Second Chance

Revealing

        I can't describe it. Being dead is almost like being the third wheel. You exist but they don't notice that you're there. Lingering around in the shadows, corners of rooms, anywhere where they won't notice you. When they see you, they scream and run, like you're a monster. Afraid you're going to haunt them, and all that other stereotypical stuff. Yeah, being a ghost is fantastic.

        My visit with Liam was just amazing. Being with him was refreshing. I expected him to be handsome, like a shiny new toy girls would fight for. He hasn't changed since he was 10, of course. It's kind of adorable.

        I tried to connect to him after that, but for some reason, I couldn't. I kept trying to connect to him, but of course, nothing happens. It made me feel drained, more than usual at least. Ever since I visited, I've had this connection with Liam. Don't get me wrong, our friendship was great. Everyone thought we were dating because we were so close. He helped me through so much. Through all of my rainy days. Liam was -is- a saint. 

        I was always the girl who was independent. I never needed a man to ‘save’ me. Whatever I was going through, I pulled through fine on my own. If I wanted to cry I would just go in my room and say I have a lot of homework. Don’t get me wrong, it’s always good to talk to someone, but if I talked to anyone at all about this, it was Liam, of course.“Always the social butterfly”, my mom would say. My grades were always good, the lowest average being a B+. People always thought I was the girl who could lighten anyone’s mood, there for anyone ever needed me. 

Then one day, I broke. 

        It was like I just completely shattered into a million pieces. After my parents fighting everyday, people starting to bully me at school because I wore a band T-shirt, my grades slipping, I was just so stressed out. I was obsessed with my weight. Everyday I would go to the scale, and look at it disgusted. 129.7 pounds. Every girl in my school was stick thin, pretty and perfect. I thought that if I put on makeup, lost weight, and liked everything that they like, the bullying might stop. You’d think it would actually get better, but no. It got worse. Much worse. I still remember that day. The day when I cut myself for the first time. I was 15. I was getting bullied at school, parents were fighting, I hated myself, and I was just falling apart. The pain was just too much. I saw the blood, a deep deep red gushing from my wrist. I was in my bathroom crying, and I remembered that Liam was coming over today to work on a science fair project. I really do have a thing for bad timing. The thud of the door crescendoed through the whole house making it shake. I remember him barging in shouting my name. When he found me in the bathroom I was sitting in a pool of blood. I watched it expand underneath me, admiring it’s color. I never knew how seductive the color of blood was. The deepness of red, like a wine. 

"Oh my god. What the hell were you thinking??" He was shaking violently and his voice would crack every time he tried to speak.

 I wiped away a tear from his face as he hovered over me. "It's gonna be okay."

"No. You are not going anywhere. I'm taking you to the hospital. I can't lose you."

"No, don't take me to the hospital."

"I'm taking you the hospital whether you like it or not."

        He was hysterical at this point. Liam tries to be ‘Mr. Tough guy’. You know, all cool and everything else. Very rarely do you see him break down like this. It’s almost like you are being pushed by something strong, something that you can’t see. 

        He held me in his arms, and carried me out to his car. I could feel myself slipping away, and he could see it too. The color draining from my face, my eyes barely opened. My eyelids heavy like a stack of bricks. Once Liam got me to the hospital everything started to settle down. The nurses stopped the bleeding and gave me fluid. One of the nurses, Aurélie, I think her name was, said that she was going to take some blood for the blood bank and give me a transfusion, to replace what I had lost, and get started on my vitals.