23. Lydia
Lydia
A LITTLE OVER A YEAR LATER
Age-Seventeen
Standing in my bathroom, gripping the sink, staring at a girl I don’t even know, all I can do is cry.
My face is swollen, the scratches on my neck still burn when I touch them, and my legs feel like they can’t even hold me up anymore.
How am I still here? How have I let myself go back so many times?
How did I get convinced that things would always change?
Why did I let myself feel bad for the same person who loves to hurt me?
Chasing the good days like a high that would make up for all the times the knife has been shoved into my heart over and over again.
Eli went back to college yesterday after winter break, and I haven’t been to school in three days. How can I when I look like this?
I force myself to turn on the shower. I haven’t been out of bed in so long, I’m starting to get sick of my own scent.
Sarah doesn’t even bother checking on me anymore when I don’t leave my room for days. She’s given up on me, too, just like everyone else has.
I grab the bottle of vodka from underneath the sink and step into the scalding hot water.
Showers feel like the one place where all of my thoughts run wild now, and it’s why I normally avoid them when I’m at my lowest. The water makes the pain more intense, but I welcome it.
Pain helps quiet my brain, helps it to focus on the moment and what hurts instead of the anxiety that’s always sitting at the base of my skull and in my bones.
I unscrew the top of the bottle and sink to the floor of the shower, trying to numb everything for a little while longer. I don’t want to feel right now. I don’t want to think. I want to slowly disappear into the darkness for good.
I hate my life. I hate Eli. I hate Simone—I don’t hate her—but she hates me, so I have to force myself to hate her too.
I hate this house. I hate every single person at school.
I hate Katie so fucking much. But…I hate Harper more than anyone right now.
Not because she did anything really…but because she delivered the final blow.
I sit in the shower until the bottle is finally drained and the water turns cold, forcing me to get out.
How easy would it be right now to shatter this bottle and use it to slit my wrists right here in this tub? Would it be too painful of a way to go? Can you overdose on antidepressants? I mean, I have a lot…especially since I keep getting them filled and not taking any of them.
I used to be so against drugs and getting drunk.
I used to only drink to get buzzed to have a little fun, never to get drunk, never to let go of control.
I’ve never touched any drug, though. Still haven’t.
I told myself I would never do that to the people I love.
I would never do what my sister did. But guess what?
There’s literally nobody left who cares about me…
so what weight does that sentiment hold anymore? It would affect no one if I were gone.
No…
I’m too close to graduation, too close to getting out of this city, too close to starting fresh. I have to hold onto the desperate need that Texas will be better. That it will be what saves me.
When I saw the acceptance letter, it didn’t feel real.
I honestly didn’t even let myself get happy because I knew I wasn’t going to go.
No way would I get the chance to leave Charlotte.
I knew Eli would have never let that happen.
Yet I still followed through with my enrollment, not telling anyone.
I just figured I wouldn’t show up, and it wouldn’t matter anyway when I was dropped.
But I must have known I’d still somehow end up there.
That’s the plan now, as of…about an hour ago.
I pull myself out of the shower after turning the water off and then step out, grabbing the towel hanging up.
I don’t get far before I’m back on the ground, clutching the towel to my body.
My mind is foggy from the alcohol, but the whirlwind of emotions in my head is just as loud as before.
Nothing is helping. The constant back and forth from completely shattered to a fuck it mindset is giving me whiplash.
I can’t decide what to feel, or what I want to feel.
I lean forward and grab my phone from the vanity, turning it on and looking at the default picture on my lock screen.
The one I never changed after getting a new phone.
My old phone always had a picture collage of Simone and me as my lock screen, but after having to get a new phone and forcing myself to let go of my favorite person in this world, it just felt wrong to put anything else on it.
I put in my passcode, and the last text message I had open stares at me.
Taunting me, laughing at me, mocking me.
