Blame Me

This chapter has strong themes of emotional abuse, talk of suicide, and physical violence. Viewer discretion is advised.

The week goes by in a flash. I can hardly distinguish one day from the next. It feels like a long string of time with no end. My inability to sleep only makes it harder and longer. It takes me hours to sleep, and then I only stay that way for a few. I started watching videos or listening to music while I read. After the first night, though, I got worried that I was making too much noise. So, I swiped some headphones from work, so I wouldn’t make noise. Online comics are a godsent. Though, you can only stay entertained on your phone for so long. After a while you just give up a memorize the ceiling instead. Oliver’s been picking me up after school other than Friday and Saturday. I feel bad that he walks an extra five minutes every day to pick me up, but he wouldn’t hear anything about stopping. I mentioned one day that I was safe, and he ignored the comment. Charlie hasn’t said anything to me or even looked in my direction. Any time I’ve seen him he goes the other way or watches the floor. It’s weird not having anybody to be with at school. I’ve always had one person. It was Lil till last year, then it was Charlie and his friends. Now, it’s just me.

During lunch I wander through the halls. I don’t have company to sit with at lunch anymore. Even if I did, I don’t have enough money to be spending recklessly. A sandwich is not worth six dollars. So, during lunch I do a few laps of the school. It’s good exercise. Today I was able to get a granola bar. I take it out of my backpack and slowly eat it. The pants of my winter uniform rub together making a swish sound. I listen to some random playlist on my phone containing music I don’t like anymore. Goosebumps run up my arms while I pull my sweatshirt around myself more. A person turns the corner to come down the hallway. I hardly recognize the face with all the purple and yellow bruises covering it. Charlie looks up from the floor and notices me. He quickly turns and goes back around the corner. He didn’t have those yesterday.

I catch myself wondering what happened, but quickly throw the thought away. It’s none of my business what happened. I shouldn’t care anyway. I run down the hall and turn the corner. Charlie slowly walks to the other side of the hall. I start running after him. I don’t care what happened, but in the bottom of my gut it gives me a bad feeling. “Hey!” He turns around to see me coming after him. He turns like he’s going to run away but I catch up to him too fast. “What happened to your face?” I try to catch my breath.

“I can’t tell you.” My brain picks up on the word choice and the feeling in my stomach grows.

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?”

“Be careful who you trust.” He says after a pause. “Sometimes the hero is just a crazy person wearing a cape.” He leaves with that last weird fucking sentence.

“The fuck does that mean?” I whisper to myself as I walk away. I check the time on my phone and start walking back to my locker. The hairs on the back of my neck raise. It feels like somebody is behind me, but I ignore it and keep going forward. I’m just overreacting since Charlie was being so fucking weird.

When I get to my locker, there’s a bunch of people in the way. I push my way through with only a few protests. My locker can only open a crack because of all the bodies in the way. I stick my hand in to grab my English books. I take out the novel we’re reading then go back in for the grammar book. My hand touches a small piece of paper, and I stop when I feel something wet on it. My fingers are red when I take my hand out. I push open my door a little more to see inside. An envelope sits neatly at the front. It has my name written on the front with dark red ink. It’s still wet.

The envelope is thicker than the ones before. I shut my locker door as the bell rings and people finally get out of the way. I hide the envelope between my books and go to the library for my study hall. There are only a few people in this study hall, so I should be safe to look. I lay my books open and slide the envelope in the pages of them. I set up the laptop I borrow from the school in front of me to hide what I’m doing. My hands hesitate to open the envelope, but I force myself to grab it and slide the note out. The paper of the note is covered in red smudges similar to the ink on the front.

“I know what happened at the party, and honestly, I was excited. But then you came stumbling out unscathed, it really pissed me off. I told you to lay low, and you went around doing whatever you wanted. You act so high and mighty, miss all knowing. It’s funny because I figured you’d notice. But you didn’t. We’ve been following you for months, and you haven’t even seen us. You and Oliver seem close there at the gas station. It’d be a shame if something happened to him because of you. You know since you ruin everything around you. Not that you’d care anyway. You don’t care about the people around you unless it affects you. One moment you’re with Charlie and the next you’re drooling over some other guy. He’s not even rich, just some nobody. Then there are your old friend’s parents. You’re guilting them into letting you stay there. Could you be more pathetic? I guess it runs in your genes, though, huh? I would tell you to keep a low profile again, but you didn’t listen the first two times. Somebody has to pay for the trouble you cause. Watch your back because we are.”

