I had to bury my head in the pillow so the sound of my sobs didn’t carry down the stairs. I know my mom and she’d have her ears pricked for any little sound coming from my room.
Sometimes I wish she wasn’t so attentive, but then I feel bad. I was her miracle baby after two miscarriages and eighteen years later she still treats me like she’d just brought me home from the hospital.
I think that’s the only reason I hadn’t done something drastic in the last two weeks. But it was getting harder not to. I couldn’t believe it had come to this; that my once sunshiny life had gone to shit.
My phone jingled and I remembered that I hadn’t exited the chat I’d been a part of with my friends for the past two years. I really didn’t need to look but I couldn’t help myself. I should’ve.
Jill: ‘Did you see her run out of school today?’
Casey: ‘Who didn’t? And the best part, Brandon didn’t even seem to notice, he just didn’t care.’
“April: ‘She’s such a dumb bitch for letting him go. And now they’re going to the same school next fall. I wonder where she’s gonna run to then.’
A long line of LOLs followed from everyone on chat. Everyone would be Jill, Casey, April and Beth, my friends. That lonely feeling came back tenfold and I felt the shakes coming on.
I read some more of what they had to say, wondering if they knew that I was there and was doing it for my benefit. I couldn’t believe some of the things they said, some of the names they called me.
These were supposed to be my friends. I’ve known them since middle school. They were supposed to know me better than anyone and yet, they were the first to turn on me.
I pushed the phone under the other pillow out of sight and tried closing my eyes, as if that would make it all go away.
I ignored the constant ding of my phone too hurt to see any more of what my friends thought of me.
Just a month ago I was the most popular girl in school. I had the most stable home life, wore the best clothes and was the only one of my friends who got a new luxury car for her birthday at sixteen.
Everyone else had to go to the used car lot to get midrange models while my daddy had spoilt his little princess with a Mercedes Cabriolet.
I couldn’t even find joy in any of the things that I had once found so exciting. My car, my new Gucci bag mom had got me for doing well on my SATs, or the fact that I had got into the Ivy League school of my choice, where my sexy boyfriend would also be attending.
“Oh no, I can’t.” I flew off the bed and into my en suite bathroom to throw up air again. It hurt so much, like the worst period cramps, a migraine and nausea all rolled into one.