The Impact

I Wish I Was Dreaming

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Chapter 3: Defeated? Nah, rise back up

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'There are two sorrows in the world, one is losing your heart's desire and the other is gaining it'-One Tree Hill

I ran fast towards the water, the sea was deep and blue. The waves flushed over the shore like they seemed to be raging and trying to be free from the strains. The bubbles on the end of each shore disappeared as soon as they slowed down and new bubbles took their place. The potent water had a beauty and force of attraction that would remain beautiful no matter what. A place that looked striking even when angry. But at the moment the beauty didn't attract me. My eyes roam the surface of the raging and ice cold water and settle on the thin and petite girl with brown hair. She screams for help and her hand is outstretched, as if to grab hold of something that she'll probably never be able to grasp, something that isn't even there. She calls out my name, her voice taken over by the sound of the rampant water. Every minute I stand there watching, feeling pity and thinking of how to save her is a minute of her life shortened. Finally her head disappears under the violent waves as her body sinks down to the depths unknown to me. Only when I'm sure that she's dead and gone, I scream out her name, stretching my hand out to grab her even when I know she's too far out gone.

"Sam!" I woke up with a gasp and try to catch my breath. I looked around and tried to adjust to my surroundings. It's not hard to make out that I'm in a hospital. I look down and find that the white sheets are crumpled in my tightly clenched fists. My palms are all sweaty and I blink thrice to gather myself. Memories of last time come back to me, crying and fainting in the washroom and seeing Sam. Wait, Sam! Just the thought of her name is enough to bring me to my senses. I try to free myself of the drip that holds me back. Before I can even get myself in the posture of getting up my mom rushes over to me and strokes my hair gently.

"Oh honey, we were so worried" she whispers close to my ear. The door opens and my dad rushes in to embrace me.

"What happened?" I ask; my voice weak and weary.

"You had some deficiencies, you've probably not been taking enough care of yourself" my mom answers my query and goes on "There was dehydration, lack of food and too much weakness" she keeps fussing over me which makes me mad. Why didn't anyone fuss over Sam like this? She could have lived if somebody would have cared enough about her. But my thoughts backfire at me; I should have been the one to care enough for her. Fuming at myself I brush my mother's hand away and ease myself out of my father's grasp. If I didn't give Sam enough care, I don't deserve it either.

"Honey what's wrong?" my mom asks me

"Nothing, I just want to be alone" I shrug

"You have eat first" dad says

"NO" I reply stubbornly and cross my arms over my chest. They look at me with expressions I can't make out. Hurt, anger, distress, fear and fret all surround their faces. My mom sighs and gets up and makes her way out of the room. I feel guilty after seeing her grief stricken form and say quietly before she leaves.

"Okay I'll eat" I sigh defeated.

Eating wasn't the first thing on my mind and on top of that the not-very-tasty hospital food was anything but edible. I toy around with my food and eat it at the pace of a snail. All the time my mind keeps drifting to the drowning Sam and how I just stood there watching, pitying her and only realizing I needed to do something when it was all too late. The doctors gave me some supplements to gain my strength back and advised me to eat properly and drink a lot of water. I roll my eyes at their prescribed medicines, not that I'll be taking them anyway.

When I go back home I just go directly to my room and plop down on my bed. I lie down and pick up my cell phone. With no thoughts at all I dial Sam's number and wait as it goes to voicemail. "Hi" I whisper, knowing damn well that it won't be of any use.

"I miss you, a lot. Like, things haven't been same since you left" I feel a lump forming at the back of my throat and I know well enough that she won't be able to hear this. "Still don't get it though; I can't really believe it. You left, left me and I just-" I throw it back on the bed and close my eyes. I wish there were visiting hours in heaven.

She knew me, she knew so well. But did she know me well enough to be sure that this would devastate me to no limit? What was she even thinking? My eyes well up. I wipe the tears away and clench my fists tight to keep from crying. No, I'm not going to cry. I'm not weak. I'll fight till the very end, even if I have to do something, anything wrong. Who cares about right and wrong? It doesn't matter. It's not right to say that you should be a good person in life. What do get from being nice to everyone and listening to all the crap your 'preachers' say?

Death, that's what you get. Nothing else. I know that Sam's mom will be coming to school tomorrow and I mentally prepare myself for the visit. She won't have her way this time. What's the worst the school could do about me being rude to a parent? Detention, suspension and what else? I don't care, nobody does.

I know that somehow I am being irrational, I mean her mother must be devastated too right? But then why did she not help her own daughter? I had always known Sam didn't have much of close relationship with her mother, but then why, when parenting went wrong; did my Sam have to suffer?

I get up and walk to my cupboard. I take out a blouse that I had always loved. It looked so cute. It was pink, with white polka dots and frilled at the bottom. The top was fitted and the bottom part had a nice flair. I picked up a pair of scissors and cut down the blouse.

Snap

One cut and I felt as if the scissor had cut right through my heart. Pieces of cloth fall to the ground as I continue snapping. I cut of the full sleeves that always gave a princess-y look, leaving just bare straps. I cut on until I'm left with a tight, skin fitted and sleeveless top that probably the shortest thing I have in my closet. Even though it hurts to have ruined it I mange to smile and be proud as I hold up my creation in front of myself. I place it over my body to check the size and turn around to the mirror.

"There" I say with a smile that I myself have never smiled, "That's something more like what a girl like me should wear" I stare at my reflection in the mirror, hate raging in my body like volcanoes ready to erupt at the girl I see staring back at me.

"Freak", I hiss at her.