See them on my computer screen.
See them etched into my brain.
Feel them etched into my heart.
Know them deep in my soul.
Remembering.
Don’t want to remember.
Don’t want to live.
Tear rolls down my cheek.
“Christian.”
“Was that Christian she said?”
Doctor is asking. Are they going to do something to him?
I shouldn’t have said it. Open my eyes.
This is real. This is happening.
It was supposed to be over.
Instead of making it better I’ve … just … made … it … worse.
Panda Nurse tapping my knees with the rubber hammer.
Involuntary movement.
I’m awake involuntarily.
I want to go back to sleep.
“Is Christian her boyfriend?” That sounds like Panda Nurse.
BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep.
He hates me. He told me the world would be a better place without me in it. I still don’t know why. But it hurts. It still hurts so badly I don’t want to be awake. I don’t want to be here. I wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Not that we know of,” Mom says. “She doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
“She’s friends with someone named Christian on Facebook and — What?! How can people —”
Sydney’s talking, but now she’s crying.
“Give me your phone!” Daddy. He’s angry.
Daddy’s swearing. “Who are these sick punks? What kind of kids would write this stuff?”
I don’t want to know.
Please don’t make me know.
I don’t want to feel.
PleaseletmegobacktosleepbacktosleepbacktosleepLetmeforgetIthurtsithurtsithurtsithurts.
I hurt.
MOM’S ON the phone with the police, who’ve left the hospital, telling them about this Christian DeWitt, which is his full name according to his Facebook profile. She tried to get Lara to tell her as much as she could, but Lara’s pretty out of it, so Mom hasn’t been able to get much info. Dad wants to go find this Christian guy and rip him limb from limb, and then when he’s done, go find all the other jerks who wrote nasty stuff about Lara on her wall and do the same to them. He made me take a zillion screenshots on my cell of Lara’s profile and Christian’s profile and his friend list and all the people who commented on Lara’s wall and then email them to him so he can start his personal investigation and vendetta. Mom keeps telling him he has to calm down and let the police deal with it.
“Calm down? Our daughter almost died, Kathy!” Dad hisses. “And these animals are telling her she’s fat and ugly and saying she’s better off dead? Who does that? What kind of sick world do we live in?”
“I don’t know.” Mom sighs. “But getting yourself arrested for assault isn’t going to help Lara. Or me. Don’t forget I’ve got an election coming up in November.”
As if any of us could forget that for a second.
“Our daughter is lying in a hospital bed and you’re bringing up the election?”
Dad’s voice is starting to rise. Mom tells him to lower it so he doesn’t make a scene.
Hate to break it to you, Mom, but I think the scene has already been well and truly made.
I take out my cell to check the time. There are, like, a gazillion texts from Maddie and Cara, but I’m not up to reading them now. I just want to go home. It’s already so late I can forget about washing my hair. I’ll be lucky if I even get any sleep before auditions. Like, I know this is a crisis, and my sister is in really bad shape — again — but I’m so sick of being treated like a second-class kid just because Lara is messed up. It’s not fair!! I’m probably going to win the Worst Daughter in the World Award for asking to leave, but I decide to do it anyway.
“Mom … Dad? I know it’s a bad time, but when are we going to go home? I have auditions tomorrow.”
Mom looks like she’s about to explode and is trying very hard to hold it together.
“Sydney, do you understand what is going on here?” she says to me like I’m a three-year-old, which just sets my teeth on edge.
“Yeah. I understand perfectly, Mom. Lara tried to kill herself, which is really, really awful. I was scared she was going to die just like you were. Now she’s going to be okay. I’m happy and relieved about that, honestly, I am. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that Lara’s messing my life up again, just like she always does.”
Mom opens her mouth, probably to tell me how awful and selfish I am, but Dad gestures to her to be quiet.
He puts his arm around me and guides me down the hall away from Lara Watch and my angry mother, who, as usual, doesn’t understand me.
“I need a snack. How about you?”
“I want to go home,” I tell him, my voice cracking despite all my best efforts to stay cool. “I want to be able to audition for the musical tomorrow. I don’t want Lara to ruin this like she does everything.”
Dad stops and turns me so I’m facing him, with his hands on my shoulders. He looks down at me, and when I notice the shadows and lines around his eyes, I feel bad for causing him more problems. But then my fists clench, because why should I always have to be the one who feels bad? I’ve worked hard and now Lara’s screwing things up for me. Story of my life.
“Honey, I know this seems unfair to you,” Dad says. “It is unfair. There’s nothing fair about it.”
“So? How come we can’t go home, then?”
I’ve got two parents here, and they each have a car. One of them could drive me home.
Dad sighs heavily.
“Because we’re a family, and we love and support each other. We’re part of a team. Sometimes,” he says, patting my shoulder, “you just have to take one for the team.”
I shrug his hand off my shoulder. I can’t believe this is happening, again. Actually I can. That’s what’s so messed up about it.
“How come it’s always me who has to take one for the team?” I ask, fighting a lump of angry tears in my throat. “When’s it going to be someone else’s turn?”
Someone else like Lara, for example. But of course, I can’t say that, especially not now.
“Oh, honey, I know …”
Dad hugs me, but I stand stiffly. I don’t want his hug right now. I just want him to take me home. But that’s not going to happen.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text.
“Go back to Lara,” I say. “I’ll be taking one for the team in the family waiting room.”
I can tell he’s torn. He wants to be by Lara’s side, but he’s trying to make it up to me for missing auditions. Like taking me for some crummy hospital cafeteria food could actually do that. Nice try, Dad.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” Dad asks.
“I’ll come get you if I am.”
He kisses the top of my head and heads back to Lara, the important child.
I walk to the visitors lounge to read my text. I need time away from the family drama to be angry on my own.
The text is from Liam.
Hey, Syd. Saw Lara taken in ambulance. Is she okay? Are YOU okay?
I hesitate before texting Liam back. Ever since Lara and Bree stopped being friends, it’s been kind of awkward for us. Like, before, our families used to hang out and do stuff together all the time. Our dads even built a tree fort in the huge oak tree in the Connors backyard when we were younger. It was supposed to be for all of us, but Lara and Bree made it theirs, telling Liam and me that we weren’t welcome because we didn’t know whatever stupid secret passwords they’d made up. Back then, it was Lara and Bree against the two of us despised younger siblings.