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The Visitor

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Dear Mom, I write, I’m sorry I---

I crumple the sheet of paper and toss it into the pile before I break down into sobs. Why was it so hard? I’m not going to see her again. She would never know why I did it. So why can’t I get the words out?

It’s not as if she’ll notice either. Not right away at least. As of now, I’m not even sure if she’s in the house. I’m home alone again. My dad’s off on his business trips which happen every other day. His business trips are more important than anything...more important than my birthdays...more important than my brother’s graduation from high school...

His home isn’t here. He lives on the business class seat of the airplane. I could disappear off this planet without him noticing. Maybe this place is a prison to him. Just like it is to me. I can’t even use school to get out of here; my parents are embarrassed to look at my grades..

Why can’t I just do it? I can’t even get this right. It’s not even that hard. Just two cuts on the wrist should do it. Someone sooner or later will discover my body. Not my brother: he’s in college. Not my dad: he’s in the air. Probably my mom when she comes back from where ever she is.

I can’t get anything right in life. My “friends” act as if they don’t know me in front of other people. Boys recoil when I speak to them; it’s as if I’m an animal. I can’t even look at the mirror anymore without crying. I want to hack myself off this planet. I just want to leave this world. Not that anyone would notice.

Just do it, I tell myself. Otherwise they’ll come home and see.

I take the knife in my hand.

DING DONG!

The sound of the doorbell makes me drop my weapon. I hide the knife under the bed so my mom doesn’t notice and run to open the door.

My jaw drops.

It’s my brother.

“Hey,” he says, “I thought I’d come for a while.”

I don’t know what to say. Then I stammer out, “Don’t you have class today?”

He raises his eyebrows, “I figured since Mom and Dad aren’t home that often, I might as well drop over. And cutting class won’t kill me. You’re more important.”

I just stare at the ground.

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

“I---” I try to think. Did I eat dinner? I can’t even recall the last meal I ate! Was it breakfast in the morning? I think so. I probably grabbed a granola bar on the way to school. The meal-cutting didn’t do anything to my body. It just made me hungrier. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve thinner, you know.”

Have I? My body was always the same in the mirror.

“Leah, what’s going on? You keep on---”

“Just go away!” I finally explode. “Go away! Leave me alone!” I try to slam the door on him, but he pushes it aside and enters the home.

“What’s wrong Leah?”

“Everything! Everything’s wrong, okay? Leave me alone!”

My brother looks at me straight in the face, “You’re my sister, moron. I’m not leaving you. Now come on, you need to eat.”

That does it for me. What all the gifts my mom gave me couldn’t. I hug him just like I did when we were little kids. Only this time, he doesn’t try to pry me off.

That night, I don’t take my life. Nor the next night. Nor the rest of the nights of my life.



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AddictedToWriting said...
Jun. 7, 2011 at 3:41 pm:

Wow.  Very good.  The dialogue was a little bit confusing near the end.  I think you skipped some words. :) 

 

Good job, though.  You did a nice job with intensity.

 
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