Saviour

Chapter 6

Two weeks had passed since the "Incident" (that's what I liked to call it, and I'd forced everyone else to agree with me). Now, after breakfast, I demanded a family meeting. Mr. Stantz had disagreed, but when I threatened to stab him (which, at this point, I would've been happy to do), he quickly sunk into his armchair.

"Okay, listen up. I--" I paused to look at all of them, "--am not happy."

"Obviously..." Jay mumbled.

"Did I fucking ask you to speak?"

"No..."

I threw a ball of paper, which I'd wadded up to keep from punching them in the face, at him.? "Then shut up."

He nodded, playing with his hands.

"Good. I've decided that you could all use some family counciling."

"What?!?"

"Oh hell no!"

"Oh- Oh my..."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, shut up. Now, this will cost you. So, I've decided you will each pay one-third of the bill."

"Since when were you our mother?" Jay was glaring at me like I was the world's biggest enemy.

"Since two weeks ago, it seems like," I glared back at him, liking for once that I had control over a situation. He huffed, staying quiet.

"Sweetie, as good as that sounds, I just don't think--" Mrs. Stantz began.

"Oh no. You don't have a choice; I've already made an appointment. In fact, he should be here in the next fifteen minutes."

"What?!" Mr. Stantz bellowed, "No one asked you to--"

Jay got up, pulling his shirt down over his hips. "Let it go. She's not changing her mind about this."

I grinned triumphantly. "This will be good for you. I'm positive."

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Despite the fact that Mr. Stantz almost took of the counceler's head, everything seemed to go okay. And by okay, I mean disaster. I mean, Mrs. Stantz was practically in the guy's lap and if I hadn't flicked Jay on his forehead, he probably would've stabbed the poor guy in the heart. I had to relay most of the information... and I'm not even sure I got through to him. I'm sure he was uncomfortable. But it was too late, I'd signed him for the year.

Oops.

An hour later, Mrs. Stantz had cooked some homemade macaroni and cheese. It was good... it would've been better if I wouldn't have kept getting cold looks every two seconds. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Can you all stop?!" I banged my fists on the table, "I know you all hate me for doing this and trying to help, but you could be the slightest bit grateful."

Mr. Stantz scowled. "You shouldn't be allowed to make decisions like this."

"You all need help."

"You need to stop telling authorities what to do."

"You need to--"

I wasn't able to finish, Mr. Stantz launched up from his seat, slamming his hands on the table. "Shut up."

Mrs. Stantz held tight to his arm. "Now sweetie--" She shrunk back into her seat when he glared down at her.

"Dad, stop," Jay stood up, "She's trying to help."

"She's trying to ruin things."

"Since when?"

"Have you noticed how controlling she is?"

I squeaked as Jay leaped -- literally, leaped -- onto the table, punching Mr. Stantz in the face. Mrs. Stantz wailed in horror.

"What?" I asked.

"The food!!"

I frowned, dragging Jay off the table. "Stop!" Jay growled at me, but I rolled my eyes, dragging him to his room. "Stay."

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Do you know why you should be alive?

- No.

Do you have a reason for living?

- No.

Can you think of a reason?

- No. No one would care if I left.

Why do you think that?

- I've been neglected, beaten, raped, starved... I try to meet new people and make new friends, but I still get ignored. Why should I stay if no one pays attention?

You may feel that way, but there are many people who care. Do you think if you asked, they would admit to caring?

- Not really.

The survey stopped as the screen began to load to another page. I sighed deeply, glancing at the broken razor next to my laptop. It was tempting, but I made myself wait until I got my results. I'd found this website; it asked you a question, then came up with more depending on your answer. It was supposed to give you a depression level from a scale of 1 to 50, 50 being the worst.

Finally, the screen popped up. I skipped past all the text to see my result. In big, bold numbers it said, '49'.

Great. Just great. I slammed the laptop shit, grabbing the razor blade. I plopped down on the bed, slashing my wrists, watching as the blood began to run down my arm. Then the door flew open.

"Alex."

I jumped, pulling the covers over my arms. "What is it?"

I watched as Jay hobbled over, his nose bloody. "We need to, um--"

"Call the police? Its about time."

"Well, I was gonna say run, but that works too."

"You can't just let him get away with this."

"I realise that, but I'm just worried about getting us--"

Jay wasn't able to finish, because Mr. Stantz flew into the room.

"You two aren't going anywhere."