted you, I promise. I want you.” 

He understood me, he listened to me, he was just there for me . Until he wasn’t and I lost almost all admiration for him. 

I walked into Marfa High begging for a fresh start, looking for the only one I now trusted in my world. Jackson. But the second I found him: a smile plastered on my face butterflies and urgency buried in my stomach; I dropped everything as my heart plunged straight to the ground. Turns out he didn’t give a flying fuck about me. “She’s an emotional loser who’ll just kill herself like her mother.” And then I was gone. Physically, mentally; I walked steadily to the bathroom with tears down my cheeks, but with a set straight face. Sitting on the tile with not another thought in my mind. Our friendship, or more, was overrated anyways.

Today I stand alone almost 6 months later. I never went back to the support group which in turn meant I hardly made contact with Jackson, I never made any friends at school in fact, I didn’t really talk to anyone; I only cared for EJ. 

My phone chimes and buzzes waking me up at seven AM,  just enough time to throw on my usual dark red hoodie and jeans. Wearing a ton of makeup hasn’t been my forte, so I swipe on some mascara before brushing my teeth, piling my dark hair up into a messy bun, and leaving for school. My dad needs the car for EJ more than I do, and the school is only a mile away so I endure the walk. Plus, I love nature. 

In my pocket, I feel my phone buzz from a text. It’s from an unknown number reading, “Meet me in the auditorium after eighth period.” Considering this is a person from my school and I have absolutely no friends or contact with any of them, I should do the exact opposite of what the text says. But for some reason, I don’t think I’m going to. Hell, school is almost over. What more could anyone do to break me down further. 

I slip my phone back in my pocket continuing on to the school. The traffic is light since it’s still somewhat early, and the weather is pleasant. The clouds are out, but for once it’s not rainy; just dewy enough to create an enjoyable thickness to the air. It’s almost enough to delight me. 

The school starts to come into view, so I hike up my backpack, turn my phone to silent, and brace myself. Anticipation is flooding over me quickly to get to the end of the day, and I don't know why. Maybe it's the fact that since everything is so constant, a little bit of change sparks something inside me that I have no capability of shutting out. 

I walk into the quiet, mostly empty building; time seven thirty five. Too early for the normal. I stop at my locker and drop off my bag just taking my journal and a pen. I’m heading to the auditorium now because it’s my spot of comfort. No noise, never a person in sight. Just me, my journal, and my depressive thoughts. It is no surprise anonymous wants to meet me there. Walking in, I notice a dim light illuminating from the left. The supply closet. Expectant that it’s just a custodian, I veer left and head for the stairs leading to the balcony seating. I take my seat against the old fashioned pattern, indented from being the only one sitting there for so long. I open my journal and sketch, random things, nothing serious. I hear clattering from the closet startling me from my art. Before I know it, my pencil’s flying out of my hand, rolling down the stairs. “Shit.” I mutter, chasing it to the bottom. Picking it up, I look up to catch a glimpse of a dark clothed figure slipping out the door. I shake my head with a puzzled look before I turn around up the stairs, grab my journal and head to my first period. 

As much as I want to hate him, Jackson is in my first period and I’ll always look forward to seeing him. At the beginning of the year; he gave me small guilty glances after I never found him on that dreadful first day of school, but I never let him see how much it affected me. He later got comfortable trying to talk to me and “fix” things, but I would shoot him away everytime. He wants to be the one “ruin” me, I can ruin him too. 

“Hey Kay, you got the answers for this homework?” He asks in a low whisper.

His friends were gone today and he was all alone. He also wouldn’t get away with using that name.

“What's it to you ‘Jack Jack’?” I shoot back without looking up. That name means more to him than it could ever mean to me. 

“Troubles at home?” Yeah I shouldn’t have said that but the words just started to come out. 

“You’re one to talk.” He grumbles. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. At least I still have a home.” 

He slams his hand on the table, stands up and walks out.

It wasn’t my finest moment, but he meant something to me at one point goddammit. I thought I did too. 

I sit down seeing Mr. Chapel at his desk, giving me a small nod. There’s only about 8 other kids in the class even though there's about 6 minutes until class starts. I take my phone out of my pocket and look at the text again. There’s a sliver of hope I have left that it’s from Jackson, but as I look up and see him walk in wearing all black and a glare; I instantly deem myself delusional. 

All of my classes pass by like a blur, even lunch wasn’t memorable. Honestly, in the library by myself never is. 

