Revive Me (29 page)

Dawson and my parents had thrown all of the alcohol out of the house, so that wouldn’t be a problem. I shivered at the thought of throwing all of my razors out. There was no way I was refraining from shaving. No freaking way. I’d deal. I’d fight with myself every time if I had to, and this time, I’d make sure I won. Then there was Reese. I hadn’t talked to him since that night, and I didn’t feel the need to reach out to him. My blood boiled just thinking about him.

I took one last look at the sky before resting my legs on the porch and stopping the swing. Dawson told me he loved me. I knew he ended the letter he’d given me with it, but that wasn’t the same. People sign birthday cards with love, they tell people they love them at the closing of a letter, but there’s something different about hearing it in person. It felt more gratifying. I’d read the words, but emotions didn’t fly through them. But when he said it, the words actually falling from his lips, my entire heart had been lifted, and I truly believed it. I loved him, too. I’d lie in bed for years wondering what it would feel like to hear him tell me that. It was better than I’d imagined.

But now, I felt like I didn’t deserve his love. I’d accused him of using me. I’d accused him of wanting to be with me, so he wouldn’t lose my family. But I was wrong. Dawson had no family, and I knew losing us was killing him. It wasn’t about him being alone; it was about being surrounded by the people he loved.

I pushed my feet down and rose up from the swing while keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around my body as I walked inside. Derrick was sitting on the couch, and a movie was playing on the TV.

“Hey Sis, wanna join me?” He asked, looking back at me over the couch. “This is the part where the zombie eats the guy’s brain. It’s awesome.” He looked at me with excitement like that was the best image he’d ever seen.

“As much fun and not gruesome as that sounds, I’m going to head to bed. I’ve had a long day.”

He nodded in understanding, and I realized how much he’d grown in the past year. Not just physically, but mentally. My baby brother was maturing into a grown man.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “I’m expecting a good breakfast. Dawson has been feeding me frozen pizzas and hot wings all week.”

“And you have a problem with that?”

“Eh, it’s cool at first, but a guy can only have so many slices of pizza before he starts sneezing out pepperonis.”

“Okay, that’s sick,” I said, holding my hand up and curling my lip. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I grabbed my bag sitting by the staircase and walked upstairs to my bedroom. I flipped the light on and looked from side to side. I changed, set my bag down on the bed, and then began unpacking its contents. I made it to the bottom of the bag and took a deep breath as every muscle in my stomach tightened. I could do this.

I scooped up all my hygienic products in my arms and carried them into the one room I was terrified of. My bare feet hit the cold tile, and I looked down, expecting to see bright red bloodstains, but there was nothing. I looked at my bathtub and my sink. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. There wasn’t a trace of red residue anywhere. The only remains of the night were in my head.

I dropped the items onto the counter and leaned back against the wall. Images of that night raced through my mind. The hot water surrounding my body, overtaking me, as I stared down at the blood dripping from my wrist and captivating me. Flashbacks began to drift through my mind as the color red slashed through my thoughts and seized my vision. I slumped down against the wall, my legs hitting the cool floor, as the tears fell faster than my trembling hands could wipe them away.

But these tears, they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of relief. They were tears of revival, of me bringing myself back to life. My pain would no longer consume me. I would no longer numb myself. I was done being succumbed. I’d allowed the toxicity of my life to seep out when I’d cut myself, and it’d drained my body clean. I was getting a fresh start.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed as I sat there, staring at the sink in front of me, but I finally rose up and balanced myself against the wall. I pulled the thin elastic out of my hair and ran my hands to loosen my braid. I eyed the fair color of my skin and ran my hand against the smoothness. I was becoming me again. There were still circles under my eyes, but they were fading. I still had a few blemishes near my chin, but that was okay. I didn’t look at the mess of a girl in the mirror now. I just saw me.

I looked down at my wrist as I began to unwrap the thin, white cloth. I’d been changing it twice a day since leaving the hospital. It wasn’t necessary anymore, but I wanted to hide my scars. The new indentations in my skin were harder to hide when they were fresh. I knew I wouldn’t be able hide behind my long sleeves anymore. I winced, still feeling pain from the stitches that had just been taken out, and traced the line of the built up scar tissue. They incisions were small, but I knew they’d always be there. I looked down at the roll of cloth I’d been given, but I ignored it. I was leaving them out tonight.

My legs shook as I undressed and stepped into the shower. I grabbed the razor next to my shampoo, and ran my fingers across the sharp blades. “You helping me was a figment of my imagination,” I whispered against the warm water streaming down my head. I gripped the handle and slowly brought the razor up to my legs. The first swipe was the worst, but the second was more comfortable. When I finished, I tossed the razor to the side, acting like it wasn’t even there anymore.

I twirled my damp hair into a tight ponytail and grabbed my phone before falling down against the comfort of my own sheets. Looking down at it, I noticed a text from Dawson telling me goodnight and sweet dreams. I texted him back with a smile on my face, took the sleeping pills I’d been given, and drifted off to sleep without tossing and turning for hours.

