All Four Of Me

Chapter 31

KENZIE

The world blurs around me as my body plummets hastily back towards the earth. Gentle whispers of early summer air glide across my skin and the feeling of it whipping through my already tousled hair soothes some of the craters in my soul. There is a searing moment of anticipation as I wait for my body to connect with the ground beneath me, but once my back makes contact with the surface below, the feeling is quickly replaced by elation as I am propelled back up towards the sky.

I have been out here for almost two hours now and like the past afternoons I have spent jumping on the trampoline this week, I am lucky enough to be treated to the most perfect of conditions. Truthfully, I should be using this time to complete my homework, but considering it is almost the end of the year and my entire education is currently in limbo, I decided that spending a little extra time de-stressing and having fun was a far more beneficial option.

With this mandatory excursion happening tomorrow, I have felt my anxiety steadily begin to climb over the past few days, and the extra time on the trampoline has acted as the perfect distraction when that stress becomes too much for me to handle. Despite not having slept properly for several consecutive days now, I have done my best to keep the exhaustion from causing havoc in our household, but I'm fairly certain that everyone is well aware of my delicate condition.

Even Ben, who is usually jumping at the bit to hang out with me has kept his distance this week in the hopes that I will get some much needed rest instead. He has even banned me from working in the restaurant kitchen, fearing that I will accidentally injure myself in my fatigued state. Despite multiple attempts to convince him otherwise, Ben has remained solid on his decision and after he threatened to dob me in to Nathan and Will, I decided to just let it go.

James and I have spoken several times since my last session with Dr Miler and although he has tried his hardest to convince me to accept Dr Miller's recommendations, I'm still not entirely sold on the idea of taking anti-depressants. Although, his explanation of the drugs and how they work has cleared up a lot of my concerns so I can't say that his efforts have been completely in vain, but it doesn't make it any easier to make an informed decision when my judgement is almost completely clouded by fatigue.

At this point, there have only been a few things that have helped me cope with my overwhelming exhaustion and the unshakeable sense of panic that has continued to build as my mother's parole hearing grows closer. The first being endless cuddles with my trusty pal Basil, who despite not being able to protect me from my dreams, has acted as a reliable source of comfort through the worst of the aftermath. The next one being my appointment as head chef within the household. After allowing me to cook dinner the past couple of nights everyone insisted (with my agreement) that I should take over dinner duty on a regular basis. I get the feeling that this is one of their ways of trying to include me further in their schedules, but regardless I am grateful for the distraction it has provided.

Which leads me to the final (and possibly the funnest) of my three coping mechanisms: the trampoline.

Don't get me wrong, I love cooking more than almost anything else in the world, but when I am in the kitchen there is a lot that can go wrong and it usually requires my full concentration. With the trampoline, I don't have to think about anything. I can just jump and forget that the world around me even exists.

Nathan has scolded me twice already for attempting to nail a front flip, but each time I just brush him off and continue jumping normal until he turns his hawk like gaze away from the kitchen window again. Sure, I don't particularly want to break any of my bones, but if I did, I would much rather hurt myself trying to achieve something awesome. Painful experiences are nothing new to me, but never have my injuries been sustained by doing something fun.