Love In Actuality

6: Kyree

Nobody came to visit me in the hospital after Aaron left, and I knew

nobody would. They let me out a few days after but also made me promise to join

a support group. And stay warm. I mentally scoffed at the first request. Doctors

were so naïve. Talking to a bunch of lunatics wasn’t going to help. If anything, it

was probably just going to give me one more reason for suicide. Add it to the list,

right? 

I crawled out of my closet bedroom Sunday morning and tip-toed past

Aunt Elle, who was sleeping off a hangover on the couch. I snatched the keys off

the table by the door and grabbed my flip-flops, even though it was practically the

middle of December. Where I lived, it could have been Christmas and still halfdecently warm, and then the next day it would be a snowstorm. Absolutely

ridiculous. The rusty car I was designated to outside rumbled to life loudly. Nextto it, a shiny new BMW sat, and I contemplated taking it instead. Wake up the

neighborhood with this car, or have Aunt Elle screaming at you…the options sat

on a little balance inside of my head as I decided that waking up the

neighborhood was the lesser of two evils.  The old thing wound through streets. I

checked the time again. Not a surprise, but I was running late.  

Five minutes later, I pulled into the “Happy Living Support Group” parking

lot and parked far away from all the other cars. The building was a contrast of the

name- it was a shabby little house that looked like it was centuries old. I wouldn’t

have been surprised if it really was centuries old.  I felt the need to check behind

my shoulder as I walk-ran to the door. The meeting was taking place in the room

attached to the door. I literally walked in the door and saw a circle of black. Well,

at the very least, this could be potentially entertaining. 

“Welcome! We’re so happy to have you here! You must be Kylie! How

nice to meet you! Why don’t you come sit! Meet the rest of the group!” Every

sentence the overly chipper woman uttered ended in an upbeat note and with a

smile so wide it was a grimace. She seriously annoyed the crap out of me. No

joke. However, to avoid unnecessary conversation, I followed her and plopped

myself down on a couch next to some other girls that were wearing brown, not

black like the others. They seemed like the best choice. I scanned over the

people nonchalantly- they all looked emo and/or goth. Overly-chipper-lady kept

prattling on about how life is beautiful and so are we, but all I could think about

was how out of place I was here. 

The girl next to me slouched lower on the couch and muttered, “If we’re so

beautiful, why am I suicidal?” I almost immediately knew she was talking to me

by the way her eyes rolled slightly to the side of her head and caught mine.