Scarred

Chapter 30

*TRIGGER WARNING*

Charlotte stirred and stretched her tight limbs. Her dad gripped her sister's hand and stared at her impassive face. He glanced at her.

He opened his mouth but was cut off by a hitch in Jenna's breathing.

Charlotte leaped to her sister's side. "What's going on?"

Her dad didn't reply. His gaze was locked on Jenna.

"Do you think . . . ?" She allowed the words to drift away. She couldn't say it. He didn't answer. But it didn't matter because Jenna answered the question herself a couple minutes later.

The monitor flatlined.

The room burst into motion around her, but somehow time slowed down. Her dad didn't move. Julie placed a hand on his shoulder, and he remained in that fixed position, staring. Charlotte stared with him.

When the doctors and nurses pushed her away, she snapped into focus and screamed. She fought against them, trying to reach Jenna. She needed to hug her sister. She wanted to magically bring her back to life with the touch of her finger, but the monitor continued that dreadful noise and she wasn't strong enough against the ones holding her back.

Why her? Why not me? "Jenna," she choked out.

Her dad dragged her from the room. She screamed and wrestled against him, but once they were in the hallway, her fight evaporated into tears. She melted in his arms. She clung to him and bawled into his chest where she felt him shaking with his own sobs.

"Why her?" she murmured into the fabric.

"It'll be okay. It'll be okay," he kept repeating. She knew he was breaking his number one rule.

Memories engulfed her of sledding, makeshift forts, dolls, and dress up. It was the same Jenna that had taken her last breath just minutes ago. It couldn't be real.

Charlotte peeked into the room. The doctor was placing the white sheet over her sister's face.

Jenna would never watch cartoons with her or ride bikes with her or look at her with her puppy eyes. She wouldn't sneak downstairs after a nightmare or laugh at her own jokes. Her birthday was in a few days. She wouldn't turn twelve or open the present Charlotte had gotten her. She wouldn't eat her cinnamon rolls or brag about her delicious breakfast.

How could she do that to them? Why was she allowed to get rid of all her problems, while they were left to grieve her? She wasn't thinking about them. She was thinking about herself.

"Why would you do this to us?" Charlotte breathed.

Her dad released her and met the doctor. They spoke briefly before the doctor walked away. Charlotte slid down the wall and pulled her knees to her chest. She couldn't convince herself that it was Jenna under that sheet. But the hole in her chest told her the truth. She leaned her head against her knees and sobbed.

How would she live without her sister? The answer was simple: she couldn't. She couldn't find it within herself to live while Jenna was in the ground. She didn't deserve to live—didn't want to live—if Jenna wasn't there.

Numbly, Charlotte stretched her legs out before her and returned to her secret world after a year.

****

Charlotte held her phone in her hand, staring at the screen. Repeating what she planned to say, she searched her contacts until she found the right one. The phone rang and she secretly hoped Sam wouldn't pick up.

To her disappointment, she answered, "Hello?"

"Sam, it's Charlotte."

Sam huffed. "Oh God. What do you want now?"

Charlotte repeated the words she had rehearsed, "I forgive you. For everything you did." She smiled with relief, glad that was out of the way.

"That's nice. Now shove it up your ass."

"Sam, wait," Charlotte begged. Miraculously, Sam remained on the line. "Was the story you told me true? Were you actually bullied?"

Sam released an audible sigh. "I'm going to seem like a bigger bitch than I already was, but yes, that story was true. You're going to ask why I did all that stuff to you, if I understood what it was like and I'm not going to answer that."

"What about that note to Kenneth Raelynn kept talking about? Do you know anything about that?"

"How high are you right now? I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Sam hung up before another word could be uttered.

If she didn't write the note . . . Charlotte shook her head. It didn't matter anymore.

With that over with, Charlotte headed for her sister's room. She opened to the page she'd been on last, then skipped ahead until she found the last entry. She forced herself to read the painful words until there were no more.

Charlotte slammed the book closed. It was all lies. 

The voice in Charlotte's head reappeared, reminding her that she was to blame and tugging her toward what she craved. She plugged her ears to make it go away but it was amplified instead. She tried whispering the words to the lullaby. The voice drowned it out.

Too weak to resist, Charlotte entered the bathroom and picked up the razor blade. Her heart palpitated loudly. She shouldn't relapse. She was almost a month clean. No. She put the razor down. I won't do it. But the desire was still there and her body was screaming at her, aching for the touch of the metal, for the sharp pain. She needed to tell someone. She needed to talk to Anthony.

Charlotte fumbled for her phone and called him.

Please, pick up. "Hey, babe." She wanted to weep at the sound of his voice.

Charlotte folded her legs and leaned against the wall. "I miss her so much, Anthony. I want to relapse."

"I can come over. Is someone there with you?"

"No, Dad's out with Julie and I can't be alone right now. Please come."

"I'm on my way. Stay right there."

Charlotte disconnected and let the tears slip down her face. If she cut again, the voice wouldn't be satisfied until she was dead.

********

still not over mcr's split

but what else is new?