metanoia

Chapter Ten

I woke up in the morning completely confused. How did I end up in this bed? It smells like cookies in here. Oh, it's Evie's room! There's Evie! My thoughts were all over the place. I rolled over to watch her sleep. Her breathing was slow and shallow, and her eyelids squeezed shut and fluttered every once in a while. Sometimes she made little squeaking noises, and in response to those, I smiled. All she had on was her bra and underwear, so I could see all the scars on her belly and her legs. Now I know why she wears those thigh-highs. I thought. She wore pretty revealing clothes, but the only scars she left uncovered were the few on her wrists. Most of them were covering the skin on her belly and hips, and there were lots of them. I'd say about 65% of her tummy skin was decorated with little pink scars. I thought she was beautiful as a person, but how could she do such ugly things to herself? I wondered if she'd stopped. I couldn't see anything fresh on her, but I couldn't tell. She was probably told by her therapist that she had to stop. I wondered if she even talked to her therapist.

I slid out of bed slowly so I wouldn't wake Evie up, and I decided to go to the kitchen. When I got there, I hunted around for a couple mugs, and when I opened a cupboard I found a stack of plates and 3 shelves of coffee mugs. She had pink, blue, yellow, black, white, mugs with animals, words, and patterns on them, every kind of coffee cup imaginable. I picked up a black one for me and a pink one for her, and I made up one of her teas for her, a cup of black coffee for me. I got out her toaster and started 3 pieces of toast, and while I looked through the refrigerator for butter, I heard her floor creaking with her steps. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, her hair a mess.

"Morning, early bird." She mumbled.

"Morning, sleepy head." I smiled and gave her a little nose kiss. She smiled too.

"What are you looking for?" she asked, peeking into the fridge.

"Butter," I said. "I'm making us some toast. Do you have therapy today?" I wrapped my arms around her and held her close in a hug while she answered.

"Yeah..." she replied to my shoulder. "I don't like therapy." she buried her head in my shoulder as she said it.

"Why not, Evie?" I asked as I started to stroke her hair.

"I don't like to talk to people. I don't think she really cares about what I have to say."

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"She's not being paid. The doctors gave me a therapist for free. She can't be happy about that. I wouldn't be." Evie pulled back and started wringing her hands between the fabric of her big sleep shirt. "I don't even think she likes me, Michael."

I sighed. "Well, you're still going to go." I told her firmly.

"Not if I don't want to." She replied. "It's my choice."

"Not really." I said, popping up my on-the-brink-of-burnt toast. "You need help. You can't just skip out on it."

"Why don't they just give me meds?" she asked, crossing her arms. She was making me mad.

"Evie, you specifically told them you didn't want meds. They make you numb, remember?"

"I'd rather be numb than go to stupid therapy." She growled.

"Well, you're going. I'm not talking about this anymore. Do you want some toast?" I said, trying to calm down as I slathered butter all over the rough black toast that would probably taste like total shit.

"Sure." Evie snapped. She sat at the table and waited for her toast. I brought over her mug and her toast, and her expression softened.

"You made me my favorite tea in my special cup..." she said, smiling up at me.

"Yeah, except I burned the toast..." I said, sitting beside her.

"It's okay. TV?" she asked, grabbing the remote for the little screen she had on her miniature TV stand.

"Sure." I said, and she clicked it on. We sat eating disgusting toast and drinking warm drinks all morning in our PJs with the sun shining through the window in our little house. I think Evie was really, truthfully happy.