The Center

Chapter 33 - "and possibly broken.

Suicide. Wow. What an idea. I've never thought about that before, why should I? I have a life of privilege. Everything I do, good or bad, is for me. Why would I destroy myself? I love myself. If you'd have asked me even one day ago I would have told you about my greatness. Wealthy heiress. Debutant. Socialite. Except for my parents, I was the sun the entire earth revolved around.

I study the dimpled imperfections of the white wall. Jackson thinks I have low self-esteem. What a joke. Now, not only do I have to convince him, but I'll be spending my days trying to convince this Dr. Maggie woman. I'm not the feel-sorry-for-myself kind. The bile or baby in my gut stirs. Even now, all I can think about is how to get free from these straps. My comfort. The spoiled privilege that comes from being a Manchester.

Stupid. Honestly, as far as my father is concerned I might as well be named Smith. The thought makes me want to curl up like an infant, but the restraints make that impossible. My body should be covered in diamonds. Leather is supposed to clothe my feet not my wrist. But all of that is over now. I should have let Sam take me to the dance. I should have done a million other things.

Now my prison time is ruined. How did this happen? Nicole lay in a hospital bed for weeks because of me. I tore up the forest and a Bible and my entire life because I didn't get the things I wanted and now I'm busy begging Jackson to help me escape punishment less than a day later. I should hate myself, but I don't. My fingertips feel cold. What does that make me?

I twist my head to the side. The light hits the back of my head casting a dark reflection on the wall. The wild shadow of my hair stretches across the painted surface like a monster. I try to lower the beast, but the distortions on the wall form a more grotesque figure. The image stabs through me at its truth. A mirror couldn't provide a more honest reflection.

If I would have let a few things slide I could be at the mall shopping. I could be sitting in a restaurant sipping soup without someone forcing it down my throat. I spent my life acting stupid, and pretending I was smart. Time to step up to my sentence.

By the time Jackson returns, the gentleness on his face stings. He's not the kind of guy who would ever really love me. Not if he knew my whole history. No big. None of that matters anymore.

"I've changed my mind." I try to appear taller, stronger even as I lay constrained to the bed. I'm not being anything but honest with myself when I say, "I don't think you should remove the bands."

"You actually do want to hurt yourself?"

"Fat chance." I crumple my lips. "The truth is, I deserve to be here. I earned this. I've been violent and angry for a long time." Tears push against my throat and I fight against sounding vulnerable. I don't want the words to come out fake or manipulative, two skills I've mastered in my life. It's important to me that he knows I'm serious. "Look, none of you could have known it, but you should have locked one of these things on my wrist when I first arrived."

Jackson studies my face while I stare at him. He shouldn't believe me. Nothing in my history proves me to be even remotely honest.

"I need to serve my sentence. And this is part of it."

"What changed your mind?" He sounds skeptical.

"Nothing." My drama didn't come from my mother or father or sister. It didn't come from my friends. The mess I'd made of my life belongs to me.

"Don't make me regret this." Jackson reaches over and unties the bands at my feet.

"What are you doing?"

"I thought about it. The Bracelet is enough." He releases my wrists. They aren't raw, just stiff. I flex each joint, rub my cheeks and tuck a beastly strand of hair away. If only I was different, a more acceptable girl. For the first time in my life, I wish I was the kind of girl a guy like Jackson would go for.