Insomnia // Billie Eilish

Chapter 42

"Okay, listen, Mackenzie." Ms. Roberts looked at me over her glasses, the light hitting her hazel eyes. She was one of the only adults that didn't dress terribly here. She was only a few years older than me, so it was kind of weird talking to her like this, but in a way, more comfortable. "I know you don't want to be here, but I'm trying to help you."

I simply nodded and waited for her to continue.

"There are a lot of rumors going around about you, and I'm not sure which ones are true."

I nodded again.

"So, I'm going to name one and you will tell me whether it is true or false. Sound good?"

"Mm-hm."

"Okay." She looked down at a paper. "We're just gonna dive right in. You're brother and mom were abusive?"

"True," I mumbled.

"You threatened Bryant Walker?"

"Bullshit."

"You're little sister died?"

"True."

"You're gay?"

"True."

"You tried to kill yourself last year?" I swallowed, chewing on my lip and she looked up at me. "Mackenzie?"

"What is the point of this?" I threw my arms up.

"In order to help you, I need to know what's going on in your life. Did you or did you not try to kill yourself last year?"

"I did," I replied, quietly.

She took a deep breath. "Why?"

"There was just too much..."

"Of what?"

"Everything." I shrugged.

"Elaborate," she pressed.

"Too many thoughts. Too many words. Too much hate. Too much pressure. There was just too much."

"Okay." She leaned back in her chair.

"How about now? How do you feel now? Do you ever want to hurt yourself?"

I shrugged, rolling my eyes. "Sometimes."

"Why?"

"Like I said. There's just too much of everything and I don't know how to deal with it. When things upset me, hurting myself seems like the only right answer. It's something that I can control and it's something that makes me feel better."

"Okay..." She nodded. "When is the last time you thought about hurting yourself?"

"A few days ago."

"What was going on?" she asked.

"I got my ass kicked," I replied, dryly.

"By who?"

"You won't believe me."

She folded her arms in front of her and set them on her desk. "Try me."

"Bryant Walker and his friends."

She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Are you sure? He's such a good student."

I threw my hands up in the air, chewing on the plastic end of my hoodie string. "What the fuck do you mean 'am I sure?'" I mocked her. "It was his foot I watched kick me over and over in my stomach and his hands punching me in the face."

"Okay. You're right. I'm sorry. Of course you remember. Moving on..." She shuffled some papers. "When is the last time that you did hurt yourself."

I thought for a minute and sunk down in the seat a little more, spinning it around in circles. "Umm..." I bit my lip. "My mom made me break up with my girlfriend and we were going to move back to Oklahoma. I guess I was really upset and I just... I just did it."

"She made you break up with your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, she uh..." I laughed nervously, scratching the back of my neck. "She had a gun and she said that she'd shoot her if I didn't."

Ms. Roberts took in a breath, pursing her lips and looking up at me. Her eyebrows knitted together as she tilted her head. "How'd you hurt yourself?"

"I, uh... I cut my arm."

"Have you ever considered going to see somebody about all of the stuff you've been through."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, a therapist."

I shook my head. "No."

"Maybe you should?" she offered, questioningly.

I stood up and pull my backpack on. "No. I don't want to do that and I think I've had about enough of this for right now, so I'll see you Monday, Ms. Roberts."

"Just one more thing." She grabbed my wrist. "Technically, with the things you've told me today, I'm supposed to recommend that you be sent to a rehabilitation center, but I genuinely don't believe that's in your best interest. Don't tell anybody what you've told me today."

"Got it."

"Okay. See you Monday, Mackenzie."

Somebody slammed me into the wall as soon as I walked a little further away from her office. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You just can't keep your damn mouth shut, huh? This is why I always have to fuck you up. So help me, Mackenzie, let me hear my name in your mouth one more time!" Bryant stared at me, shoving me into the wall once more for good measure. "Go fix it. Tell her you lied."

I drew in a shaky breath and nodded. "O-okay. I will." He looked me up and down before walking away.

I made my way back into Ms.Roberts office. "Is everything okay, Mackenzie," she asked, not looking up from her computer.

"I just—uhm—I lied." I scratched the back of my head.

She hummed in response, still staring at her computer. "About what?"

"It—it wasn't Bryant."

She finally looked at me. "Then who was it?" I opened my mouth and then closed it, not knowing what to say. "Did he threaten you?"

"What?" I looked around in the halls to see if Bryant was anywhere.

"So, he did." She pulled her glasses off. "Don't worry. I'm not going to say anything. I know it would probably make things worse."

"Thank you."

-

I walked out of the locker room and I was immediately greeted by Olivia and Bryant. "Hello, Mackenzie," Olivia said, a wide smile plastered on her face.

"Come with us and act like it's normal." Bryant interlocked our arms. "Smile and act like we're having a pleasant conversation." What the actual fuck are they doing?

"Where are we going?"

"Shutup and keep walking." They lead me down a couple of hallways. "I heard that you didn't correct yourself in Ms. Roberts office. I almost got kicked off of the football team." He opened the janitor's closet and shoved me inside. "Have a nice weekend, Jones."

I twisted the doorknob. It was locked. "Let me out of here!"

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Bryant? Isn't this like false imprisonment?"

"It's the weekend. It'll be fine. She's not gonna tell on us anyways. Not after this. You have her phone, right?"

"Yep," Olivia said.

"Put it in your locker."

"What if somebody tracks it?" she asked, warily.

"Trust me, nobody is looking for her." He scoffed and their footsteps became faint.

I banged on the door. "Let me out!"