Riparian

Tallahassee I

I couldn't go without feeling the cool, fairly dirty river water on my toes. It felt good sloshing against my ankles, but the best feeling was first getting there and letting tendrils of chilled water thread through my toes as would Olympians training in an obstacle course.

The weakly coloured water dipped and rose and swerved to avoid my toes, still having brushed them on the way through. I tried to convince myself I wouldn't cut that day. I turned the blades around, maneuvering them around my fingers. I examined the writing on them and the curve of the edges. I won't. Not today.

I had many reasons for cutting, but I thought them all to be petty.
It all started near the beginning of junior year. A debate in debate class turned into a heated argument.

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"But if we did it that way, it could start another civil war! Our country would divide into two extremely distinct groups. Then, chaos!" My voice rises a bit more than it should.

Delilah's mood takes a terrifying turn; her eyes narrow and appear to shoot daggers. If looks could kill--I've presented a major flaw in her plan, and she knows it.

"Well, we'll just have to keep that from getting the best of us," she spits like each word is afire. "Won't we?" She only partially succeeds to conceal her fury; at this point, her "henchwomen"--as I call them--are giving me cold looks. "By keeping civilized, we can shorten the leashes on the citizens and stop the uproar before it starts. Nip it in the bud, so to speak."

I can't control my loose tongue. "But how long would that last?" I pause, considering the option of keeping my mouth shut, before deciding to continue. "I mean, you can only keep a hold on people for so long before they begin finding loopholes and breaching security and--the chaos is back." Delilah is close to blowing up, and I know it, but I press on. "What happens then?"

She mutters something under her breath before opening her mouth to respond, but our teacher declares us out of time, gives us forms to review the debate with, and dismisses us.

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My first mistake was pushing Delilah, a girl of power, to her exploding point. I should've just shut up and let her pretend to win, but I had to go and screw up my own life.

My second mistake was entering the school's restroom directly afterward.

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I've just gotten inside the restroom to gather my thoughts when I feel cool hands shove me hard from one side. I go stumbling fast until I bump into a sink hard enough to leave an angry bruise.

Pain shoots up the to-be-bruised areas, my left wrist and the hipbone underneath. I wince, imagining the purple spots that will form there, when I feel another hard shove. My vision blurs temporarily and I still haven't seen my attacker.

I turn to face the assailant; I'm not surprised to find that it's Delilah, but I am surprised to see four henchwomen behind her. All five of the girls glare at me with a fiery hatred in their eyes and fear spreads through me.

"You're pretty proud of yourself, aren't you, smart-aleck?" Each word leaves her mouth angrier than the last.

I just stand there staring, all coherency somewhere else.

"Hello? Is all that intellectuality somewhere else now? Just had to use it for my downfall?" Delilah utters curses I'd never dare use before moving her face dangerously close to mine. "I'm done warning you, Tallahassee Springs. It's time for the end of your life to begin."

She gives me a strong slap that I didn't even see coming before beginning to walk away. Just when I think I've survived the crashing, destructive wave that is Delilah's fury, she stops, turning towards me again and saying, "And in case you want to tell anyone, your word is one against five. Face it, Tallahassee. You and your smart-aleck ways can't win. I've already won."

And she and her four henchwomen leave me alone in the restroom, stunned and late for class.

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Going home wasn't much better. I was about to learn just how much my parents really cared about me.

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I throw my backpack on the floor with every negative emotion known to man churning inside of me. Delilah might as well have given me death threats; she seemed furious. I know this has been building up; no one gets that upset over just a debate. I am one of the only juniors who doesn't worship her. In fact, I despise her. She is petty and stuck-up--why do people look up to people like that? I think it's because she can damage any reputation she wants, and I wonder how she came to acquire that power, but since I have no reputation for her to damage, she went with my life instead.

I hate her. She is so many things, and "angel" isn't one of them.

I stalk upstairs, shut my bedroom door behind me, and throw myself onto my bed to weep. I cry and I cry until I'm tired of crying. This is a new emotion for me, hopelessness and distress and anger all bundled up inside fear. All I can do is wait for dinnertime, when my father will be home from work (my mother is a traditional "stay-at-home mom") and I can vent to both of them.

That time can't come soon enough.
"Dinner's ready, Love-Tally! Come on," my mother yells up the steps. I am descending the staircase before she is done.

I sit at the dinner table with tears in my eyes. I can finally get it out.

But they aren't interested in anything I have to say that night; they just talk right over me, and then utter, "Hold on, Love-Tally," and never come back to me. A nagging feeling comes over me that they are done being my sympathizers, and it hurts.

They ignore me the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Pretty soon, "Love-Tally" changes to "Tallahassee" and then to nothing at all; they stop even pretending to care.

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In retrospect, it didn't sound like a big deal, but it still was. I had been exiled at school and come home only to be exiled again; I had not a kindred spirit in the world. So I turned to blades instead.

I felt petty. I felt shallow. I felt the blades naturally finding their way to my wrists. Tears spilled from my eyes as I realized I would not be able to escape the blades so easily; they were my crutches. I eventually gave in, deepening my cuts, causing blood to trickle from my wrists and tears to trickle from my eyes. Would I ever amount to anything? I doubted it.

As the tears finished escaping, I gathered myself before walking away from my riparian haven and driving home.

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Author's Note

Welcome back! I'm glad you're still here! As you can see, the chapters are gaining length! I think this chapter is a bit weaker than the others, but you didn't hear it from me!

So, our two main characters are established! What are your thoughts on them?

As for the names, these are two names that I have no background for except that I love them. I love the girl names Tallahassee, November, and Tuesday, but my mother said she didn't want any granddaughters with those names. Too bad, I guess. ._.

Feedback is the best present you could give me!

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