Hope

Chapter 4

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2024

A blackout is the worst thing I've ever experienced in my lifetime. It's been the hardest, too. Because how do I atone for the things I don't remember doing? The sickest part, is I have to take responsibility for the things I didn't do. It's my body, my words, my hands. But it's not my conscious. And at 15, how could I atone for abusing two other children? Who were hurting like me? How do I apologize to the plethora of friends that stood by me as I descended into madness, and dragged them along? I can't. And I'll have to live with that forever. For all thats to come, this? I will always have nightmares of that day. no matter how much time has passed. I will always remember. The nightmares will never allow me to forget. I will never allow myself to forget. But It's important to remember most traumagenic disorders only rear their ugly head when pushed to it to defend the mind.

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The next month and a half pass in a blur of soft lighted memories. I spend time with Nathan, which I'd been neglecting, and spread my energy between Sam and Lily, and Mara and Sarah rather evenly. And I feel good—- I feel high, like perhaps, I could knock a building over if I really wanted to. Provided I eat a bit more than I have been, but that wasn't much a worry. Not when I can thrive off of nicotine and sheer energy alone. People had been looking at me oddly-- on account I didn't sleep, and didn't remember the last time I did. My face was showing it more than my eyes could care for.

Manic, someone insignificant had uttered from the percussion section one day when I had spent the better part of an hour trying to stuff myself into instrument cubbies just for fun. I whipped my phone out and googled it, and was confident it did not apply.

man·ic

adjective

     1. relating to or affected by mania

     2. showing wild, apparently deranged, excitement and energy.

Yes, that was ridiculous.

I liked my 4th period earth science class, all things considered. I have a friend Ive only grown closer to, Ivy, that never fails to make me lose my mind laughing, and Lily sits just ahead of us both. I have the view of the sunny quad to my right at the assigned window seat, and for once I think I'm pretty smart with course material.

But for whatever mania could possibly be there, there had to be an end to its up.

And the day comes, when I remember the password with a start that nearly sends me toppling back, and I know I need to act.

And I know, I know, that I'm feeding the dark fuzziness in the back of my head  by giving in to temptation, but I can't control it. Like this has been building up from a culmination of feeling like I was inherently evil, or harmful by existing. And the more I suppress it, the stronger it gets. It has the reigns in its hands for the first time and does not give an inch, leaving me helpless, feeling as though I now am truly and affably floating above myself like id wished to be at homecoming, a spectator that can't look away. Its blurring the edges of my vision that was once soft and filled with pre-lunchtime excitement, and its locking my attention onto one thing the more I hold out:

Crisis.

I glance at Ivy, who's jotting down notes, "Do you think I should log into her account? She's been acting shady as hell." And she hasn't. Another lie to add to an overflowing repetoir, but if I use the cadence of drama, twist my words to fit a narrative, I can get any affirmation that I'm looking for wether or not its right.