Linda's Story

More To The Cuts

A/n TW: self harm, talks of self harm, mentions of still birth and miscarriage

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Linda wasn't sure what was wrong, she just felt... off, foreign, out of place. She was doing well in school- getting all A's, so school wasn't the problem. Tony and Marni were arguing again, but they always argued, so that wasn't it. Maybe that was it, though; Tony hadn't really been acting like a father towards her recently. He acted like she was an inconvenience more than anything else.

"It's all my fault," Linda wrote in her diary. She wasn't a religious diary writer, but she did write when she didn't know how she felt. She played her guitar- a Christmas present from her grandmother when she turned thirteen- but she didn't feel like playing music. "I don't know what I did, but it has to be my fault. He doesn't act that way towards Jimmy, or Wendy, even though Wendy is moving out of the house in August. And of course, Jimmy is his perfect Angel who can't do anything wrong."

She felt unwanted, unloved. It was as if everyone started hating her as soon as she got her period, three years ago. That was when Jimmy stopped hanging out with her; that was when Tony and Marni's relationship started to go sour. That was when Tony really started to stay out of the house at nights. That was about the time Marni "quit" her job and found work as a cocktail waitress. That was when Wendy decided her baby sister was too annoying and too emotional and too... lame to be seen together.

Linda rubbed her eye, feeling lower than a bug under a brick. She started to cry, and as she turned the page, she got a paper cut. She hissed for only a second, before realizing that it almost felt good.

That was how she started to intentionally hurt herself. She called it "a bad habit". For years no one knew about it; but then the years were finished, and one kind man noticed and decided to take some action.

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It was a week after she had lost her baby. The baby she and Danny were so excited for never had a chance to be in the real world. They were both devastated, but Linda took it the hardest. She saw it as it was her fault baby Ella was born without a heartbeat. She couldn't take care of her baby, and now she was never going to be a mother... not ever. She didn't know how she could grieve someone that much who she didn't even get to meet. She felt numb and empty all over; she felt like a failure.

How could she be so careless? What had she done to lose the baby? She cut off little Ella's oxygen supply somehow- that's why she wasn't breathing. If Ella didn't get the chance to be a healthy, beautiful person, then Linda wouldn't allow herself that chance.

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She hadn't done it in years. The last time she did it was when Danny was in Fallujah, and there had been an attack on American soldiers. She had been so scared that she was going to end up a widow before she was even married. The only way she knew how to be grounded again was to cut herself.

Linda stared at the green razor in her hand, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. She felt as if it would thump It's way right out of her chest. She closed her eyes, bit her lip, and sliced the inside of her ankle. She did it again and again until white dots appeared in her vision and she felt dizzy. She watched the blood flow into the tub, and immediately started crying. Danny was going to be so mad at her if he found out.... which he would never do, if Linda had it her way. She was going to have it her way- if he asked, she'd tell him the razor was dull. She had accidentally sliced her skin when she was fifteen- the razor had been extremely dull, and she hadn't acquired a new one.

She felt faint and light headed as she stood to get some bandaids. She told herself it was nothing to worry about- she had stood up too fast many a time and had felt faint without actually fainting. She had only ever fainted once in her life, and that was when she was getting blood taken. She must not have been eating or drinking well that week- Danny had promptly freaked out and had driven her to the nearest Italian restaurant where he stared at her until she had stuffed her face with the carb-filled pasta.

Linda chewed her lip as she tossed the bandaid packaging away. What would she tell Danny? One of her half-truths would work, or the half truth. She had been shaving with a dull razor. That was true- mostly... mainly... not at all; but he wasn't to know that. She decided to get out of the bathroom before she grabbed the razor and started slicing her other ankle. (She supposed that was strength, but she didn't feel strong).

**********

"I'm worried about Linda, Mom."

Linda overheard Danny on the phone a day later. She discreetly creeped up the hall, and stood ramrod still as she eavesdropped. She wished she could have heard Mary's side of the conversation...

"She's taking the stillbirth really hard, and I don't blame her but... I think she might be hurting herself."

She held her breath as silence followed for a few moments. What would Mary think of her now that it's known she's still hurting herself?

"Well... she's not eating, not really... I... can't tell you that."

Can't tell her what? Can't tell her about Linda being a psychopath who couldn't function without causing pain to herself?

"Mom, I promised Linda I wouldn't tell. Therefore I can't tell you.... I'm going to... okay, bye." He hung up and sighed, wondering what he was going to say to his wife. "Come on in, Linda. I know you were listening."

"I was not!" She protested, coming into the room.

"You want to show it to me?"

Her stance stiffened, and she crossed her arms. "Show you what?"

His voice was quiet as he clarified, "where you cut yourself."

She was silent for a beat. "What are you talking about?"

"Linda," his voice was in a warning tone.

She cleared her throat, "I don't know what you're talking about." Now she was lying to him? It had been a stellar day for her so far.

"Linda!" He raised his voice, his patience running thin.

She flinched, wanting to stand her ground, but knowing she would regret it if she did. Danny didn't hit her like her Dad did, but he had other ways. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "it's... on my ankle."

"The same place as it was before?"

She nodded, feeling stupid as the tears came. "Why? Why?! Why did she have to die?"

Danny pulled her into a hug, "I don't know, Linda. I ask myself the same question. I don't know why Ella had to die, but she did. And you can't blame yourself for it."

"Yes I can," her voice was mumbled against his shoulder.

"No, sweetheart, you can't." His voice was firm.

"But-"

He popped her on her butt, "no buts. You can't keep... punishing yourself for something that was totally out of your control."

"But-"

"No, Linda, stop!" He pulled back to look her in the eye. "You're not going to punish yourself for this. Is that clear?"

The look in Linda's eyes was heartbreaking, and the cracks of her voice absolutely shattered Danny's heart. "How?"

"Call Brie tomorrow. She'll talk to you."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Linda crumbled, and Danny didn't hesitate to hold her again. He spent the rest of the day with her, reassuring her she wasn't at fault for any part of the stillbirth. It would take many years and a hospital trip to convince her to wasn't her fault.