THIS BOOK CONTAINS: TALK ABOUT SUICIDE AND SUICIDE ATTEMPTING, SELF-HARM, RAPE, ABUSE, AND STRONG LANGUAGE. THIS IS THE ONLY WARNING, AS I WILL NOT BE WARNING IN THE STORY, MAYBE IN SOME. (mostly because I will forget)
Calista Perez is a sweet and...
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I wake up a few hours later, and I groan and roll over. I open my eyes and fall off my bed with an 'oof' sound. He turns his head, and his deep laugh makes me forget about being scared at all.
"Sorry," He pauses between his laughs. "I couldn't help laughing." I smile, growing hotter with embarrassment, and stand back up. "You okay?" I nod and look at him. My smile falters when I see that look in his eyes again.
"I'm fine," I answer quickly, growing annoyed at his look. The look Alex looks at me with, the same look the doctors and Gabrielle gave me when I overdosed last year. I despise the look of pity.
He notices my change in demeanor and grabs my face with both his calloused hands on the soft skin of my face. "Baby," I pull back. He puts his hand back in his lap. "I know something's up. What's wrong?" His voice is soft, gentle.
I look at him with a look of fury, and then at the door where JJ stands. "Uhm, we're going to Tom's. You guys coming?" The tension so palpable, JJ probably cab't breathe.
I nod and stand abruptly, going into my bathroom, slamming the door. Hoping that they got the Idea to leave. I cool down staring at the cabinet with my first aid kit that's hiding my blade. How ironic that the first aid kit contains my blade, which is used to do the exact opposite of first aid.
Screw it.
I get the kit and open it, looking for my blade. When I can't find it, I panic. I quickly go into my room searching all over. On my nightstand, under it. On my bed, under my bed. On my desk, under my desk. I stand straight, trying to remember.
"Looking for something?" I quickly turn to the sound of Alex's voice. It's not his normal, energetic, sarcastic voice. It's his voice when he's about to lash out. I look at his hand, he's holding the box cutter, knowing why it was hidden.
Did I forget to say that we got our Mom's temper? Yeah? Sorry.
"Why the hell were you going through my stuff? That's an invasion of my privacy!" My voice quickly rises with fury.
"Tell me why the hell you had this," He throws the box cutter somewhere in the room. "Hidden in your fucking first aid kit!" His voice was louder, deeper than mine, but not more furious, more concerned and disappointed than angry.
When I don't answer him, he grows more impatient. "I thought you fucking stopped! I thought you'd gotten better! Why, Calista, why did you have this hidden?"
"I am better, Alex. I forgot it in my first aid kit. I haven't- I don't- I," I sigh, frustrated.
Alex shakes his head, with a pity look in his eyes, not his voice. "Calista, you have to stop, if not for mom, but for me. I am begging you. Just please stop." He sounds defeated, but the anger never wavers. I can't help the tears that fall.
I look down, clenching my fist so hard that my fingernails are breaking skin. "Alex," I say, terrifyingly calm, even I get scared. " Puede que seas mi hermano, pero no tengo motivos para seguir limpio." I look up at him. I realized how it sounded, he probably thinks im planning to attempt again and the look he has in his eyes, tells me. (You may be my brother, but I have no reason to stay clean.)
His mouth opens, and I cut him off. "No soporto esa maldita mirada, la que me estás dando es la misma mirada que me dieron los médicos y Gabriella el día que lo intenté." (I can't stand that damn look, the one you're giving me is the same look the doctors and Gabriella gave me the day I tried.)
I chuckle with no emotion, and I look at him like he's nothing to me. "¡Por Dios, hasta Elijah me mira así!." (Oh my God, even Elijah looks at me like that!)
I look in his eyes. His eyes widen, of course he doesnt realize the look, anyone gives me. His eyes have tears threatening to fall but not tears from sadness, from anger. We are to caught up in our argument that we don't hear our friends come up the steps.
"Ya basta, nos vamos a casa de Tom. Prepárate y hablamos luego." (That's enough, we're leaving to go to Tom's. Get ready and talk later.) Taylor tells us she hasn't heard enough to know the whole story. Alex and I don't break eye contact and we're both panting.
I huff and walk downstairs, pushing past him. I walk downstairs and out the door, muttering "I'll be in the car" to our friends, who are confused about what happened.
I walk out on the porch and take deep breaths, which are not working. I think to the coping mechanisms our mom taught us about controlling our anger. I take deep breaths, I wiggle my fingers. When those dont work, I walk to side of the house and punch the brick wall until I'm bleeding, and pulled away by Elijah.
"Calista, what the fuck." He asks, so confused as I look up at him. When I don't answer, he grabs my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "Baby," He says so gently. I finally broke down. I cry in his arms, at the words that I threw at my brother, how I broke the promise to my mom, several times.
"I-I'm a horrible person," I sob so hard that I can't stand. Elijah smooths my hair, comforting me. It works slightly, I feel comforted, but not calm. I sobbed uncontrollably.
"Baby, you need to calm down. If you cry harder, you can-" Elijah steps towards me.
I pull away from him. "I am a horrible person, Eli. I practically told him he's nothing to me. He's everything to me! I cannot imagine my life without him, Elijah. I stood in there-" My voice cracks. "I stood there, in my room, and told Alex that he's not a good enough reason to stay clean."
I clutch my chest, I step back as I get dizzy, and I start seeing stars. I look around frantically. "I can't breathe Eli-" I gasp out, I grab my chest, balling my shirt into my fists. I stop, dead in my tracks, and it looks like everything is spinning.
I look around to see everyone standing outside. I see Elijah's lips move as he yells something, but I don't hear anything. The last thing I see is Alex's face etched with concern and tears in his eyes, then it all goes black.
