Chapter 15

Chapter 15

As much as I didn’t want to go back to Caleb’s house, that’s where I went. I figured if I could just sneak in without anyone seeing me, I could lock myself in the guest room until I figured out what to do about Noah and Caleb and my mother and all of the other problems roaming around inside my head. There were too many thoughts circling around, and I was heavily sleep deprived. I needed a bed more than anything else right now. Sleep would be my only form of escape tonight.

I drove back to the Kepner’s residence, and parked out front like I usually did. I turned off the car and watched the headlights flicker out to a dull darkness. I waited in my car for a moment, building up the courage to go inside. It was late, but it was impossible to know if everyone had gone to sleep. I don’t know what I would do if I had to face my mother again.

Finally, I knew I couldn’t sit out here any longer. I needed to go inside. I crept up the driveway and placed my key in the front door, meticulously. The door opened with a slight creak like it had done hundreds of times before. Without making a sound, I stepped onto the wooden floor, and closed the door behind me. The lights in the house were off except for the one directly above the sink. Slowly, I snuck into the kitchen, examining the living room adjacent. For some reason, I had expected my mother to be lying on the couch sleeping, but she wasn’t there. Where was she? I wondered, retrieving a glass from the cupboard and pouring myself something to drink. Was she still here? Was she in the guest room? Sleeping in my bed?

I guzzled down the entire glass of water in no more than ten seconds and quickly poured myself another. The water was cold against my lips, and it sent sharp pains to my teeth, but I ignored the sensation. I glanced around the kitchen, noticing an envelope sitting on the counter with a smaller one placed beside it. I walked over to it and held it in my hands. It was from my mother. I could tell from the handwriting on the outside of the envelope. Carefully, I ripped open the envelope and pulled the letter out from within. My hands were shaking as I unfolded the letter and held it out before me.

Charlie,

It was a mistake for me to come here. I hadn’t known it before, but I know it now. I’m not sure what I had expected to happen when I first saw you, but I never imagined it would’ve turned out like this. I am so sorry for hurting you like this.

Yeah, I bet she was sorry, I thought chuckling to myself.

You have grown into a beautiful young woman, and you have done it all on your own. Seeing you made me realize just how strong of a person you have become. I am so proud of the young woman you have become, and I wish I could’ve been there to see you grow.

Bullshit. I bet she had more fun in prison, I thought.  

You were right. I was nothing but a pathetic excuse for a mother. Things were complicated back then, but that is still no excuse for abandoning you like I had done. I know how much I had hurt you, and I wish I could take it all back. But I can’t anymore, and I have to live with the pain of that.

And she deserves it, I said inside my head.

The time I spent in prison gave me a chance to think about what’s really important in life, and that’s you, Charlie. You are my baby girl and you always will be. I have changed a lot over the years, and I got the help that I needed. I thought about you every single day behind those bars. Not a day went by that I didn’t whisper your name. I never wanted to forget what it sounded like coming out of my mouth. All of those days and all of those nights, you were there with me. You were there through that part of my life, and I will always be grateful for that. You are the reason I am still here today.

I know I have made many mistakes in the past, but I hope one day you will see past all of that. I just hope that someday you find the ability to forgive me for the pain I have caused you. Until then, my dear Charlotte. I love you from the bottom of my heart, and I’ll be waiting for the day I hear your sweet voice again.

Love,

Your dear Mother.

As much as I didn’t want to, I believed her. Every single word. But despite her apology, I still didn’t forgive her. I never have been and never will be very forgiving. I tend to hold grudges. Twice is already too many times to get hurt, and I wasn’t ready to risk getting hurt again.

Gently, I folded the note and placed it back inside the envelope. I picked up the smaller envelope and opened it. I flipped it over in my hand and a ring fell to the counter creating a soft ping. My eyes widened as I examined the ring on the counter. Could this really be the ring? The one my father had given my mother? I picked up the ring tenderly and held it between my thumb and my index finger. The diamond was breathtaking. A small one, but indeed a diamond. It shimmered against the light, creating a radiant image that I couldn’t take my eyes off of. Nervously, I place the ring on my own ring finger. It slid on easily as though it matched my hand perfectly. I spun the ring around my finger a few times, watching the diamond disappear and reappear with each revolution. So many people had touched this ring, I thought. My grandfather had given this to my grandmother. And she had given it to her only son, my father. I looked at the ring again, marveled by its stunning beauty. My father had touched this ring and here it rested on my very own finger. I had never before touched something that belonged to my father. And despite the anger I felt towards my mother, this ring had resided on her hand for the past eighteen years. Through this little band of metal, my family was together. Here, in this moment. All three of us. My mother, my father, and I were one again. Something that hadn’t happened in eighteen years, and wouldn’t happen again until I took my last breath. A tear escaped my eye and fell gracefully down my cheek.