“Rise and shine, sunshine,” Dawson’s deep voice called out, waking me up. My eyes flew open, and I winced at the sunlight flooding my bedroom. I drug my arm above my eyes and groaned.

“Why are you here this early?” I grumbled.

“You have your first therapy appointment today,” he explained, plopping down onto the edge of my bed.

“I know this,” I said in dread. I was hoping maybe if I didn’t set my alarm, I could get out of going to see this new therapist. Would I feel comfortable around her like I had with my other? Or would she think I was a total freak because I’d been in the mental hospital?

“And I’m here to make sure you don’t try to play hooky.” He knew me too well.

I kicked his leg from under my blanket. “I’m not going to play hooky. I’m getting up, so get out.”

He fell down beside me, and I peeked over at him with one eye. He clasped his hands comfortably behind his head and leaned back against my headboard. “Not happening babe, I’m taking you.”

“In case you didn’t know, just because I tried to kill myself doesn’t mean they confiscated my license.”

“You can drive, but I’m still coming with.”

I shoved my face into the pillow. “You know, you seriously suck.”

“I seriously don’t,” he replied, chuckling. His hand smacked the bed. “Now get up, chop chop, we’ve got things to accomplish.”

“Fine, but you’re buying me breakfast.”

“If that’s what it takes, I’ll buy you the whole damn menu.”

I took a quick shower and threw my hair into a ponytail without styling it. I got dressed and walked back into my bedroom to find Dawson lounging on my bed watching TV. I stepped into a pair of boots, and he followed me down the stairs.

“You ready for this?” he asked when we pulled up to the building.

“Do I have a choice?” I took a sip of the hot chocolate before dropping the last bite of a donut into my mouth.

He shook his head. “No, not really. But you never know, you may love it here, this doctor may become your new best friend.”

“What a story to tell. How’d you meet your best friend? Oh, she was my therapist.” I unbuckled my seat belt in the passenger seat. I let him drive because I knew I’d be too nervous to pay attention to the road. “I’ll call you when I’m done.” I latched a clammy hand onto the door handle, and my feet hit the pavement. I circled around the car, and immediately stopped. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m coming in,” he explained, falling in step beside me as I walked to the front door.

“I’m sure you have better things to do.”

He shook his head. “Nope, I lead a pretty boring life, so I figured I’d pass time by staying with you. I’m also conserving gas, saving the environment, going green; it’s the hip thing to do.”

“Whatever, I know you’re doing it so I won’t bail.”

“Yeah, that too,” he said, laughing as he kept up with my speed and followed me into the building. “I’ll stay out of the way, and you can act like I’m invisible.”

“Do you have an answer for everything?” I asked, stepping into the elevator, and he slid in next to me.

“When it comes to you, hell no. You’re the most confusing, unable to find that missing puzzle piece person in the world. But I’d like to think I’m pretty good at solving puzzles. At least that’s what my kindergarten teacher told me.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, but I think she had a crush on me.”

I shoved his arm. “When did you get this annoying?”

The elevator doors opened, and he followed me out. “I’ve been this way forever, you were just blinded by your infatuation with me that you didn’t realize it.”

I snorted. “Okay, now you’re going overboard.”

I knew what he was doing. He was trying to keep me from being nervous. And it was working. He escorted me to the office number I’d been given and opened the door because I was too chicken to do it myself.

“Babe, you got this,” he whispered into my ear, squeezing me gently, and taking an open seat.

I nodded, swallowing the nausea wanting to escape me, and stopped at the front desk. The lady behind it slid the window open. I told her my name, and she handed me clipboard with paperwork attached.

I eyed the waiting room, similar to every other doctor’s office I’d been to, and took a seat next to Dawson. He snatched the clipboard from my hand and held it away from me when I made a grab for it.

“I got it,” he said, patting his hand against my leg. “You just relax.”

“You do know that’s my personal information, right?”

“Yep,” he said, dragging the pen and filling out my name and address. I kept an eye on the form to make sure he was answering everything correctly.

“You even know the medication I’m on?” I asked in annoyance. “You nosy little shit.”

“I do my research. The only thing I don’t know is when you had your last period,” he said, and a tingling swept up my back. “I can’t believe they even need to know that here. Unless it really is true that those things make girls go ape-shit.”

“Okay, give me that back. And we don’t go ape-shit.”

“Just tell me. I’m a big boy. I passed Sex Ed with flying colors. I know girls bleed for a week. It’s strange, but I guess it’s possible.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my legs. “You’re right, but they don’t talk to guys about it.”

“But I’m not just a guy.” The ball of the pen hit the paper. “You’re being awfully cranky, so let’s just say in progress.”

I made a grab for the paper, snatching it before he had the chance to stop me. “Very funny,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him chuckling. I grabbed the pen, filled in the date of question, and signed my name along the dotted line.