One to Another - quiet, kind & special people

Part 7 - Rae

I must of dosed off, because the next thing I know mum is shaking me, waking me up to say good bye - she is off to work. I wake up disorientated. I had completely forgotten that mum starts back working nights today.

"Rae," she screeches "your dinner is on the table, and no sweets from the larder ok? I don't want to come home to find wrappers in the bin young lady. Now if anything goes wrong, or you just don't feel right, please call me at work." She rushes off.

I can tell she is worried, and I know she would prefer to be watching me every minute of every day, but it isn't feasible. And for my own sanity I hope that this works out. I need some space.

The front door slams shut, I hear the car start and silence fills the house. My mum is a blob with a gob just like me, and when she isn't around there is a undeniable hollowness in the way the house feels.

I am alone. I feel a pang of uncertainty and nervousness, it is the first time I have been alone in 5 months at night. I feel guilty that my mum is so worried about me. It is all my fault. The last time mum was working night shift and I had gone weeks where I had barely saw her. She would leave for work not long after I came home from school, and I would spend hours thinking over the horror of my day, that nobody wanted me around. This compounded daily, I'd usually end up consumed with panic and loneliness. To deal with this I'd end up in the cupboard, eating whatever I could get my hands on, crisps, chocolate, biscuits, cakes, sweets. I was never hungry, I was just desperate to not feel what I was feeling. I would eat my weight in treats and eventually when eating treats made me hate myself even more than I did before I started (if that was possible), I would take my pocket knife. It started with small cuts but ended up with my bedroom looking like a crime scene, me in the back of an ambulance. These thoughts propel me back to my stay in hospital. I have to stop these thoughts.

"Your better now, remember Rae" I say to myself.

"I snack, I don't binge anymore, pull yourself together Rae". I plead myself. I am panicked.

I place my hands on the wall, and I start to count "1, 2, 3, 4, 5..."

Once I reach 10 I am breathing easier.

"Music Rae, music..." I move over to the stereo and turn it on. Tunes start to fill the house, and I feel instantly better. What the fuck would mum think if she knew that I was freaking out like this. She would probably tether herself to me (which is a horrible thought), or send me back to hospital. Some might think going to hospital is a horrible place, but with my friends Tix and Danny (two hats), I was amongst friends. People as crazy as me.

I am sitting on the couch with the kitchen light on filtering into the lounge room. Once I am calm, I realise that I had been travelling pretty well, keeping to myself until today, and that has rattled me. Until today happened I had been looking forward to being home alone, to being able to play music and hang out without mum looking over my shoulder watching me to see when I was going to crack (note I said when not if).

I finally get up and take my dinner to my room, I replace the silence I created when I turned the stereo off downstairs, with more tunes in my room. I sit at my desk and open my top draw. I pull out my one and only true friend.

Dear Diary, 15 June 1996

Where do I start? My book? The café? A fit lad touching me? My tears? The library? I guess they all lead to the same place - I hate me!

Kester tells me to list great things about meself when I feel like this. I find him so annoying. This doesn't help it just makes me feel worse.

I'm fat.

I'm mad.

I'm ugly.

I'm alone.

I am devoid of good.

I just want to fucking die.

There's my list Kester, sit on that!

Fuck his positive affirmations, fuck him for pushing me all the fucking time, fuck him!

Dinner is finished. I walk the dishes downstairs.

As I walk past the phone rings it's like it knew I was nearby.

"Hello?", I answer

"Rae..." the familiar voice "It's Chloe...'

"Oh, Hi Chloe", I reply while thinking what the fuck is she ringing me now.

"Been a while Rae, am sorry but between school, boys, ma and da, it's been ya know..." Chloe continues. "What are you doing Friday babes, thought we could hang out, just you and me like old times - icecream, tunes and big talk?" Chloe asks.

I pause thinking why now Chloe, why you wanting to talk to me now. 'Look ummm yeah Friday sounds..." Chloe cuts me off mid sentence "awesome" she says, "see you Friday at yours, say 7pm". I try and speak, but she ends the conversation and I end with a feeble "ok, bye", rather then telling her to fuck off.

After I hang up the phone, I am puzzled, but I guess I have known Chloe a very long time, so I need to give her the benefit of the doubt.

I check the doors, they are locked and I make my way up to bed.

I get ready for bed, I turn my mirror away from me, and I put on my pj's. I moisturise, brush my hair and brush my teeth. I place a night time mix tape on for me to be able to sleep to. I turn off the lights I pull back my quilt, my childhood Care Bear cover, which I simply can't get rid of, and I slide into bed.

My mind turns to Finn Nelson. He truly is handsome, it is just a shame he has such bad taste in girls. He is definitely fit, an epic slice.  I have found myself looking at his body on more than one occasion but usually as I peak over the top of whatever book I have been reading. He appears fit and grumpy and quite honestly he is like looking at porn.

At that point my mind turns to the fact that he touched me, Finn Nelson touched me. He is the first boy to touch me and I have to admit, I usually feel numb, but when he touched me I felt something. Something I am not sure I have ever felt before. I shake my head, seriously I don't need to torture myself about something that is not real or well ever be real.

I wish I understood why he came after me. It has to be part of some joke they are both playing on me, there would be no other reason for him to come after me like that. After all he is Finn Nelson, the fittest lad in college.