                                 …

I awoke early in the morning, giving in to the sunshine flowing through the window at around seven o’clock. I mustered up the strength to get out of bed and shower. I wanted to be ready when Caleb came home. The water was warm against my back, creating a soothing sensation. One I hadn’t allowed myself to enjoy in months. I dressed quickly, and combed through my wet hair. The knots were tight, but I managed to comb through them without too much pain.

Downstairs, Mr. and Mrs. Kepner sat at the kitchen table. Two mugs sat beside each of them respectively, but neither said a word. Mr. Kepner was reading a column in the newspaper, and Mrs. Kepner was nearing the end of a rather long book.

“Good morning,” I said, walking into the kitchen. They both looked up from their reading at me concerned.

“Morning,” they said almost simultaneously. Mr. Kepner put down his newspaper, and Mrs. Kepner folded over the corner of the page she was on before setting her book down lightly.

“Do you know anything about your mother?” Mr. Kepner asked suddently. His voice sounded worried. I grabbed a white mug from inside the cupboard and poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot on the counter.

“What do you mean?” I asked unsure of what he was talking about. Had he seen the note? Did he know about the ring?

“She’s gone,” he stuttered. “Left sometime last night without a word.”

“I don’t know anything,” I replied. He looked at me suspiciously, but he didn’t say anything. I made sure to cover my hand, hiding the ring. I sat down at the table across from both of them, and sipped my coffee. It had been the first time I had drank coffee since the accident. “What time is Caleb coming home?” I asked anxiously. Despite his feelings towards me, I couldn’t wait to see him. I only hoped he could find the strength to forgive me. I don’t really deserve to ask for something I don’t hand out easily, but Caleb was a Christian kid. He’d forgive me eventually, I thought.

“We’re going to pick him up at noon,” he said, looking at me. I stared back wondering if he had told his wife about everything. Me and Noah. Last night. I glanced over at her. Mrs. Kepner had picked up her book again and resumed reading. She couldn’t have known, I thought taking another sip of my coffee. “Would you like to come with?”

I thought for a moment. I wasn’t sure how Caleb was going to react to seeing me, so I thought it best to stay here and wait for him to come back. “No thanks,” I responded politely. Mr. Kepner nodded, but didn’t look away from me. He must’ve been thinking about last night.

I finished my coffee, and grabbed a blueberry muffin on the counter. Mrs. Kepner must have made them last night. They were still soft. I brought it with me as I headed back up the stairs to wait for Caleb’s arrival.               

                                 …

The hours passed slowly as I laid in bed, waiting. What if he didn’t want to talk to me? What if he didn’t even want to see me? All morning, the thoughts in my head wouldn’t leave me alone. My thoughts became worries, which turned into scenarios, which turned into heartache. I was stressing myself out over things that hadn’t even happened yet. Finally, I had enough, and I searched for the notebook in the desk drawer. If I couldn’t stop the uncertainties in my head, at least I could write them down and calm myself. It really wasn’t worth the stress to worry about things that I had no control over, but I couldn’t stop my brain.

I wrote words, phrases, sentences. I wrote paragraphs and I wrote pages until my hand felt like it was going to fall off. Numb to the touch, I held it with my other hand, tracing the lines carved into my skin. I followed them up my wrist and began tracing the veins on my wrist. Up my arm and back down.

The pages in the journal were a mess. A scattered array of troubled thoughts and endless words leading to no solution. I stared at them for a long time, reading the words over and over again in my head. Before I could read another goddamn word, I tore the pages out of that book and ripped them to shreds. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. No amount of words could predict what would happen when Caleb came home. I thought about what I was going to say to him when I saw his face. His eyes. How could I have looked him in the eye and told him what I did? How could I have been so bold? I shook my head, trying to forget what I had done, but I knew that was impossible.

I looked at my wrist. The urge to slice up my skin again was coming back. I closed my eyes remembering the feeling. Not the one of the blade crossing my skin, but the one after. The relief. The escape from reality. I craved it. I needed it. I deserved it.

Without another thought, I ran into the bathroom. The room flooded my mind with the color of burgundy as if I wasn’t imagining red enough. I picked up the blade and looked at my wrist. My heart was beating as fast as it was the first time I cut my skin. The razor blade was calling my name, urging me to cut. Begging me to think of something other than these thoughts.

The first time I had cut was exhilarating. The temptation to feel that again was beyond me. I desired it more than anything at the moment. It was the only thing bolted to my brain. I stared at the razor knowing I shouldn’t do this, but my mind was fixated on harming myself again. To feel what I had felt the first time. I wanted to see my wrist covered in a pool of blood, I wanted to feel the texture of the blade as it glided across my skin, digging deep until it cut through. I never thought I would become so dependent on the blade, but in this moment it felt like an unstoppable addiction. Something I couldn’t stop thinking about until I relapsed. So, I did it.

