27. Lydia #3
“You told him to kill himself,” she continues. “What kind of sick freak does something like that to someone they love? You never deserved him. Maybe you’re the one who should have killed yourself. Nobody would be missing you right now like we’re all missing him.”
I know her words shouldn’t affect me, but they do. They hit me straight in the gut. A low blow confirming all my insecurities.
I start to dig my nails into the palm of my hands, trying to regain some control, trying not to let the anxiety take over.
“You think you can just come back here now and not pay for what you did?”
“I didn’t—”
As soon as the words start to leave my lips, everything happens fast. I don’t even have time to react.
A hand slams into my cheek, and another one of the girls grabs my hair, yanking hard.
I scream as they push me down, kicks landing against my ribs.
My cries drown in their insults and their fists.
Darkness clouds my vision as I try to shield my body.
I don’t even have the chance to speak, to plead, to make them stop.
They wouldn’t care what I said anyway. They came here looking for blood, and that’s what they’re getting.
I feel the burning of my skin from their nails, the pain in my stomach from being kicked, and the ache in my head from hitting the ground. I keep trying to fight back, but there are three of them and only one of me. All I can do is pray they don’t kill me right here in this bathroom.
I turn my head, spitting out blood, when I hear more commotion behind them. I start to see teachers grabbing at each one of the girls, pulling them off, and yelling at everyone around to back up.
Everything starts to fade as soon as the beating stops. I can’t keep my eyes open long enough to know if I’m even fully safe. I can’t fight off the wave of exhaustion that quickly pulls me under without warning.
When I wake up, I look around to see that I’m lying in a hospital bed and my skull is pounding.
I turn my head and see Sarah standing outside the door through the window.
Her arms are crossed, and she’s talking to a doctor, along with another lady in a suit I don’t recognize, and then Mark is off to the side.
It takes me a second to come back to the reality of what happened.
I’ve been in fights before…but I’ve never been jumped like that.
Never felt that kind of helpless pain and panic before.
All for something I didn’t even do, all from a story a boy I thought I loved left the world with.
How ironic was the brief moment of relief I felt guilty for feeling after he died, just for him to still find ways to keep hurting me?
I thought I had escaped any more physical pain he could cause…but, guess I was wrong.
Sarah looks over her shoulder into the room and catches my eye. I can’t make out the look in her expression. Tired? Overwhelmed? Sad? Annoyed?
A moment later, she and Mark walk into the room alone. Mark grabs my bag while Sarah walks over to me. She bends down and places a hand on my shoulder as I’m still lying down.
“How are you feeling?” she asks in a low voice.
I shrug. “Not good…”
She nods sympathetically. “Well, they checked you out. You have a mild concussion, but nothing too concerning. I know you’re in pain, though, so we’re gonna get you back home soon.”
After getting discharged, Mark holds me up, and we walk out of the emergency room entrance where their car is parked. Sarah tells me Mark is driving me back to the house while she drives my car home. I let Mark guide me inside his car and then lie across the back as he gets into the driver’s seat.
He drives in silence at first before finally speaking. “Those girls told them that you were the one who started the fight. That you went crazy after they asked you a question about Elijah, and you tried to attack them, so they fought back.”
I try to sit up but wince at the pain in my ribs. “No…that’s not true—”
“I know, Lydia,” he says calmly. “That’s why you aren’t being suspended. I told them we would sue the shit out of them if they tried.”
I’ve never heard Mark curse before. I would probably laugh if this situation weren’t so fucked up.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
At home, Sarah offers me food, water, help, anything she can, but I wave her away, retreating into my room. I can’t take being around anyone right now.
Alone, I collapse onto my bed, my body throbbing, mind spinning. I was stupid to think things would get better, naive to think I’d be allowed to move on.
Maybe I am the villain. Maybe I always will be to everyone, no matter what.
I glance down at my phone, the screen lighting up with a message from Simone.
Simone: I’m so proud of you for facing today. I promise you’ve got this
What a fucking lie. I don’t have a damn thing…
I don’t want any of it if I did.
What’s the point of going through life always feeling so broken, always hating who you see in the mirror, always wondering what’s so wrong with you that makes everyone else hate what they see when they look at you? I’m so tired of always having to just push through and fake it another day.
I’m so…fucking…tired.