I start the walk to eighth period when I feel the rush deep in my core again. My mouth is burning dry, my palms are getting moist, everything feels entirely too fuzzy. I’m anxious I’ll admit. This could be a shrill act of bullying and I’m going to calm and collectively waltz in because an anonymous text told me to? No way I’ll go without anyone knowing where I’m at. I pull my phone from my back pocket as I take my seat in Economics. “Might be home a little late.” I sent it to my dad with very low expectations. Will he open and read it? Probably not. Is it at least worth a shot? I guess we’ll find out. 

“Kayla.” I hear a stern voice from the front. Shit. Miss B is standing at the front tapping her foot impatiently. “Apologies.” I say slipping my phone into my pocket. I hear a chuckle from behind me, and of course as I turn around it's Jackson. I glare at him until Miss. B starts lecturing, then I give him the middle finger and turn around. 

I sit staring at the clock, hopelessly counting each and every passing minute until the hand reaches four and the alarm bell chimes in dismissal. “Have a good day everyone!” Miss B yells over the sound of chatter, zippers, and loud footsteps. I wait until almost all of the class, including Jackson, to leave before I throw my bag over my shoulder and head for the door. 

Miss B stops me as she clears her throat and says, “This was left anonymously. For you.” She hands me a small black bracelet. How did she get it? I had lost it ages ago; a reminder of my mother. I take it cautiously and without speaking head to the auditorium. I am no longer anxious; I’m just downright exhausted. I feel toyed with or like I’m in one elaborate prank. I walk with speed and what I’d presume is anger, turning hallway corners as fast as possible; clutching the bracelet tightly. 

The halls are basically empty when I make it to the auditorium and fling the doors open. All lights are off and I don’t see anyone as I step in and scan the seats, that was until my eyes reach the middle of the stage. It’s far too dark to makeout who the person is and at the time I need my rage and confidence, it has vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Who are you?” I call out hastily. I take a step forward until a light flickers on the stage. Illuminating right in front of me; Jackson.

“Hell no. I don’t have time for your games Jackson.” I shout as I turn for the doors. 

“Kayla, wait!” My eyes burn and I clench the bracelet in my hand. I raise my voice a hair, “Why should I even consider waiting for you?” I lock onto those dazzling green eyes, full of fear, regret, and maybe even hurt. “Just listen to me alright?” He pleads. “You broke me first.” I stutter with cracks in my words and hurt in my heart. He steps closer to me, and I take a step back. He doesn't get the chance  to apologize and just pretend everything is okay.

“Kay. I am so sorry. This has gone on for too long.” He motions for us to sit, so I pick my normal balcony seat and walk us up. “I should’ve never said that and I should’ve never ruined your reputation. You didn't deserve to feel the results of my pain.” His words are urgent, and I wonder how long he’s wanted to say them. At this point I have a tear down my cheek. “I trusted you-” “And I broke that. I will apologize for eternity when it’s for you. Do you remember how I told you about my mom and dad?” I nod. She committed when he was young and his father left when he was born. “And you remember the foster care system?” I nod and keep my head down. This boy has been through so much that a part of me wants to forgive and forget, kiss him, and hold him forever. The other part of me wants to stay angry at his excuse. 

“The week before school, I was transferred to a new foster home. My foster father told me, “You’ll end up just like your miserable father; knocking girls up, or…” He stops, takes a deep breath and swallows, “You’ll end up killing yourself like your coward of a mother.” I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand to stop the sob coming from deep inside. My eyes are now rivers of tears, flowing down my cheeks and chin. He reaches forward and wipes the tears from my face with his thumb, then intertwining his hands with mine against my mouth. “Don’t cry for me Kay. I was so angry at him. At the world. And you were the only good thing I trusted. I just thought I wasn’t worthy of you. But, I can’t take it any longer. I want you. Always did.”

“I’ve always wanted you no matter how hard I convinced myself. I forgive you.” I whisper before he engulfs me into a much anticipated hug. So much weight lifted, so much peace granted. I pull back a little to question, “Were you the one to give Miss B my bracelet? Where did you find it?” He gives me a small smile. “After the first day of school, I saw you had run off and left it in the halls. I’ve carried it ever since.” 

“Thank you.” I say, leaning in and kissing him for the first time. My stomachs erupted in sparks, my head is clear of chaos, and my heart feels a little closer to whole. Parting our lips, we touch forehead to forehead before he says, “I’ve loved you since day one.” “And I’ll love you to our end.” I finish, just like my mom once said to me.