liabilities

oh, jeremy

As soon as the doctor delivers the news, my parents completely break down. I feel vaguely annoyed, after all, I'm the one with the fatal and incurable disease here, but deep inside, I feel sorry. Before I attempted suicide, a sick part of me wished that when I did die, my parents would feel some sort of guilt, that they'll feel bad. But now I realize, they do feel guilty, and it's not even their fault. It was a horrible thing to wish for. Apparently, my weakened physical state, combined with the amount of stress my brain was taking on was just too much, and as a result, I was officially going to die sometimes in the next month or two. In the next room over, I see my mom falling to her knees, begging the doctor to find some cure, to save her precious baby. The anguish on all their faces makes me feel pity for them, but they'll move on. They always do. In a way, I'm grateful for this illness, it seems you can't cheat death twice. He always gets his dues. I will die anyways, it's just a matter of timing, and for that, I smile. Finally, I'll be free to die with the little dignity I have. This is how I will end.

Mom and Dad are heartbroken, they can't believe how damaged their daughter is. There's still a small part of me that resents them for not rescuing me while they still could, for not being able to look past my grades and extracurriculars. Look where it's driven us. I know the big question they want to ask me, how did it all happen? And to be honest, I would have to think about how it happened myself. I could blame it on Adira or Jem, or even myself. But in the end, there is no one person to fault, and giving them a scapegoat to blame after I'm gone isn't the wisest idea. I suppose if I told them, I might just hurt them more, them knowing that all this while, I've been suffering in silence by hurting myself. It would make them blame themselves even more, for not taking more notice about me, they would feel terrible for the rest of their lives, thinking that they had driven their daughter to death because they hadn't saved her. While part of that is true, I would never wish that kind of guilt on anyone, so my pain remains a secret for now.

I distract them with meaningless tasks, like right now, they're going to fetch some of my favorite books from the library. Giving them tasks to do prevents them from hovering over my bed, like I'm going to disappear at any moment. And although our relationship wasn't the best during my lifetime, they really just want me to be happy.

Habits don't change, every now and then I consider what it would feel like to have a sharp blade against my skin again, the rush of control and power over something in my life. I consider the bitter taste of the chemicals that almost killed me, and sometimes I wish for that again.

But who am I kidding, it's not like they'll ever let me near blades or pills ever again, so I just ball my fists and focus on the book I'm reading.

Perhaps someday they'll let me go outside again, and soak in the sun one last time.

There's a sharp knock at the door and I curse silently. The library is a half hour drive from here, how could they be back so quickly? The nurses are on their lunch breaks, this time should be Roz time.

"Come in," I sigh, thinking up my next excuse to send people away from me. A boy with mused brown hair, a lean and muscular frame, and most noticeably, piercing green eyes steps in the room. In another world, he might have been considered unconventionally attractive. But I know those green eyes and cruelty they hide, I've felt those muscular arms hold me down as I got hit and beaten but I've also felt them tuck my hair away from my face.

My old best friend, Jeremy.

I flinch and recoil from his presence.

He notices of course, Jem always noticed, "I, well, I heard, so I came," he stuttered out, afraid on how to approach post-suicidal Roz. Post-bullying Roz. Post-Jem Roz.

"Get out," I say with quiet venom in my voice. Once, I would have adored Jem coming to my hospital bedside, but now? I don't want to see him. I don't want to deal with him. I don't want him anymore.