If Only

Normal

It's been a week since Samantha died and I'm going back to school. I couldn't afford to take anymore time off or else I'd be held back. So Monday morning I got out of bed with empty eyes and got dressed. I walking into school not caring about the staring kids or the insult. Barely hearing when Mr.Brace yelled at them to go to class. I went to my locker put my book-bag away and grabbed my books. I walked to class like a robot. I didn't speak all day. And when Mr. Brace stopped me in the hall way after school asking if I was alright. I replied in the monotone that I've used since her death that "I'm as fine as you can be after you lost your only friend and are looking for a reason to stay alive." He just nodded at this statement and walked me out of the building.

The rest of the week went on like this. When the weekend came around I sat in bed all day. Either crying or zoning out. I didn't really have a reason to live. That was what I thought before my brother knocked on my door. I looked over and he told me that I had outpatient today. I sighed and got up. I debated going in my pjs. But decided against it. I threw on some leggings and a T-shirt.

When I got to outpatient they weighed me then took me to therapy. I had lost weight. I now weighed 116.4 pounds. They weren't happy about this. My mom explained about Samantha. I couldn't listen so I zoned out. They said if I didn't gain the weight back I'd be back in inpatient. I signed again.

~Three months later~

It's July. My mom threatened inpatient in June so now I have to pretend to be okay. But in reality I'm not. This is what it was like after grandmas death when I was 8. Now I'm 14 and going threw the same pain. The pain that never goes away.

That night I crawl under my bed and grab a razor. I've been secretly cutting at night when every body is asleep. I can tell that they are kind of worried about me. But I hide all my grief with a fake smile. They don't fall for it because my eyes are dead. I head out the door saying I'm going to the library. I'm getting back to the way my life was before anything happened. The next morning my mom walked into my room and asked what she could do to help. My reply was short but I knew she understood. "Home". She walked out of my room without another word. I didn't feel like getting up besides it was the summer I didn't have to.

Just thinking about last summer when everything was simple made my heart hurt. I slowly got out of bed and went to my desk. In the bottom draw was my diary from last year. From before my thoughts were too dangerous to write down. I read the entry about my first therapy session. Back then it was longing for a place that wasn't mine anymore. And fear that it would slip the bounds of my mind. Now it's fear for my sanity. And a longing for people who I can't see.

The next week I was going downstairs about to go on a walk when my mom stopped my in the living room. "Pack your bags Amanda we are going home" I kept walking questioning my sanity. I was hearing voices now. "Did you hear me Amanda we are going home." I turned and her lips were moving I wasn't hearing voices this was real. "Is this a dream?" She shook her head no. I ran up the stairs to pack my bag. I packed enough cloths for a week and all my must haves. When I got downstairs my mother was smiling at me. " why are you smiling at me like a maniac?" I was so confused. "Because you're eyes are not as dead anymore. It feels good to see life in you after so many months of living with the walking dead."

When we got to my home town I expected to go to a friends house. But we didn't we went to my grandmamas house. The one with the blueberry bushes. When we got there they gave me a huge hug and I froze. They pulled away quickly worried about why I wasn't moving. My mother pulled them aside while I was stuck in my trance. I was back at that night. Seeing Samantha for the last time being put into the ambulance. Remembering her last hug. By the time I snapped out of it my grandparents knew that hugs triggered my memory of her. They led us inside and I swear I could of cried. My grandmama has made a blueberry pie for our arrival.