Harper: Hey, Lydia. It’s Harper. I don’t know if you still have my number saved or not, but…
I just needed to tell you something. I’m also so sorry for everything that has happened between us, and I really wish one day you’d forgive me for being such a shitty friend back then.
I just feel wrong keeping this information from you, and you deserve to know that Katie recently told me she had started talking to Eli again, that she ran into him on a college tour at UNCC, and he asked for her new number.
I started to ask her what actually went down between them, since she never talked about it, and she told me everything.
She told me that it was just flirting at first and nothing had happened…
but after prom…after y’all broke up…he ended up sleeping with her.
I don’t know the timeline really, or when y’all got back together, but she said it was a week after prom that they had sex, that he told her he was sad and needed her to make him feel better, but then went dead silent on her after y’all got back together.
We ended up getting into a huge fight over it all and haven’t talked since, but she seemed pretty proud that she finally got his attention back now, and told me that he invited her to come see him at school and stay the night after his game coming up, since you would be busy.
I told her it was gross that she still even wanted to be with a guy like that, and that she looked desperate to take any scraps he gave her.
I don’t condone what she’s done, and you don’t deserve that, Lydia. I’m sorry
The wave of anger hits me again, like it does every time I re-read those words.
I knew the last fight we had was so out of the blue.
The way he spoke to me so cruelly didn’t shock me, but I knew it seemed forced.
Like he was desperate to find something to make sure I was mad at him for…
I know now he just wanted me to avoid him over the weekend so I wouldn’t come spend the night in his dorm—interrupting his grand fucking plans with Katie.
Maybe he thought beating me so badly would keep me in the house long enough not to question anything or find out…
but I guess he finally underestimated me.
Underestimated his fate. I’m not stopping until I see blood this time.
I’m done…finally done. This is my final cut from him, from this fucked up relationship he’s made me think I needed.
* * *
I instinctively keep pulling my hood down to avoid anyone seeing the bruises on my face still, even though it’s late at night and I have at least four layers of concealer on.
The air around the UNCC campus is still a little chaotic, like it always is after a Friday-night game.
Even though the game ended a while ago, I can still smell the kettle corn, spilled beer, and lingering bodies.
Students spill out from the dorms in groups or pairs.
Nobody even pays attention to the girl in the oversized hoodie trudging past them.
Eli’s building is straight ahead, Laurel Hall, third floor, last dorm on the left.
I’ve made this walk dozens of times—after games, after late practices, or after he’d begged me to come because he couldn’t fall asleep without me beside him.
Each visit, I told myself, was the last. Each time, I believed it a little less.
Tonight is actually the last time, though.
As I get closer to his door, I keep trying to convince myself that none of this is really happening.
No way my life could actually be this cruel and screwed up.
I press my hand to the bruises hidden beneath my hood.
I try to reason with myself the whole way there, maybe Katie never showed.
Maybe Eli was alone, half asleep after his game, or just partying. Maybe—stop thinking so much.
A burst of laughter flows down the hallway as I push inside Laurel Hall.
Different music plays from every dorm. It smells like alcohol and microwave food and too many people.
Eli’s door is at the end, and the closer I walk to it, the tighter every muscle in my stomach clenches.
My hands start to shake, so I stuff them in my sweatshirt pocket.
One deep breath. Another.
I touch the doorknob…and then stop. A low sound filters through the door—a tiny moan, a girl’s voice, muffled and bubbling with a giggle.
I recognize it even though I wish I didn’t.
My heart sinks lower than I’ve ever felt before.
Even though I know what to expect at this point, nothing will prepare me—
I twist the knob and step in. Pushing past the hesitation.
Instantly, I see Katie straddling Eli on his twin XL, her long acrylic nails braced on either side of his head.
His shirt’s off, and there’s a rumpled blanket tangled around them.
His hands are on her waist, guiding her up and down on him.
All I could hear were moans and gasps. All I could see was red.
I let the door bang against the wall, making myself known.
It feels like time completely stops in this heartbreaking moment.