See the Stars with You | ✓

TWELVE | May 20th, 2015

TWELVE

May 20th, 2015

Everyone's here for a reason. I should probably frame that quote.

Overused and clichéd, but it still helps. I'm here for a reason. So is the Boy. So is everyone. Suddenly, the monotonous white walls seem drenched in rainbows.

And I can learn to appreciate the occasional rainbows that paint my thoughts when they come. That's the best thing Luca's taught me in the years we've known each other. Appreciate every damn rainbow that comes your way, before it all fades back into gray.

I sneak a glance at the boy in Olivia's Chair, and feel a spark of hope.

Could he possibly care, unlike those whom I thought loved me? The searing pain in my ribs reminds me of when I jumped to end it all.

It was enthralling. Enthralling and scary and hopeful all at once.

But it was regret that overpowered them all.

My heart in my throat, I wanted my feet back on the ground the moment I'd gotten a taste of falling. There was a lot left in me, I realized. I didn't want this commitment. I wanted out. I realized that everything could have been solved, it was easy.

I've got a second chance now. Is there someone out there, who saw a spark of something in me worth saving? Or is it pure luck? No matter what the answer to that may be, at the end, I've gotten a second chance. Not everyone gets that.

But back here, tucked safely into this bed, I feel that spark slipping away, no matter how tight my grasp may be.

The boy seems just as surprised as I am to find my cheeks wet. Again. Sweet lord, I need to stop crying.

He gives me a small smile, letting my head rest on his shoulder. "I'm guessing you haven't opened up to many people about it?"

I shake my head, not saying anything. I've dumped enough on him for now.

People tell you to be yourself, but seem to despise the real you. Help a girl out, what are you supposed to do, then?

"So, something, or someone's bothering you. That much is evident," he decides. "I'll assume it's a someone. For the sake of convenience. Feel free to correct me and swear at me for making wrong assumptions. In your head. Not out loud."

I nod in approval of his intellectual decision. "An excellent idea."

"Don't let them get to you."

I open my mouth, but he holds up a pale hand.

"I know, it seems hard, clichéd, even. Billy, here—I really shouldn't go around assuming their names, but—"

"Pick another name," I say quickly.

"You're right. How about Bruce? That sounds more hardcore."

"Right."

"Right. So, Bruce here, right? He has some issues. Lots of them. He has to take them out on someone, so he takes them out on you."

"And he never does what he's told. He goes around corrupting his, um, co-workers."

"I mean, sure," he shrugs.

"Bruce is supposed to be my friend. Bruce is working towards my doom, rotting my friends so they will turn against me. And eventually kill me. And themselves. Bruce was never meant to be. Bruce ruined everything. Bruce won't leave me alone. Bruce is an effing inconvenience!"

"Now—whoa there, slow down. You are shaking. Bruce isn't real, have you forgotten?" the boy asks, seeming genuinely concerned. I'm being way too dramatic. "Let's forget Bruce for now, alright? Let's forget this Bruce ever existed. Bad Bruce. Yeah? Great."

"Bad Bruce," I repeat, allowing myself a small smile.

"Previously, on Sunshine's Sorrows—"

"I thought we agreed that I refuse to be called that."

"Sorry. It was 'Girl' right?"

I nod.

"Previously, on Girl's Grievances, we learn that Girl has a bully who has a truckload of issues. And he makes her cry, so she needs a truckload of tissues. Ha-ha."

"Never do that again."

"Okay, okay. So why does Bully the bully dump his issues onto her? Why, it helps him cope!"

"Please stop talking like that," I say, sipping a bit of water to cool my burning throat. There's something so painfully satisfying about ice-cold water running down a sore throat.

He shakes his head, but goes on. "People like Billy—Bruce— do that to make themselves feel better, so they have an edge over everyone else. Push someone down so you can climb over them. One step closer to the top. Not the best way to cope, but still effective. Not that I'm telling you to go over and bully Chad, your neighborhood geek."

"Love the imagery," I say, not knowing whether I'm being sarcastic or sincere, myself. "But thanks. Really. Thank you."

"For?"

"For making me feel better, I guess."

He smiles. "Let me tell you something. Ever solved a puzzle?" I nod, and he goes on. "You know how hard it is to complete it when your baby brother eats one of the pieces? That's right. You can't solve it. There's always going to be that empty space that you should've been occupying. The puzzle will never be whole again."

"So... I'm a piece of cardboard chewed up by a toddler."

He shrugs and I shake my head. "I don't know if that was supposed to make me feel better. That was disgraceful logic."

"I tried," he grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Alright, you get the credit for trying, good job," I give in.

"Oh, boy!"

"I'm beginning to think that you're the kid who shoved the cardboard puzzle piece down his stupid throat."

"Dang it, you found out," he says cheerfully, not looking embarrassed in the least.

I could've sworn he was sober five minutes ago.

I don't know why this boy is here, why he seems so intent on keeping me company in this lonely room. Maybe I'm just a patient in his eyes. Maybe he feels sorry for me.

But it seems to be working, no matter what his motives are. Patient or not, he makes me feel wanted and loved. Like I do have a place in this world, after all.

That this world does have room for a chewed-up piece of soggy cardboard.