If Fire Was A Lover

January 5th, 2021

I laid in my bed for over 24 hours. I hadn't even gotten up to eat. I went to the bathroom a couple times, but it took all of the energy that I had. I spent entirely too much time with myself, thinking about Logan. I couldn't tell anyone about him because I couldn't think about him without making him out to be a bad person. It was easy to make him seem like a bad person, but that was just as much my fault as it was his. I wasn't a victim, because Logan wasn't a predator. He couldn't be, not him. And if he really was bad for doing what he did to me, then I was just as bad, if not worse. Because I let him do it all, I even liked some of it. There's no sugarcoating the situation, it was bad. But I couoldn't blame it all on him. It just wouldn't be fair. If he was guilty at all then so was I. Shame wrapped itself around my throat until I couldn't breathe. I pulled at the skin on my neck, hoping for relief, hoping for air, commanding my lungs to work. They finally did. I gasped for air and sat up quickly.

My eyes searched my bedroom, looking for relief anywhere I could find it. I had to do something before it happened again. I had to fix it, all of it. I had to fix me and fix him and fix us. I went to my desk and grabbed both of my pill bottles and my water that had been sitting for a week. I took as many as I could and chugged them down with water. Then I took one of of my razors from the box under my desk and I ran upstairs to lock myself in the bathroom. Mom and dad were gone, so was my brother Connor, it was just me. There was nobody left to stop me, nobody. I wanted someone to stop me, but there was nobody there. I fought with myself on whether or not to do it, and I don't really know if you can win a battle like that. I felt the pills begin to take over, my eyes glossed over and everything around me spun. I started to push the blade into my skin when I heard the front door open and the dogs started barking. I fell on the floor and started sobbing. I heard my mom running up the stairs.

"Liz, Liz honey what's wrong?" She yelled. I screamed, unable to tell her in words. There are no words in the English language that I would've screamed to justify my pain. Her footsteps got closer and she messed with the door until it opened.

"No, no, no, baby no," She started crying. She picked me up onto my feet and looked into my eyes. "Baby girl, what did you take? What did you talke honey? Liz! Answer me please!" I shrugged in response. She cried and carried me to the car. She kept asking me questions on the way to the hospital to keep me focused on staying awake.

"I just don't understand why, you've been doing so much better! I thought you were doing better," She shook her head, I could tell she was starting to blame herself. I wanted to tell her so badly. I wanted to hold her and tell her that she was a wonderful mom, that she hadn't done anything wrong at all, that I had messed up and that I caused this pain for myself. But I didn't say a word to her, I couldn't.

"It's not your fault, momma." I told her. It was all I could manage to say without saying it all. The city lights were just blurs in the window was we passed through town racing to the ER.

Connor and my dad were in the waiting room when we got there. Connor looked horrified, like he'd been crying for days on end. It was so strange seeing him like that, I couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried. I wish our family wasn't so weird about crying in front of each other. A lot of things wouldv'e been better if we had all cried together. Dad looked drunk, as per usual. It wasn't his fault, he didn't know his daughter was going to have an episode and try to get herself off of this earth. I'm sure I make him sound worse than he is, he's honestly a good guy. He's just also an alcoholic. The clerk had me lay down on a bed and rolled me into the back part of the hospital. It smelled like rubbing alcohol and vanilla candles. I passed doctors and nurses on the way to my room. It was hard to stay awake but I knew I had to or they'd all freak our and make me do a bunch of tests. I didn't want tests, I didn't want help, I just wanted to go home.

A lady came  into the room and started hooking up an I.V. She was very quick.

"Alright honey, I'm gonna be your nurse. My name is Mikayla. I'm just getting your I.V hooked up so we can get you some fluids, okay?" She gave me a reassuring nod and stuck the needle in. I flinched and shut my eyes tight. "Do you know your name?" She asked me.

"Elizebeth Barsness." I said quietly.

"Okay Elizebeth, can you tell me what you took? Your mom said she saw lots of pills." The nurse said and connected my I.V to a water bag. She moved my hair off of my chest and stuck little stickers beneath my collarbones before connecting them to wires.

I told her the medication name and how much I took and what time I took it. A doctor came in and drew some of my blood. The results came back okay so she told me that the pills hadn't caused any fatal damage, that I'd just be dizzy for a while longer. Apparently that wasn't all that mattered though, I had to be checked out by a specialist. The nurse told me that since I took the pills and hurt myself on purpose that it was likely I'd be placed. My heart sank in my chest and at that moment I realized just how badly I messed up. This wasn't a small thing, this was huge. I almost died. I traumatized my brother, my mother, my father. These nurses and doctors saw a girl much too young covered in marks that she gave herself. They'd probably remember that for the rest of their lives. It was a small town, they were probably parents of my classmates. By the time my eyes had stopped spinning my head had just begun. That's when I realized there is no easy way out, that there isn't a way out at all. Logan could still have me. And I knew that I would let him.

A short curvy woman came in the room. She had dark skin and bright red lips. She wore black pants and a plain black shirt. I noticed her "pride" tattoo and smiled, knowing she was going to be sweet. She sat down in the chair beside my bed.

"Hey Elizebeth, I'm Erin Chay. I'm a specialist from Crystal Lake psychiatric hospital. I don't want to scare you or make you nervous so I'll just say this; I'm going to ask you some questions and I need you to answer them very honestly." She said nicely. I nodded.

She asked pretty basic questions, I told her what she wanted to hear, and the hospital let me go home. Connor rode home with mom and I and kept telling me how much he loved me and I pinky promised him never to do something like this again. The car ride was painful. It hurt more than anything. I hurt them so bad, and I couldn't tale it back. I was full of guilt so I tried to fix it by making myself even more guilty. Something had to be wrong with me. When we pulled into the driveway dad wasn't there yet, he probably took the long route. If I were in his shoes I woulv'e done the same thing. I'm sure everyone needs time to think right now. I went into my room and mom prayed with me before I fell asleep. She caressed my back gently and told me about the day I was born and how wonderful she felt when she held me in her arms for the first time. She told me I was born with perfect hands, long, white nails, and the most captivating blue eyes she'd ever seen. I cried silently. She kissed my cheek and went upstairs to her room. I had to go to bed early, I had school the next day. So I'd sleep, I'd wake up, and the I'd go to school. It would be like none of this ever happened, like it was all some kind of fever dream.

I guess I had learned my lesson about trying to get out of situations that I had gotten myself into in the first place. I went to Logan's house. I sat on Logan's bed. I kissed him back. I liked kissing him back. I made the sounds I knew he wanted to hear, just like when I was talking to the nurse. I let him do everything he did. I certainly didn't stop him, I didn't stop any of it. God was telling me it was too late to stop it. I couldn't even kill myself to get out of it. No amount of pills in the world could come between Logan and I. He knew what he wanted and he knew he was going to get it. I should've listened to his family, to Elaine, to all of the other girls. I wanted to hear them out but there was something in his eyes that made me forget everything they'd said. He knew his power. I was so upset that my heart was still beating because I knew it was still beating for him. I knew it would take control of my body and walk right over to his house again. I was craving a love story, and I told myself that's what it was. I had to tell myself that. If it wasn't a love story, it was a tragedy, and I couldn't accept that, I refused to.