Chapter 1
1699 Words
Beep…
Beep…
Beep…
I groan as I hear the sound. I didn’t even need to open my eyes to know what I’m hearing. The sound of the heart monitor was unmistakable. I had woken up to it too many times to mistake it for something else. Why me? Why save me? Who saved me? I open my eyes to see my brother laying by my side. His brown hair sprayed around his head. His head was resting on his arms. He was the quarterback in high school so he is very buff. Of course it was him. He had stopped all of my attempts to end it. What will it take to have him let me go? Why won't he let me go? It took him eighteen years to want me. I know he didn’t before but he still saved me. If he wants gratitude he’s not going to get it. There was no point in saving me, not after what I did. I’ll go to jail for starting the fire. Although that was a childish thing to do but I couldn’t help it. It was my birthday, not that anyone knew that. They still pushed me down. They still shouted horrible things to me. The worst thing was looking at him, beaten by my brother. I was placed back to that day, remembering what he did. Everything had flown out of my mind and I ended up starting the fire. I almost did it. I almost killed myself and I was happy about it. Oh no! Not only did I nearly kill myself but I most likely killed my baby too. Horror shot through me. What was I thinking! The machine’s beeping sped up as my heart did. It was getting harder and harder to breath. My fingers start to tear at my skin. The skin was easier to peel off than usual because of the fire. Tears start to fall from my face onto the burned skin, causing a scream to fall from my lips.
“Hey, hey, hey,” my brother grabs my hands in his, “it’s okay.” No it's not! I killed my baby. I killed my child. Why! I didn’t care how I managed to get pregnant, I wanted that baby. Now that baby is dead because of me. My baby is dead because of ME! “Estelle, look at me,” he grabs my face causing me to look at him, “Look at me, you didn’t lose anything. Okay.” What does he mean I didn’t lose anything! I lost my baby! I lost EVERYTHING! I look in his eyes and realize what he means. I didn’t lose anything because my baby still lives. I’m still carrying a baby. Relief fills my body. Anger quickly overcame it, I nearly lost my baby because of me. The urge to hurt myself grew as my anger did. No! I can’t do this anymore! “Amell, I need to see a therapist,” I tell my brother. Relief filled his face, when I said that. I have given him hell when it came to my mental health. I’m surprised he even keeps trying, anyone else would’ve given up by now. He hasn’t. He moves to press a button and when he does a girl walks in. “Estelle, this is Kyna. She is a witch. She can heal your burns from the fire. Is that alright?” I nodded. I didn’t know what I currently look like but considering I nearly burned to death I’m guessing bad. Kyna walks over to me and places her hands on my burned body. Her hand starts to glow and my body heats ups. My skin that I can see starts to look normal again. They unhook me from the machine and I go to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror. My blond hair that was once down to my waist had burned to the middle of my back. My skin was covered in ashes from the fire. My brown eyes match my brother’s. I place my hand on my flat stomach, that won’t be that way for long. I bit my plump lips as I looked at my big breast. These are only going to get bigger. I have a hard enough time finding bras as it sits. My hips matched my butt, which matched my boobs. Too big for comfort.
Time went every fast and the next thing I know I’m in a counselor's room. “Hello, Estelle. My name is James Mylo. I will be your therapist and I would love for you to feel comfortable enough to relax and open up to me but by the looks of it you aren’t either relaxed or comfortable.” He’s got that right. I don’t know him. Why would I be either of those things? I’m only here for the sake of my baby. I don’t even want to be here. “Your brother told me you write poems. Why don’t we start with that?” “Ok, I guess,” I respond to him. “Good, feel free to start with anyone you feel like and we can talk about what caused you to write it,” he replies. Ok. What should I start with? One More Year? No, too personal. The Grave She Makes? No, too soon. As she sits there? No, no, no. I got it! If I Fail. It’s not too personal but still deep. “I have picked one. It’s Called If I Fail,” I tell him. He motions for me to continue. Ok. I can do this.“My poems aren’t the traditional rhyming kind. They are more like a lesson or a one side conversation. My poems are like my diary. I wrote this one about two years ago. Here I go.
If I fail
Will you still love me
If I fall
Will you still care
If I break
Will you put me together
If I’m fake
Will you still be there
If I love you
Will you love me too
If I talk
Will you listen
If I feel
Will you let me
If I panic
Will you calm me
If I cry
Will you let it be on you
If I die
Will you will you let me
If I lie
Will you back me up
I know I’m asking a lot
I know you you don’t want me
I know you don’t love me
But I want you to
They don’t want me
They all don’t want me
They want me to leave you alone
He wants her
Our parents want me to be a boy
She wants to break me
All of you can break me
And all of you will
I am drowning
In my sorrow
I am alone
I am broken
I am unlovable
I’m sorry
For what I am
I’m sorry for what I cannot change”
Dr. Mylo grabs a tissue and hands it to me. I hadn’t realized that I had started crying. Taking the tissue I dab at the tears running down my face. “That seems to have an impact on you. Tell me, who’s it meant for,” he states. “It’s meant for Amell,” I tell him. He nods his head as he writes something down. “And who are the they?”
“Pretty much everyone else.”
“What about the she?”
“Elanor. She was the head cheerleader at the time.”
“Is Elanor also the her?”
“Yes.” “What was her role in your life?’
“She made it missable and my parents made sure it was hell.”
“Was she why you started the fire?”
How does he know about that? Is he going to send me to jail?
“Don’t worry Estelle, I’m not going to turn in. I just need to know exactly what you have gone through, including the fire.”
“No, Elanor was not why I started the fire.”
“How about the he? Who is he.”
I stop. The he is the reason I’m in this predicament. “Who the he’s identity is unimportant.”
“Okay, then. Let’s call him Bubble Boy. Is Bubble Boy why you started the fire?”
“Yes.”
“Is that all you want to say about Bubble Boy?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Tell me about the day of the fire.”
“It was my eighteenth birthday. When I woke up I took a pregnancy test. I placed the test on the back of the toilet. Without waiting for the results I hopped in the shower. When I got out I got dressed and dried my hair. I grabbed the test and went back to my room. After getting ready for school, I looked at the test. It was positive. I was so freaked out it buried it in my trash can and left. When I got there people were kicking me, spitting on me, and calling me names. Then I saw Ka- Bubble Boy and I ran locked myself in an abandoned room. I had started to scratch my skin off. As soon as I got rid of the first few layers, I took a knife out of my bag and cut over the burn-like surface. I pulled out my lighter and burned the untouched areas. It wasn’t doing anything fast enough, so I set the school on fire.”
The rest of the session went by pretty quickly.
- Writer
