Cadaverous Love

Chapter Thirty-Three

My lungs have always burned with the want of someone to understand me, but I've realized that I can't expect someone to understand me if I don't tell them, if I don't give them something to understand.

"I do think," Mr. Artie says, breaking the silence in my bones, "I think that it's time to tell them." My heart stops. That means reliving everything-again. "I know," he says softly, almost as if he's dreading it as much as me, "it's different to tell people, because you don't know how they're going to react. But it feels better getting it out, doesn't it?"

I nod, "but, Mr. Artie, it doesn't feel out-it's trapped. There's something in my chest that just sits there," I keep something to myself, I don't think he would understand what I'm saying. Maybe he would think I'm crazy, or know I'm crazy. "I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to vomit until it's gone."

"Keep talking and it will vanish, I know it will."

"It always comes back. And it takes so much energy to get rid of again and again."

"But you have to do it. You have to get rid of it again and again, it's the only way." I nod, feeling like its my fault that I'm this way. "Emily, I'm going to call someone to pick you up, okay?" My heart thumps, telling me to say no, but I know I need to tell them eventually.

"Okay." I give him the home number and watch him turn the dial. Holding the phone up to his ear, I hear the almost strange and unfamiliar ring of the phone. Everyone is at work, so I don't expect an answer.

"Hello?" Mr. Artie says, keeping his voice low, and friendly. "I'm in the office here with Emily, this is Mr. Artie, the principal." I hope Sodapop answered instead of Darry.

"Haha, yes," Mr. Artie says, sounding like he's talking to himself, "no, she's not in any trouble, but she did come here to speak with me about... Some rather serious subjects, and I think it's important for her to tell her family."

Family.

"Yes, it would be great if you could come pick her up and bring her home. I understand completely if you can't do so."

Home.

"Alrighty, I'll see you then, sir."

"Who answered?" I can hear the anxiousness in my own voice, "what did he sound like?"

"He sounded to be about your age and was generally soft spoken, and polite."

I heave out a relieved sigh. Sodapop answered. I think I'd rather have Soda answer than Darry because he'll understand, or try to.

"I don't know how I'm going to tell him- tell them. Mr. Artie, what's the true point of telling them anyways?"

"Tell them exactly like you told me, and the point is for you to realize that people do care and people do love you, but you're going to have to stop keeping things secret. You're going to have to stop keeping your life a secret."

I nod. "I understand."

"I know it takes strength, but it's time to worry about yourself instead of everyone else for a little while."

"Thank you, Mr. Artie. For all of this. You deserve more than the pain you're feeling now."

"Well, I sure like to think so."

--

"Hello," Mr. Artie says, getting to his feet and sticking out his hand, "you must be Sodapop," he smiles as they shake hands.

"Hello," Soda sits in the chair next to me, "heya, Em." He smiles but his eyes look into mine with a soft sadness, and an almost pity that leaves cuts across my skin.