Blinders

Chapter Eight: In The Wake Of

A/N: Discussion of suicide ahead.

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Cass's P.O.V.

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"Cassandra! What could POSSIBLY be so interesting outside?"

"Sorry, Vernon," I said, blinking rapidly and hoping to God I didn't look like I'd been staring at Mikey in girls' clothing-- which was, of course, what I'd been doing. "Saw a rare bird outside."

"Didn't take you as a birdwatcher, young lady. Aaanyway, the battle-"

Which was precisely when I tuned him out and went back to staring.

"Cassie, what is it? My eyeliner? Damn it, I shouldn't have rubbed my eyes." They started to rededen. "Damn it."

"No, no, it's not that. It's just... DAMN, Mikey."

"What?"

"You look great in girls' clothes. Not that you didn't look great the past two days, I mean, I just-"

They smiled and looped their hair behind their ear, blushing more.

"CASSANDRA. Interupting class to fawn over girls. What would your mother think?"

My vision started dancing. Oh, shit. The flowers just outside smelled sickly sweet. Too much like her perfume. The smell leaked out of my lungs, into the rest of my chest. Into my stomach, my head.

"Cassie? Cassie!" Mikey shouted. "Dude. Dude. You look like you're going to faint. Are you okay?"

I stood, lurched to one side, and bolted for the open door. I collided with the wall. Ignoring the new pain in my shoulder, I sprinted for the girl's bathroom. Dad's voice was in my ears, Mom's eyes seared into my head.

"Cassie." Mikey crawled under the sink with me and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I... I'm fine." I took a deep breath. 

"Okay, don't even try that on me. If you don't want to tell me, I get it, but you are obviously not fine-"

"No, no." I shook my head. "If you're gonna date me, you deserve to know what mess you're getting yourself into."

"Cassie-"

I shook my head again. "You ought to know. When I was fourteen, when the twins were just about three, my mom... my mom killed herself."

My lungs locked up. Ever since Evelyn and Vivian were born, Mom hadn't been herself. Dad said she head postpartum depression. She had been so full of life, and I hated that this was how I was remembering her. She'd braid flowers into Chris's and my hair. She'd taught me to paint. She taught Campbell to use the locks instead of flying into rages like he used to.

"When I unlocked your cabinets," they murmured.

I started to redden. "I, uh, I didn't realize I was talking out loud."

But now that I'd started, I couldn't stop. "That's why it was so scary when she developed this. She never left her bedroom. She stopped going for walks. I had to start taking care of the house. She felt AWFUL fabout that. And one day, when I got home from school..." I dook a deep breath. "The girls were both crying, and Campbell'd locked himself in the bathroom. You could tell something was wrong, one of those gut feelings." I started to wrap my hands around my knees, then hesitated and reached for Mikey's hand instead. "She'd hanged herself in her bedroom. I didn't know what to do. I called nine-one-one. I called my dad, but he couldn't figure out what was wrong, so he didn't show up until late. When he got home, she'd already been taken away by EMTs. He left me home with my siblings for three whole days before my aunts arrived from New Jersey to take care of us."