You're Not Enough

Chapter 14

"Your mom is going to be in New Haven for the rest of the week." My dad says from across the dinner table.

"Why didn't you tell me that when you picked me up earlier?" I say while trying to chew the greasy pizza we picked up before coming home.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth." He corrects me like I knew he would. I roll my eyes. He continues. "She just texted me."

"Oh. Why isn't she coming home?" I ask.

"She said something about a case. Her firm is handling a big one, and she's been late every day this week. So she thought it would be better to stay out there." He doesn't look at me while he speaks. He's on his phone, avoiding eye contact. I know he is lying. He may not be, though, but I know that's not the only reason mom stayed out there. It's because of their fight, I know it.

"Is it because you guys had a fight? Is it because of me?" My throat is getting tighter. I can feel the water behind my eyes. He looks up from his phone.

"Jayda, It isn't because of you,"

"Then what is it? You and mom never fight? I blurt out.

"Your mom and I haven't been doing so well."

"What are you saying? You guys don't love each other anymore?" The tears are now falling from my eyes.

"No, of course, we love each other. No matter what, I will always love your mother, and she will always love me." I hear his words, but they come out more like he is trying to assure himself rather than me. "We are fine. Your mother and I are working through it." He stands up from the table and walks to my side collecting my plate. He places a hand on my shoulder, and I look up at him.

"We'll get through it this. We all will." He walks away towards our kitchen and places the plates in the sink before walking down the hall.

...

I've finally finished my homework. I had to do calculus word problems. Then I had to write out sentences for Spanish using the 20 words she gave us. I finished everything except for English.

Mr. Brooks emailed us. We have to have one chapter in by tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

How am I supposed to write a love story? I've never been in love. Maybe it would be easier if Ryder helped. He's been in love before I know it. Or perhaps he hasn't.

I lay my head on the desk; I close my eyes. "I can do this," I say out loud to myself. I've seen plenty of love movies. I never understood them, but I've seen them. I can use a plot from one of the billions of love movies there are.

But what movie? I could always do Les Miserables; it is one of my favorite movies. Then again, it's kind of dark. I would love it, but I dont think it will appeal to everyone else. Maybe it's too dark for their bright unharmed minds.

My phone rings, tearing me away from my thoughts; it's ten now; it has to be my mother; no one else calls me.

I walk over and fall stomach first on my bed, then turn over my phone. Surprisingly it's not my mother; it's Violet. I forgot we exchanged numbers; I didn't expect her to actually call me.

I answer the phone. "Hey, Jayda." her high pitched voice says.

"Hey."

"What's wrong?" she asks me.

"Nothing just trying to figure out what to write about for Brooks class."

"So, Ryder is seriously not going to do it with you?" There's some sort of anger behind her voice.

"Yeah, no. I saw him in the hallway during science, and he told me he didn't want to do it with me and that I can do it myself, and he'll just put his name on it."

"Are you going to let him do that?"

"I don't know. I mean, it would be easier for me to do it by myself. At least that's what I thought."

"Well, what changed?"

"It's hard." I let out a deep breath.

"I can help you. Maybe James too. I mean, he is a boy."

The phone goes silent, and then we both laugh.

"It's ok. I'll figure something out. How are you and James doing it? What did you two come up with?" I ask her.

"Long story short. Juliet will die, and Romeo will go off to marry a man."

"So, Romeos bisexual?" My words come out in a laugh.

"Yeah, basically. That was the compromise," she says.

"Well, this should be good."

"That's just the ending, though. Romeo and Juliet will be together throughout the book, but just half and the other half will be Romeo and whomever. We both laugh again. I hear someone call her name. "Alright, I got to go, but I'll see you tomorrow at school, bye."

"Bye," I say before the line hangs up.

...

The water feels so good on my skin. I love taking warm baths, just floating in the water. It was weird being on the phone with someone other than my mom or dad. I never had a normal teenage life.

Especially one, where I talk to friends about my problems over the phone, well some of my problems. I don't want Violet to know anything about my cutting or about me trying to kill myself.

Shell look at me differently. I know she will. Despite the millions of rumors going around school about me, she told me that she wanted to know me the real me. I wish people thought like her.

Why do people have to be so judgmental?

I lift my arms from out of the warm water. The cuts were so deep; they had to stitch my skin back together to get the bleeding under control. Now its large slice marks across my wrist. I don't regret cutting; I don't regret trying to end my life.

The only thing I regret is not cutting deep enough; I regret missing the chance I had to end it all.

The razor I snatched from the science lab it sitting on top of my towel next to me on the toilet; I pick it up; it's light. This one object could end my life right here. I can cut my wrist right here, right now, and this time Ill be sure to cut deep enough that I won't survive.

I softly move the razor against my wrist and close my eyes. I remember the feeling I felt, slicing my skin. I was at peace; I wasn't scared, I wasn't afraid. I was ready.

It hurts that my parents won't be at peace if I go. They'll get over it, but they will need each other to do so. They won't survive if they' apart, and for that, I won't give in to my selfish desire today.

I still want to die. I still want to end it all, but I'm not selfish. I won't leave them now when they need me the most when they are most vulnerable.

But Ill still cut. I take the razor and move it across my wrist fast. I don't cut deep just enough for a flesh wound. Just enough to make me feel something. There's not much blood, but my skin does turn red. I take my right wrist and cut quick and fast like I did the other. I inhale a deep breath and lay back in the tub. I close my eyes and try to hold onto this feeling, this high. For, however, long it lasts.