Here Is All I Have

s i x

"Arabella!" I hear. I don't know who says this, my suicidal haze has me confused and woozy.

maybe both of my knights in shining armor have arrived. maybe they will duel over me, and we will all lose.

I always lose.

"don't jump, baby, please," this is Peter. he sounds so troubled. really, though, he just doesn't want to deal with the aftermath of watching someone die.

he doesn't care that it's me who is dying. nobody really does.

"Bella, please. you can be better than this, I know you can. get down and let us talk about what you're feeling," Lee, of course. he's the sensible one, that uses more words to show he cares.

Peter, on the other hand, uses less words. but they tend to be the right ones.

I just now realize I'm crying. I really hate to cry, it shows that I'm weak. I want to be strong. it's so difficult to be that, though. it's much easier to give in, give up, jump off.

I want to be strong.

being strong means staying alive.

so, I hop down from the ledge and look away from my boys. I want to say I'm going home, but I have no home now. home used to be where my mother was. she's nowhere to be found.

"I need a place to stay,"

"stay with me," the boys say at the same time. they look at each other, both looking ready for a fight.

"I'll stay at a hotel. can I borrow any money?" I finally look at them, and they're already pulling out their wallets. "okay, I'll find the money myself," I say, walking past them as they bicker about who will pay for me.

these boys are horrible to me, even when trying to be kind.

-

I stop by my house to gather some money. I don't have a clue how much I'll need, so I grab the stash I've had since I was twelve. over two hundred dollars. I know I won't need that much, but I want to be safe.

the motel is small, and the room is musty and unclean. the sheets haven't been washed in ages, they smell and I don't want to know what all of these stains are.

I feel so dirty, and without purpose. I know that I hate myself, and I know every else hates me too.

but I can't die. no matter how much I'd like to, that cannot happen. I have to win, by surviving.

so I sleep, because I'm tired and it takes me away from my life. like a temporary death.

it's only about one in the morning, I don't know where the day went. I only hope tomorrow is better.

-

when I wake up, it isn't quite morning yet. it's three thirty AM, and someone is knocking on my door.

I'm still half asleep when I stumble out of bed, keeping my eyes closed when I open the door. for all I know, it's a serial killer, and I'll be dead in just a moment.

"Ara, baby," It's Peter. I have yet to decide whether or not I would rather it be a serial killer.

"Can I come in?" he adds awkwardly when I take too long to answer. I simply nod, and he walks behind me, closing the door.