Playlist

5. "What It Is" - Kodaline

There are 2,716 miles, 43 hours, and 6 states between Sandy Springs, Georgia and Portland, Oregon. Between Portland, Oregon and West Yellowstone, Montana, there are another 830 miles, 14 hours and one state. By the time I reach Cartersville, it's 7:40 A.M. Morning traffic is starting to pick up, but I don't mind. When I get to the Tennessee/Georgia state line, I pull over and take a picture of myself with it. I know I probably look stupid, but taking pictures is one of my favorite way to document things - other than writing. The time is 8:37 A.M.

When I reach Chattanooga, Tennessee, the time is 8:59 A.M. I pull over and stretch my legs, top off my gas (and my coffee,) and relax for minute. I text Mom and let her know I made it to Chattanooga. If I knew Mom wouldn't worry herself sick, I wouldn't tell anyone where I was - but I made a deal with Adam, and I know Mom will benefit from the updates. I then get a text from Will; it's a picture of a waterfall. The caption states: "Undine Falls, 6:07 A.M."

The sun is just starting to rise. The light hasn't hit the falls yet, creating a blue-ish tint to the water. The tops of the trees are bright, splashing the picture with color in contrast to the dark rock. I can see the mist from the water in the picture towards the base of the falls. I take in a deep breath and smile to myself, texting him back: "it's beautiful. i wish i was there" I start my music and leave the gas station parking lot, light a cigarette, and continue on to Nashville.

When I was in 5th grade, I was prescribed glasses. For the first time in my life, I could see clearly. Trees had leaves, signs had words, eyes were made of different colors, and mountains had outlines. The world became more beautiful than it already was. When I was in 6th grade, I was told by a classroom full of students that the world would be a better place I wasn't in it. The beauty of the world vanished, and the bitter, cold demons that were sleeping in the shadows came out to play. I believed these students, these kids. The demons became my demons. I started naming them, and they played with the paintbrushes of my mind; they began to saturate my world of color in black, white and grey. Darkness.

By 7th grade, I was cutting myself. It started with the three-blade razors my mom had bought for me. Equate brand, pink handle, clear cap. My thighs were my favorite; I'd be reminded of my cuts when I'd walk, run, climb - which I did a lot of. By the end of 8th grade, Mom started taking me to Dr. Hawthorne. I hated Dr. Hawthorne and at the time, my mom. I hated everyone because I hated myself. The glasses that had brought me beauty were a focal point for bullies. My weight - which I'd never cared about before - became the anchor to this world, the scale, the toilet.

By 9th grade, the only color I saw was red. Red eyes, red cuts, red emotions. Red.

January 1st, 2010.

My heart starts pounding, and I take a deep breath.

January 1st, 2010. I woke up at 4:30 A.M. I went to my desk, opened a new notebook, and started writing: "Dear Mom"; "Dear Gabe"; "Dear Jude"; "Dear Selene"; "Dear William". The 1-subject, college rule notebook was halfway full by the time I finished. I wrote another: "Dear Dakota". I tore this letter out, folded it, and placed it under my pillow. I left the notebook on my desk, open on the first page, and began cleaning my room. I made my bed, put my clean clothes away and sorted my dirty ones. I did everything but vaccuum. I went to my closet and picked out a white, flowing cotton dress I'd bought in the summer. Strapped shoulders, lace bodice, sweetheart neckline. I loved the dress. I went to my dresser and dug through my sock drawer until I found what I was looking for.

I remember going into the bathroom, placing the item from my drawer on the edge of the bathtub, and filling the bathtub with warm water. I lit a couple candles, opened the window. The water was still running, the tub half-full by the time I stepped in, one foot at a time. The warm water versus the cold air filling the bathroom caused goosebumps to rise along my skin. The dress became heavy once it was wet, but I didn't pay any mind to it at the time. I sat down, looking around the room with a blank expression and a hollow feeling in my chest.