Broken: Emily's Story

18

Bright light wakes me up. I'm alone on Eric's bed. I don't remember dreaming about anything. It's been a couple years since that happened. I have to admit, it felt great.

I sit up. Eric's asleep on the floor. The T.V. is still playing. I think it's a crime show. I think Eric told me he was into that. I get up off Eric's bed and grab my bag. I pull out a random shirt and a pair of pants.

I go into the bathroom to change. My angry scars on my legs hurt when I change and my arms throb with a dull pain, despite how careful I am. When I'm done I have to sit on the floor for a while until the pain goes away.

Eventually, the pain stops and I get up off of the floor. I open the bathroom door and take my clothes back to Eric's room and put them in my bag. Eric's still passed out, so I just sit on his bed, not knowing what to do.

Apparently, some girl was murdered and her father did it. He abused her so much, he eventually bashed her skull into her own bed and buried her under a tree. A group of boys were playing in the dirt and found her there. As I watch the episode, I feel bad for the girl. She was barely sixteen.

Eric woke up after the episode ended and there was a commercial for a car. He noticed me watching the T.V. You coulda changed it you know, he says, getting up off the floor.

It was interesting, I say. He looks at me when I say that. Didn't think you were the crime show type, he says. I'm not. I don't watch T.V., I say.

Do you do anything besides talk to your sister and, he says, and stops and indicates my arms. Was it hard for him to say that I cut myself?

I shake my head. I just realized how little I do.

No, not since Ellie died, I say quickly. And even when Ellie was alive I didn't do much.

Hmm. Okay, well I'm getting in the shower and then we're gonna leave the house. You wanna come with me? He says.

I stare at him like he's gone crazy.

I'm kidding, he says. He laughs, which causes me to smile. He gives me a hug, grabs some clothes from his dresser and then leaves the room to take a shower. Once he's gone, the smile fades. I find myself staring at his poster again.

Now that I think about it, I do remember listening to that band. My favourite song had been about love being a drug or something like that, but couldn't remember the name of it. I know I listened to it a lot though.

I pull out my phone. I know people could look up music on a music app and play it. I open one of the music apps on my phone and type in the band name. I scroll through the songs trying to remember the name. I find it eventually and click on it. Its familiar tune plays from the phone. I let it play on repeat, like I used to do.