Coloring Outside the Lines

Chapter Thirty-Three

December 29

My mom sent me to a special doctor who apparently can help me. He talks to me about my feelings and stuff, yet I don't want to tell that old, bearded man a single word about how intact my emotions are.

So, he gave me this journal.

He told me to write out any and every thought I have. He said to me, 'Let go, let go of your barriers. Break them down and spill everything onto these pages.' Barriers? Yes, mine are cracking and my emotions and thoughts are leaking through and driving me absolutely insane.

So here is this journal, where I am supposed to share how I am doing mentally and physically, yet I don't have a clue.

My words are mushing together and creating a pile of nothing inside my brain and they don't want to escape when my parents try to talk to me. I try not to hear them when they tell me everything is going to be okay, because I know it's not true. Life isn't a fairy tale. It doesn't work itself to your schedule or survive solely to please you. It rips you apart so devastatingly and takes that happiness away from you in exchange for the breaths you take. There's nothing you can do about that, it's just how things work.

I just have to learn to live with that, no matter how painful.

***

January 5

He's still there.

Breathing.

Laying.

Sleeping.

Dying.

And I can't reach out to help him. I can only simply watch his misery. I can only whisper words to him that he can't actually hear or respond to, they're lost.

I haven't spoken a word to my parents. They tell me they're worried. They tell me they want to help me, that they can. They can make me happy again, if I let them in.

But I can't, because they don't feel this. They can try to feel the sadness, they can try to mourn, but they'll never truly know what I'm going through right now. They'll never know what's tearing me apart.

I don't go to school. I don't want the pitiful eyes following my every footstep. I don't want their supposedly understanding words. Nobody really knows.

***

January 10

My parents are making me go to school now. They tell me about how they know its difficult, but I can't let my education whither to nothing.

So, at school I keep my head down and try to be left alone. Of course, there are always those people that I don't actually know who run up to me and tell me they're so sorry about everything.

I visit Ray every day after school. I just sit by him and tell him about my day. I know he can't actually hear me, but it makes me feel less alone.

I also work at the bookstore again. Sheryl has been kind and talks to me a lot, about my day. She tells me about her kids and how her husband has to go to Washington for a work trip.

I tell her about how school has been really hard and the homework load is crazy. We don't talk about Ray or Lizzie. We don't mention either of their absences even though it would be regular of them to be there.

***

January 19

My mom has started to really worry about me. I keep overhearing her tell my dad about how worried she is that I won't ever be okay again. She has convinced herself that I'm depressed and lonely. Maybe I am. I wouldn't know.

Jack Martin has, surprisingly, started talking to me. He has been coming to my house after school and talking with me. He is actually a really nice and funny person.

He is one of the only things that makes me smile now.

He doesn't ever ask about what happened or if I'm okay. He doesn't press into my deep personal life. He's just a friend who has been helping me to have positive moments in my life again.

Sierra? I don't have a clue where she is. She must have abandoned any terms of our friendship when he realized that I have such emotional problems now. My mom says she might not be able to handle it. I think she doesn't want to have to carry someone else's grief. I can understand that, I suppose. I am a heavy load right now.

***

January 24

Yesterday, Jack and I went to this really pretty orchard.

There were apple trees all over and the green grass made me feel at home. We climbed the trees and picked a bunch of apples, before it actually started raining. We grabbed all the apples we could and headed to his house.

We attempted to make an apple pie, but you could imagine how that turned out since we are both horrendous cooks. His mom gladly took over and baked it for us.

When we ate it, he started telling me about how he and Audrey, that stupid sophomore finally broke up. She was really demanding. He told me that she didn't like her Christmas present so he was forced to get her a different necklace of her choice. She also told him he was stupid and could never make it in the real world.

So he dumped her two days ago, at their three month anniversary dinner by getting up after eating his food and handing her the bill, telling her she was a useless, trashy waste of money and left her with the meal to pay for. Yeah, that's a crummy way to break up with someone, but thinking back to how Audrey acted makes me not feel the least bit sorry for her. It also has the makings of a fantastic story Jack will tell his future kids.

I still visit Ray all the time, and it doesn't get any easier to be in that little hospital room. The doctor is saying that there's still no way to really know when he will wake up. His ribs are healing, and so is his broken collarbone. He had to get stitches on his head from where the glass from the windshield cut him.

He is slowly healing, but that small fact doesn't ensure that he'll actually wake up. The small hope inside of me is dissolving the longer he stays asleep.

***

February 2

My mom is letting me stop going to Dr. Davidson's every Wednesday. She thinks I'm doing better, yatta yatta. The truth is, I'm just doing a better job at hiding my pain.

Jack is helping me a lot. He came with me to visit Ray in the hospital yesterday. He was silent and respectful and I told him all about the memories I had with Ray.

The envelope I gave Ray on Christmas was still on his bedside table. I picked it up and ripped it open. Inside were all the paintings I made of our best memories. I took them out one by one and showed them to Jack. I laughed at the best memories before bursting into tears looking at them.

Jack took them and put them back onto the table and just held me there as I cried endlessly.

***

February 10

I finally decided to go to Lizzie's grave for the first time. It was surrounded by daisies, roses, lilies, and tulips. There was a picture of her sitting in the middle and little windmills. It broke my heart to even look at it, because there was also a note from her mom about the memory of her life. You see tearstains on the paper.

I laid there in the grass, looking at the cloudy sky until it started raining. It was the most peace I've had in a month.

Jacob found me there at almost eleven last night. I had been there for six hours. He carried me to the car and drive me home in silence.