Flashcards On The Wall

Chapter 38: Mistakes

I knock on Tash's already open door.

"Can I come in?" I ask.

She's sitting on her bed, one foot folded underneath her, the other planted firmly on the ground. I step inside and lean on the wall facing her.

"I'm sorry I'm being a jerk," I say.

"What?" she asks.

"Look, I can feel it. My emotions are all over the place but that doesn't excuse how I'm treating you. I know you're only trying to help and I love you so much for it," I hope she sees that I really mean what I'm saying. "It was kind of you to think of a distraction. Even though I'm clearly not in an appreciative mood at the moment. I'm sorry. Maybe I lash out at you because you don't understand me, but that's not your fault. I honestly hope you never do understand. I hope you never have the feelings and thoughts I'm having but I really need just a bit of space.

"You're my best friend Amelia. I want to help you," Tash says.

"I'm not your responsibility Tash. You think I didn't notice that you haven't seen Sean this week when you practically live with him most of the time now? You're keeping an eye on me because you think I can't be trusted by myself, but I don't need to be babysat," I say.

"I'm not babysitting you. Are you scaring me a little? Yes. I mean you go hours just sitting on the couch without saying a word. Then I turn around and you're crying. I don't even think you realize you're doing it sometimes. You aren't sleeping. I hear you up doing stuff. Cleaning something, or organizing a closet, or moving the furniture," she explains.

"That's because I can't sleep," I reply.

"You're not eating and think that's no big deal," Tash continues, "A part of me thinks I should act normal, and then another thinks, how can I? I wish I knew what I was supposed to say, but I don't."

Poor Tash. She sounds worried.

"You don't have to say anything. I'm not good around people right now. I know I have to get over that, but right now I can't. It's been a week and I'm not ready yet. I know I have to get back to classes, work, life and I don't know how I'm going to," I admit.

"I'm here," Tash reminds me.

"I know that, even when I don't say it. Just treat me like normal and please be patient while I get there because it might take a while," I say.

"I can do that," I find comfort in the smile she gives me. It makes me glad to know my pushing her away was unsuccessful.

"Can we do a raincheck on the whole museum thing?" I ask.

"Sure," she replies.

"Thanks," I make my way towards the door.

"Millie?" she asks.

I turn to her.

"You know it wasn't your fault, right? What happened," she says.

What?

She continues, "I said a few things the other day that were hurtful."

"Don't worry about it," I respond.

"What I said was worded wrongly. I didn't mean to blame you in any way. I've heard girls often blame themselves when this kind of thing happens. I'd assume a little more so when the attacker is someone they know," she explains.

I do blame myself. How could I not? I followed him up to that room. I trusted a person I didn't know. I went against my instincts. Of course I'm to blame.

"I only wanted to say that you aren't to blame and you didn't deserve this Millie. Nobody does," she tells me.

She's right. Nobody does.