Second Chance

“We have no idea what’s wrong with her,” I heard my mother’s jagged breath catch. “She won’t talk to us at all. She isn’t even taking her medication anymore.” The shrink continued to make notes on his damning yellow notepad. He nodded at my parents, ending the two-hour torture session. I was done ‘talking’ to shrinks. They never helped anyway. I doubt it if they even listened to me. I was just a crazed teen girl who might commit suicide; and that alone would disturb the perfect social balance with which we all live in. My mother didn’t move from her upholstered chair. My father had begun to move, but he watched her intently. They barely ever looked at me anymore. I was a problem they couldn’t face.

            “We’ll have another meeting tomorrow at six o’clock p.m.” The shrink said. His eyes were filled with sorrow, even I could see that, but my mother exploded.

            “Why can’t you fix her now?” She grabbed my shoulders and shook me in front of the man. His eyes bulged at the sight of me. I was a lurking shadow. If I saw me, I ‘d scream.

            “Loretta, come on. He’s doing all he can.” I felt like a moving target as I walked out of the building. I wanted to take the back exit; I wanted to get away from here. The car ride home was silent, as always.

            “Baby girl, I’m sorry they can’t fix you. I will find a way to make this better.” She suffered from severe depression just like I did. She always told me she understood what was going on in my head because she had been there, but I was sure she didn’t understand this; this was different.

            ‘Okay’ and a muffled ‘thanks’ was all I had to say. If I kept my mouth open too long, all of the terrors of my mind would come spilling out onto the floor, like a gutted human. My guts would be spilled. I couldn’t risk that.

            Once we were home, I jumped out of the car and ran around the house. My parents didn’t follow me anymore. When I went running, they thought I was relieving some stress, or ‘getting better’ as they put it. Well, it was neither. Sure, the friction underneath my Vans and the wind in my hair gave me a little freedom, but it didn’t ‘make me better’. I was too far gone.

            Behind my house was a forest and inside this forest was an abandon tree house. I went there whenever things were getting to be too much, which they always were. Luckily for me, Peyton was out there today.

            “Hey, stranger.” I think I smiled and he waved in my direction. We embraced. It was something he and I were doing more often. He was very worried about me.

            “How did the session go today?”

            “More questions and even less answers. Mom freaked out. We left.” I had sat down in the grass cross-legged. He sat down in front of me.

            “You’re going to have to open up to them, Morgan.” I pulled another blade of grass.

            “What if I don’t want to? What if they really can’t help me? What if I stay like this forever?” Only around him, did I open up. It kind of got to me sometimes. I felt bad for dumping everything on him, all at one time, everyday.

            “Come on! This is not the girl I became best friends with two years ago! You are stronger than this. This is NOT you.” I looked in his hazel eyes and prayed.

            “You’re the only one who understands me.” I cried. He pulled me to his side and let me cry on his shoulder.

            “Shush, shush, it’s going to be okay. I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. It wasn’t fair of me.” He smoothed my hair.

            “Why does everyone treat me like a baby?” I whispered. I knew what his answer would be. The question was meant to be rhetorical.

In the next minute, rain started falling from the sky.

“Look, I have to get home and take care of Jamie.”

“Yeah, yeah I understand. Try to call me tonight, okay?”

“I will.” We separated without another word, but this night he looked back at me and smiled. I tried smiling back at him. It was half way pulled off. I stumbled back to the house and slipped in the back door. My parents always had this thing for going to bed super early, but now they were passing out even earlier. As messed up as I was, I worried about them. What if my problems killed them?         

            I was never one to jump to conclusions, but that night when I went to sleep, something didn’t feel right. I took the bat from the garage and slept with it, just in case. Hours later, I was up screaming, seeing demons and dead people and everything else I had managed to be afraid of in the last years of my life.

            My mother came running up the stairs, and this time I was glad to see her. She was sane, she wasn’t covered in blood and when I hugged her back, she was smiling and crying happy tears.

            “Baby girl, they will fix you. This won’t continue and then you can go back to all of your friends. You’ll be able to play soccer in the street with Peyton and draw butterflies and collect your keys.” She smoothed my hair, looking down at me. What had I done to her? Wait, Peyton… My nightmare was coming back to me.

            “Peyton! Where is he?” I scrambled out of my bed, slipping on my Vans.

            “Loretta…?” my fathers’ sleepy voice echoed down the hall.

            “I’ll be right back. I promise!” I darted down the stairs and ran out the door, tripping over the threshold on my way out.

            “Peyton!” I yelled into the black trees. He was in danger. My dreams were telling me so. I pulled out my cell phone and called him.

            “Morg…?” I heard him yawn.

            “You have got to get down to my house, do you hear me? Hurry!”

            “Morgan, what’s wrong?” He sounded paranoid.

            “Get Jamie out of there. You’re in danger.” I hung up the phone and sprinted faster. If I didn’t hurry, he was going to die.

            I couldn’t see as I ran through the woods. I was blinded by my own fear. I whipped a tear away. The wind was running with me at my back. It was loud and furious. When it died down, I could hear a second pair of footsteps. I didn’t have time to stop before I ran smack dab into whatever was in front of me. Jamie screamed as she fell.

            “Jamie?” She jumped into my arms and I hugged her with all my might. Little tears rolled down her cheek.

            “Morgan? I’m right here.” He caught my fumbling hand and helped pick me up. Jamie was clinging to my neck for dear life.

            “It’s okay, baby. It’ll be okay.”

            “Why in the world did you drag us out of here?” He started walking away, but I didn’t move. In three, two, one… a huge mushroom cloud of smoke and fire erupted from his house. The blast scared both him and Jamie, but I knew it was coming.

            Peyton stuttered, “Is that why you got us… I mean, you knew that was going to happen?” I couldn’t see him in the dark, but I found his arm, grabbed it, and guided him back to my house. I yelled for my mom as we got close to the back door. She flung it open and wrapped all three of us in a hug.

            “Get in this house. All of you.”

            As I explained my dreams and terrors to my mother, the reasons I was going crazy, the reason they were dying inside, I held Jamie and looked in her eyes. It all seemed easier to say out loud if I knew she was watching me. Her innocent little soul wouldn’t let me lie.