Alternative

November 8, 2008 at 1:17PM

I don't know how to live properly. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing.

I need someone to tell me what to do.

I don't deserve all this freedom. It's too much. I can't handle it.

Somebody lock me up.

Keep an eye on me.

Feed me. Let me read books or whatever. But don't let me choose them. Choose the books for me. Choose everything for me.

Alex and I still aren't talking. He started hanging out with some of the other guys at Harvest, the ones who never go to class. I'm trying to focus on school, to make sure to study and finish my assignments on time. I don't really have anything else to put my energy into.

Beth and I see each other in the classes we have together, and sometimes we take the same streetcar to the subway, holding hands when the opportunity arises.

But things don't seem to be getting better with her mom. I don't know what's happening exactly, but she doesn't seem to want to talk about it, so I'm not pressing. She just says her parents need her at home and she can't hang out right now. They also aren't allowing her to have rehearsals there anymore, so the band's on hold.

I get a call from her asking if I can come over and talk. 

My heart is racing.

She sits me down on her bed, which feels weird. The walls are bright aqua, and she has a small fish tank in the corner of the room.

We haven't spent any time here since we started seeing each other. I wasn't sure me being in here was okay with her parents, but they didn't seem to be around.

"They're out of town today, visiting my aunt," she explains.

"So... what's up?" I ask.

She hesitates. Looks on edge, bags under her eyes.

"My mom had.... uh, this doctor's appointment this week..."

I knew things were tense with her parents but didn't know it had anything to do with her mom's health.

"Is she okay?" I ask.

She looks at me intensely, her mind elsewhere. Then turns her gaze downward.

"We don't know..."

Why is she telling me this?

"The thing is, I haven't mentioned it to anyone, but I've been noticing odd things... like she seems really tired a lot. She's been taking naps, which she never used to do. I don't know, I'm just sort of freaked out and I had to talk to someone about it."

"I'm sure she's okay," I respond. (Stupid response.)

"I hope so," she says. "I know I've been stressing her out lately... like, we've been fighting a lot..."

"Yeah, I know."

"I just keep wondering if maybe I contributed to the way she's feeling or something, which I can't... I just... if that has anything to do with whatever she's struggling with... I don't think I could ever forgive myself."

She starts to get teary-eyed. It suddenly feels really hot in the room. I can see a bead of sweat on her forehead running down to her eyebrow. She wipes it away, along with her tears, and shifts her position on the bed.

"There's nothing you can do until she finds out more about what's going on with her," I say.

This seems to land with her so I continue.

"And you can't blame yourself for this. Stress doesn't create disease. Maybe it's not the best when someone's dealing with an illness, but it can't be the original cause of any disease."

She looks like she's taking in what I'm saying, thinking about it, maybe even beginning to see it the way I do. I don't really know what I'm saying, if it's at all true, but it seems like the right thing so I continue.

"So, it's not your fault. And how were you to know she might have something wrong with her?"

"I know," she says, looking towards the door of her room, as if her mom had suddenly appeared.

"When does she get back results? She had some kind of test?"

"Yeah, a biopsy is what it's called. It's when they extract sample cells from the area. She gets back the results Wednesday morning."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do. I can come by afterwards or something?"

"No, no that's okay. I think that might be... yeah... I'll see you probably first period... I'm sure it'll all be okay..."

"Yeah," I say.

I put my hand on hers. She leans towards me and puts her head on my chest.

We stay like that for about a minute until she says I should probably get going because her parents might be heading back soon.