Behind every mean girl...there's a tragedy

Mind your own business

"When am I going to get out of here?" I ask my mom who's sitting in a couch by the window in her usual Mrs. Reel uptight attire.

"When the doctor says it's okay."

"I feel fine. I don't know why I have to stay in here," I argue. I want to get out of here but I don't feel fine at all. I just want to get away from all of the constant questionings. Those people really don't get the words "leave me the hell alone." They even have a psychiatrist visiting me every day now.

They were all accidents for God's sake!

The only good thing that came out of that accident is that it had put a temporary tape over Sarah and Kenny's mouth. They're quiet but I can still hear the small groans and inaudible whispers. I can't begin to imagine what would happen if I start talking to myself and one of them happens to come inside the room. I would be screwed for life. At least now, they all think that someone else has been hurting me instead of myself.

"Dr. Shaw said that they still need to observe you for a few more days before they can send you home. You were hit by a truck, Rachel. You're lucky to be alive."

"Thank you for reminding me, mother. I had completely forgotten about that one," I say sarcastically.

"Stop that," she sighs, her face taking the allure of a desperate woman. "I really am trying to understand you but you're not giving me a lot to go on with, Rachel."

"Have you ever wondered that it might be on purpose?"

She approaches me, her hand hinting that she wants to touch me but she retreats, afraid that I may break with the slightest touch.

"I was only trying to be a good mother. I don't know where I have failed." She sobs in her hands.

"You want me to give you the list?" I huff out.

She cries harder at my words instantly filling me up with guilt, "I'm sorry, mom. I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did. You've made it pretty clear that you think I'm a horrible mother." She retrieves a white handkerchief from her designer handbag and dab the tears at the corner of her eyes.

"Mom, please stop that. I'm just cranky because I've been in a hospital dying of pain for an entire month but none of my supposed friend had the courtesy to come visit me." I try to lift up her spirit by shutting mine down. To be honest, I don't care that nobody's here. The less people the better it is for me. Besides, Cassie is the only one I can consider a friend even though I know I'm not one to her.

"One of them came."

That news startles me. Was it Brandon? It must have been Brandon. He's the only one who cares enough. Please, let it be Brandon.

"Who?" I ask straining my voice to not sound overexcited.

"That little white girl who's always running behind you everywhere. She came the first few weeks while you were still out of it."

Great, Cassie. I should have known better than to expect him to show up. He doesn't want to be my friend anymore and somehow I have to stop wishing. My heart continues to hold on unto that little thread of hope, "Oh, just her then?"

"Yes, were you expecting someone else?"

"Not really," I admit. She takes out a miniature mirror from her oversized bag and begin to recheck her make up.

"Mom?" I call.

"Yes, honey?" She doesn't bother to tear her eyes away from her reflection.

"That's the fifth time you've checked your makeup in the past half hour. Why?"