Dusk

Chapter 3: Stay

Six months flew by like the little yellow finches that began to frequent the yard of the farmhouse as the season shifted to late spring. The passage of time was almost completely unnoticed to me as I fell into a routine with my schoolwork, excelling in every course, though I didn't live up to my own personal standards in most of them. Most of my free time was spent studying indoors instead of enjoying the warming weather (I never cared for springtime anyway) as I knew final exams were coming up in just a couple of months. The load of pressure and labor I placed on myself was debilitating. I was constantly going down on myself for receiving anything less than an A on essays and tests, and, as I continued to fail myself, I could feel myself slipping into a darker and darker place. I was moving from my normally joyous, laughing, joking exterior self into my inner self, a generally more quiet soul with dark humor and a deep, broken desire to be loved and cared for.

Throughout this difficult time in my life, my friend group was extremely important. The three people closest to me were Natalie, Erik, and Tyler. In a way, I found Ty's presence in my life to be a steady rock amidst the storm. He tended to hold his own emotions within, but he was always there to listen, to calm me down whenever I needed. He didn't feed into the drama around him. Consistently, he was the stable one of the group, who could be relied on for his logical thinking and problem solving skills, as well as his smooth and soothing tone of voice that seemed to be able to still a hurricane.

That's why, when I saw the cut on his arm, I was astounded.

I found him just as I had stepped out of class for a quick breather under the guise of a bathroom break. That's when I noticed. Blood dripping onto the floor. A fresh, large cut on his left forearm. Distant eyes, tinged with sorrow and emotions buried for years upon years. Fear. Shame. He stared down at the tiles of the hallway, and I could see his body shaking slightly. He was stiff, trying to hide the pain, leaning back on the lockers behind him for any kind of support. He looked so...lost. Before I knew it, I had instinctively moved to stand in front of Ty like a protective mother to block the curious stares of those walking by, whispering as they realized something was going on. I had no words of comfort to offer, no solution to the things that incited this act of violence on his own body. All I could do was wrap him in my arms. I don't know how long I held him, and I don't know how many people watched and snickered under their breaths. I didn't care. In that moment, it was just him...and I. He was the only person in the world; all of my attention, all of my care poured onto him like a fountain of chocolate over two thick scoops of freezing cold ice cream.

He barely responded by resting his head against mine. In that moment, the only word that came to my mind, then made its way to my quivering lips was, "Stay."

I wasn't able to force my mind to tell my mouth to speak before teachers were breaking up the crowd of people that had, unbeknownst to me, formed around us. Mrs. Wilkins, the literature teacher, had a gentle hand on my shoulder, pulling me back and away. I wanted to protest, tears forming in my eyes, but I couldn't. I couldn't move, I could barely breathe as I was escorted away and down the hall. I glanced back once, and caught a glimpse of Tyler's slouching shoulders heading in the opposite direction, towards the nurse's office. I was brought to the principal's office and encouraged to tell all I knew about the incident. In a numb tone, I detailed how I found my friend in the hall, but I couldn't give all of the answers. I had no idea when, why, how, or what exactly had caused this to occur. Eventually, after feeling I had been interrogated for hours on end, I was allowed to go back to class.

For the rest of the day, I wondered about the incident. How could he feel so alone? Why,
when Nat, Erik and I had done our best to show him we cared? We had invited him in, made him a part of our group. We...I...just wanted to give him support. I wanted to be there. But I wasn't. I wasn't there when he needed me most. I felt guilty. It was my fault.

I should've done better.