A stack of photos slips out of the envelope. I feel my blood rush out of my body. My hands shake as I pick up the stack of photos. There are photos of everything. The day Charlie and I ran into Leo, me leaving Oliver’s house, a picture through the window of mom’s apartment, and pictures of the party. Some are while we were playing beer pong, us drinking, Charlie taking me from Oliver, him bringing me upstairs, and there are some from inside the room. I’m laying on the floor, and Charlie is in the corner. Then there’s one of me covered in blood crawling away. There’s a dark photo that I can hardly make out. I look closer and see two dark shapes.

I jump up and throw the photos out of my hands. The chair smacks onto the ground and the quick motion pushes some of the photos off the table. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears and through my skin. It sounds like I was just submerged under water. My skin acts like I’m not supposed to be in it. I drop to my knees to quickly pick up the pictures when I notice the librarian coming over. I hear her clunky heels getting closer while I try to grab the evidence. “Mona, are you okay?” I shove the last few pictures into my backpack. I look up at her and try to smile, but I don’t know if it comes out.

“Yeah,” I go to stand my heart still pumping in my ears. The corners of my vision are dark. I get up halfway before I go down. Everything starts getting blurry.

“Mona? Somebody get the nurse.” I see the dark figure rush off. Black spots start popping up till can’t see.

⇜ ⇝

When I open my eyes, I see the sky. “Damn, I died.” I hear a chair roll on the floor as somebody comes into my view.

“I see you’re awake.” The school nurse stares down at me.

“Never mind.” She gives me a quizzical look. “What am I doing here?” I start to sit up, but she pushes me back down by my shoulder. She turns around and comes back with a small cup of water.

“You fainted in the library. You were out for a few hours.” She sits down and helps me sit up. My head literally spins. I close my eyes when I see the dark spots come back. When I open them again, they’re gone. “Mona, have you been eating?”

“Yeah,” I lie.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I’m not going to tell anybody. Not that I could. We couldn’t get ahold of your mother.”

“Good luck.” I mutter into the cup. She sets some crackers on the table next to me.

“Were you distressed in the library?”

“A little,” The pictures from the party pop into my head. I start rubbing the goosebumps off my arm.

“You fainted because you’re extremely underweight and your body doesn’t have enough excess energy. Adding stress on top of that your body couldn’t handle it all.”

“I’m really okay. I just didn’t have a big lunch.” I start to slide out of the bed.

“Careful,” The nurse flusters around me till I get up. “Well, school is going to be over in an hour. You can go to your last class if you want, or you can stay here.” I consider skipping class and staying here, but I don’t like the way she keeps staring at me. I grab my things and start to leave. “Mona.” I turn my head back to her. “Try to eat a little more…for lunch. Your body can’t go that long on so little.” She goes around the corner without another word as do I.

I sit through the end of school with my head spinning and crazy nausea. As soon as the bell goes off, I’m gone. I walk out the front doors as soon as I can. The fresh air is helpful, makes me feel better. I sit at the front of the school and nibble on the crackers the nurse gave me. Oliver comes a couple of minutes after I get outside. The entire walk to work I feel dizzy, but after having the crackers it’s not as bad. Maybe I should spend a little more money on food, or I could always steal some. There’s a small tap on my arm, and I look up and notice Oliver’s holding the door open for me. I hadn’t realized we’d already made it to work. “You okay?” Oliver asks while we clock in.

“Yeah, just feeling out of it.” We go up front. The day is the same as normal. Slow, not a lot of customers, then Oliver tells me to go get my homework. This time he grabs his own as well. I set my backpack down and pull out my phone after it starts buzzing. There’s a text from an unknown number, “Where are you?” I ignore it and set my phone down on the counter. When I look back up, I notice something and stop. In the parking lot across from us is an apartment building. All the cars are beat up and shitty, except for one. There’s a shiny new car sitting facing toward the gas station. I try to make out weather there’s anybody in it, but the windows are too dark for me to tell.

