Elliot left again after hearing my response and after some time he came back. “They said I should stay with you until she arrives.” He tells me as he cautiously stands by the door.
I nod as I couldn't bring myself to look at him.
We were quiet again before Elliot spoke. “What was going through your mind?" He asked me curiously. “You sat down for a second and that made you sick.”
I shook my head as I tried to find the words to explain before I finally turned to him. “The things I feel... Everyone…” I tried to say before giving up and tried to find a new way to explain it. “You know that feeling when you don’t know how to swim and you feel the floor beneath you until suddenly it's gone. That comfort feeling that you can stand suddenly feels like you're drowning and you can’t breathe anymore because you're beginning to panic as if your throat is being squeezed making it hard for you to breathe. It feels like no one is going to save you…” I tell him. “And you see their hands wanting to help you but your eyes only see them as pushing you down deeper into the shallow water…”
After I said those words it was quiet again between us and I wiped away my tears.
“I don’t know if that makes sense… Maybe I didn’t explain it well.” I said as I turned away from him and I rubbed my forehead feeling a headache. “I'm so tired of it.”
“Michael…” Elliot opened his mouth before closing it like he didn't know what else to say.
“You don't have to pretend to be my friend anymore. It's obvious that you're only watching over me because they asked you.” I tell him.
“I wasn't pretending. I meant it when I said that I want to be friends.” He said, quickly. “I just didn't know that that's how you felt... the fact that you've been struggling like that for so long…”
“Yeah, struggling for what? I’m going to be like this for the rest of my life. How long am I going to let myself be trapped like this?” I told him, feeling angry now. “Do you know how horrible I feel hearing my mom cry every time I have an episode like today? I hate seeing her struggle as much as I hate myself.”
Elliot reached out to me before he slowly lowered his hands. “You can't say that about yourself,” he says.
“Why not? It's true. And please don't start with the whole ‘you can get past this’, ‘you'll get better’. All of that is bullshit.” I tell him.
“Michael,” Elliot called my name, sounding a little disappointed.
“What? I've heard it so many times. I tried getting help but nothing works and I'm so sick of those therapists acting like they know my struggle.” I said as I felt my face growing hot with anger. "They don't. How can they even know what I'm going through if you don't understand it.”
“Michael, what happened to you that made you like this?” Elliot asked as he reached his hand out again and slowly held my arm.
I froze as I looked at his hand. “Let go," I said quietly before I tried to shake my arm out of his hold. “Let go of me.”
“You can tell me and maybe I can help,” he asked as he kept his hold on me.
“Stop! Please, let go.” I said with my voice rising, and I still try to fight against his hold.
“Not until you calmed down.” He retorts.
I felt my chest tighten as I pulled my arm away with my whole body before feeling out of breath again. “No! Don't touch me!" I said, beginning to yell. “Stop!”
With the last strength that I had in me, I pulled my arm out of his hold and I stumbled back falling to the ground backing away from him; afraid that he'd grab me again. The door swung open as Ms. Lang entered to see the commotion and it must not have been a good sight to see because she had a furious expression as she looked from me to Elliot. She asked Elliot to step out and left me alone until my mom arrived. It took me a couple of minutes to step out of the bathroom and to walk down the hall avoiding anyone’s gaze. After finally stepping out of the school grounds and sitting comfortably in my mom's car; I finally let myself cry again. I cried as my mom wrapped her arms around me and I know that I didn’t do my best as I wanted.
“I'm sorry.” I finally said between tears as she let go of my head.
“Honey, you don't need to apologize,” she tells me.
“But I wanted to do this. I wanted to go in and have a normal day, but I couldn't.” I said between tears. “Why can't I do this?”
My mother shook her head as she brushed her fingers over my cheeks to wipe my tears. “The world out there isn't as dangerous as it was before. I wish you could see that someday,” she tells me, softly. “You just need to find a way to accept everything that's happened to you.”
I shook my head, “I don't think I can. How can I when I remember everything that happened? I relive it every day.”
I can hear my mom beginning to cry and I hugged her this time. “I'm sorry.”
“It's not your fault,” I tell her.
“But I wasn't there for you. I left and have all that happened to you,” she said between tears.
“Mom, you're here now. I don't blame you for any of this. I forgive you.” I told her and I know deep down I had blamed her, but not for what happened that changed me.
During the drive home, it was silent as Mom had nothing else to say and I didn’t want to talk more about what happened. I was exhausted so I went to lay down on my bed after coming home and I closed my eyes hoping to fall asleep. I just want this day to end, but I don't want tomorrow to begin. I don't want to start a new day or even try going to school either. Elliot was only trying to help yet he did everything that I couldn't handle, but I don't blame him either. I want to blame him, but it wasn’t exactly his fault because he doesn’t know what escalated my anxiety. I sighed as I got up walking to the restroom and closed the door behind me as I played some music from my phone while I leaned over the counter. I looked at myself in the mirror before opening the cabinet taking out a bag that hid a small blade and I sat down on the toilet as I took a few breaths starring it. I haven't cut myself for almost a year and there have been a few times where I sat down with the blade in my hand and remind myself that I stopped after moving in with my mom, but I couldn't stop right away at first so I left some scars on my thighs instead; where she can't see it.
I couldn't bring myself to stop until one day she found the blade and her reaction was what stopped me completely. I sigh heavily, finally putting the blade back in the bag and I knew at some point I would have to throw it away so I wouldn’t be tempted. I washed my face before returning to my room to lay down on my bed trying to drift off to sleep. I skipped school the next day, I didn't even bother getting out of bed when my mom knocked on the door and saw I wasn’t getting myself ready. Why should I go back after what happened; after I embarrassed myself; after I reminded myself that I am not normal.
“Honey, I'm home.” My mother knocked on my door again in the evening after getting home from work. “I'm going to make dinner... Are you hungry?”
It took me a second to speak, feeling a bit dazed since I slept more than half the day. “No. I ate earlier.” I lied.
There was a long silence before she spoke again. “Okay, but I'll leave you a plate in the microwave if you get hungry later.” She tells me.
“Alright,” I replied as I closed my eyes.
“Are you going to school tomorrow?” She asked.
“Can I not?” I said opening my eyes to look at the clock on my bed-stand table reading five o'clock in the evening.
“You have to eventually, dear.” She answered. “You can't stay in your room like this. You have to try and go back. Go, study, and learn.”
I pulled the covers over my shoulders. “Mom…” I called.
“Yeah?”
“I love you,” I said as loudly as I could so she can hear.
"I love you too, honey." She replied.