“Mona, what are these?” I break out of my staring to look at the source of Oliver’s question. The source? My open backpack filled with pictures of me. I shoot up and grab my bag away from him. He leans back with wide eyes.

“Sorry, it’s just uh, personal.” I quickly ramble out. I grab the pictures and try to hide while I shove them in a book. I pull out my math, and we start working. We’re quiet for a long time. Every so often he checks to make sure I’m on the right track. He works on what looks like physics.

“Are you okay?” He asks without looking up or stopping. He flips to the next page in his textbook.

“In what sense?”

“In them all, I guess. You’ve been jumpy today. We’re friends, or at least I think we are, so you can talk to me. I mean you’ve slept in my room and worn my clothes. That’s the friendliest I’ve ever been with someone.” He writes down an answer in his packet.

“Yeah, we’re friends.” I mumble out. I didn’t put a label on us. I just knew I enjoyed and trusted him.

“So, what’s wrong?” How should I even start? A customer walks in buying me some time. As soon as the customer walks out the door Oliver turns to me.

“Well, there’s a lot of things going on I guess.” I start to stumble out some words when my phone starts buzzing on the counter. “One sec, hello?” I answer my phone to hear Terry’s voice. “Mona, I need you here. Come please.” The phone clicks and she’s gone.

“Weird.”

“What?”

“My mom just called me and said she needed help.”

“Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. She said she needed me then hung up. Hey, are you okay if I leave a few hours early? I can’t ignore her in good conscious.”

“Are you trying to avoid the conversation?”

“No, just feel guilty not looking into it.”

“Yeah, go ahead. I still want you to talk. If not to me someone else.”

“Uh, yeah, we can talk or something.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I grab my backpack off the ground.

“Nothing, it’s our day off.”

“Want to grab something to eat? You can tell me whatever you feel comfortable telling me, and you get a free meal.” The nurse from school pops into my head.

“Yeah sure, sounds good.” I call out a goodbye and leave. I feel bad leaving him alone after freaking out earlier. I don’t give a shit about Terry, but she’s just a pathetic addict. I can’t just leave her all alone if she needs help. The thought of seeing her pisses me off, but not enough to not go. I walk up the stairs to the apartment. I see her sitting on the couch when I walk in. “Terry?” I call out. She stands and walks into the kitchen.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here? You just called me and asked me to come here.” I notice the zip lock bags on the counter and her red eyes and strong grip to the counter. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t remember calling you. Do you have any money?” She looks over at me for the first time.

“Not really, why?”

“Just don’t have much for food this month.” She starts scratching her arm while staring at the fridge.

“Do you want me to get you some food?” Her head snaps up as if she just realized I was there.

“Don’t treat me like a child. I can take care of myself. Always have.” She pushes off the counter.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. You said you were short on money for food. I was just trying to help since you called me asking for help.”

“Why would I call and ask you for help?”

“Cause you’re high Terry.”

“What right do you have to say that to me?” I see the flip switch. “I’m living my life, and you come barging in here all the time.”

“I’m your child, also you called me. You said, please come. Should I just start ignoring your pleas for help? You know, last time you called and asked me to help it was so you could sell me to your drug dealer. Maybe I should assume you’re just dying on the street. Call it a win.” I turn annoyed that I wasted my time coming here.

“You think you’re so good. That’s why I don’t want you here. You think you’re above everything and everybody.” She rushes toward me.

“I don’t think I’m above anybody but you, you addict.”

“And that’s your problem little girl. You think you’re better than me? You came from me; you have me running through your blood right now. You’re nothing more than a DNA copy of this.” She motions to herself while taking a small step back.

“Except I’ll never be as pathetic as you are.” She starts cackling.

“You know I think of you and at first I’m happy. I remember that I have a daughter that I gave birth to. A part of me out there. Then I see you. I remember what I actually made, and that’s what stops me form loving you. How could I ever love something like you? Look at yourself. You’re like a walking disease. Everywhere you go misfortune follows. How’d it feel to have your boyfriend beat you to a pulp?” My head starts spinning again. “Oh, you didn’t think I knew?” She laughs without any emotion. “I know everything baby. I know how he broke you and beat you. You know why he did that?” I meet her eyes. “Because you’re disgusting. You’re unlovable babe. You’re a scared little kid with their little hand out hoping somebody will take it. Nobody is going to take it, though. You’ll spend your whole life standing there with your little hand out. Begging anybody to make it hurt just a little less. You did the same thing with your father. Always there asking him to help you. I’m scared daddy. Tuck me in dad. Kiss me goodbye dad. Love me dad.” She grabs a bowl off the counter and throws it at me. It shatters inches from my feet, and I feel something wet drip down my calf. “All you did was suck the life out of that man.”

“Speak for yourself. You were the one who drained him of everything he had.”

“Then why did he die on your birthday?” I take a step away from her. “Oh yeah, didn’t think I’d say it huh? Your dad was struggling before you, but as soon as you came it was worse. You made it harder on him. He killed himself, and it’s all your fault. I’d still have my husband if you didn’t make him commit suicide. He died because you’re a selfish little leech.” She screams across the space at me. She grabs the stack of plates on the counter and throws them to the ground. “You killed him.” She rushes over and digs her fingernails into my skin. I don’t pull away, and I don’t step away. I stare her in the eyes while she spits in my face. “You’re the reason he’s dead, and I never want you to forget it. Always remember that what happens in life is because of you. You bring your own fate and the things that happen in it. You’re what’s wrong with you and you can never change that. You tied that rope around his neck when you spoke your first word.” She slides her hand off my arm making little streaks of blood.

She stumbles back over to the counter. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days.” She finally says after putting something in her mouth.

“Can’t afford it.”

“Good, you look better like that. I prefer seeing you like that. You’re prettier when you look like you’re dying.”

“Glad I came when you called.” I turn to leave, and she starts laughing. The laugh is loud and clear; it stings my ears.

“Me too. I’ve been holding that in for years and now it’s out there. Now, I don’t have to pretend like I like you. That I don’t blame you for everything around here. Good talk.” She mumbles before going back to the living room. The front door opens behind me and Frank walks in.

“What the fuck is this mess? Is Terry, okay?”

“She’s fine.” I mumble before walking out the door. Why do I ever try to help that bitch? Somewhere in my head I think I tell myself it’ll be different. She was awful yesterday, but maybe today will be different. Maybe one day she’ll stop hating me just because I’m alive. I need to stop being surprised when nothing changes. I try to make myself stop stomping while I leave. I have a long walk, and I don’t want sore legs tomorrow.

I go to the laundry mat and clean Oliver, and I’s clothes. Randy sits in his corner only getting up to steal other’s clothes. A few homeless people ask me for money, and I show them my five-dollar bill. They pat my shoulder and move on. I shuffle back to what I guess is home for now. Neither of George’s parents are home, so I take a small snack from the kitchen. I eat some of their food when they’re not around. I only take a little bit, so they don’t notice. I try to go to bed early, but my brain stays active most of the night. So, instead of sleeping off the anger, I sit and stew in it. When I finally fall asleep for two hours, my brain just keeps playing her words over and over. In my dreams I can admit to myself that I’m not mad because she accused me of killing dad, but because I know she’s right.

That’s not what stops my sleep for the night, though. I drop my bag and the pictures fall out onto the floor. She points to them and says, “See, you did that.” The dark picture sits between us. I don’t know how she can see it so well when I could hardly make it out. I jump awake with the picture of the two bodies laying on the ground in my memory. I recognized the shaggy hair of one of them. They also had the bruises to match. What makes my skin crawl is the one in the back. There’s another person in the back, but the picture is so dark I’m surprised I figured out one. The red ink pops into my head and I jump up to go to the bathroom. When I woke up in the nurse’s office, my hands were cleaned, but I still feel it. I thought it was ink, but what if it wasn’t. The blood covering the floor in the dark picture makes me scrub my hands raw.