In one firm motion, I coasted the blade across my wrist. Once, twice, three times. Four. But unlike last time, I watched the whole thing. I watched the blade puncture my wrist. I watched the bubbles of blood form on the edges of each slash. I watched them begin to trickle down the side of my arm and onto the counter before me. I glanced up into the mirror, but something wasn’t right. I was still thinking about Caleb. I was still wondering what I would say to him. I was still fearing that he would never forgive me for the inexcusable sin I had committed. It wasn’t enough, I thought picking the blade back up off the counter where I had laid it. I closed my eyes and hovered the blade over my existing wounds. I needed more, I needed to feel the safety I had felt the first time I cut.

First it was just one more. But that one more turned into two. Then three. Until I had lost count and my arm was covered in little red lines, each one deeper than the next. Finally, I gave up. I drifted down towards the floor, and dropped the blade from my hand. I heard the ping as it hit the floor followed by a thud as I fell myself. I examined my arm, filled from my wrist to the inside of my elbow in blood. I swallowed deeply, and closed my eyes. My arm went numb, and I felt like I was going to faint. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t. I shivered, feeling a cool sensation creeping up my thighs and down my back. My eyes were beginning to roll back in my head as I fought to keep them open. I tried to scream out for help, but no words were coming out. Just the sound of pure silence was to be heard as I fell completely down on the ground, my head hitting the floor. I looked up at the bathroom light watching it become dimmer and dimmer. Was this it? I thought. Was this how it was going to end? My body lay still on the floor as my eyes rolled back. Slowly, I drifted into unconsciousness.

                              

                                 …

I awoke to the sound of the monitor beeping beside me. I wasn’t sure where I was at first, but it didn’t take long to recognize this familiar hell. It was like déjà vu all over again. Less than a week ago I was sitting in this exact same bed, listening to those exact same beeps, feeling the exact same IV jammed into my vein. Only this time it was hooked up to my right arm. My left was covered in bandages. I had almost forgotten what I had done until I saw the white dressing casing my skin.

No one was there when I awoke. I didn’t know who I expected to be there, but it was disappointing seeing the chair beside me empty. I thought of Noah, sitting there when I awoke from the accident. Sleep deprived and anxious, tapping his foot against the floor. How I longed to see him in that chair now.

I sat up in bed looking over at the table beside me. There was a plastic cub filled with water and the TV remote. My purse was also on the edge of the table. Behind that, there was a button to call for a nurse in case I needed something. I pressed it, and waited.

Moments later a short brunette woman walked into the room. She wore glasses and her hair was up in a messy bun. Her makeup consisted of a small amount of mascara and a streak of eyeliner. I think she had attempted to hide the bags under her eyes, but I could still see them clear as day.

“Yes, Charlotte?” she asked courteously. Her voice was high pitched and eager, but it didn’t match her image. Fake, I thought to myself.

“What’s going on?” I asked confused.

“You’re in the hospital,” she responded blatantly. My eyes narrowed, and I glared at her. Obviously I was in the hospital. I knew I had cut the f**k out of my arm, and I knew where I was.

“Is there anyone here?” I asked, hoping she would be more helpful this time.

“Yes,” she replied. “As a matter of fact there is. Let me go get them for you.” I waited patiently already knowing who was going to walk through that door before they did.

Sure enough, in walked Mr. and Mrs. Kepner. I was hoping to see Caleb, but he wasn’t there. Mr. Kepner had his arm around his wife with a sad expression on his face. Mrs. Kepner’s wasn’t much different, although her’s was blotchy like she had been crying. I wasn’t sure why she would’ve crying for me. I couldn’t have been more than a hassle to her.

“Charlie,” Mr. Kepner said sounding rather concerned. He sat Mrs. Kepner down in the chair beside me, and stood at the side of my bed, grabbing my hand. He was staring into my eyes, but I saw Mrs. Kepner staring at the bandages. I quickly pulled the blanket up over my arm, hiding the truth.

“What’s going on?” I asked, not sure what I was looking for. I knew what I had done, but I needed to know what was going to happen now.

“You’re in the hospital,” said Mrs. Kepner. No s**t Sherlock, I thought glaring at her.

“I found you lying on the bathroom floor,” said Mr. Kepner. His voice trembled, but he steadied it quickly. “Your whole arm was bleeding, and we got you here right away.” Mrs. Kepner nodded as though verifying her husband.

A different nurse knocked on the already open door, and walked in. This one was taller than the last, but not by much. Freckles covered her face and she wore no makeup. At least she wasn’t trying to hide anything, I thought to myself.

“Hello, Charlotte,” she said cheerfully. Her voice seemed genuine. The first nurse I’ve seen that didn’t look like she absolutely hated her job. “My name is Olivia. I’m here to check your vitals.” I nodded, watching as she began to take my blood pressure. “How are you feeling?” she asked solemnly.

“I feel alright,” I said. Mr. and Mrs. Kepner’s eyes were glued on me. I wanted them to leave.

“Any pain?” she asked. I tried lifting my arm under the blanket. It was really sore, but other than that, nothing else seemed to hurt.

“Just a little pain in my arm,” I responded. Mrs. Kepner’s head tilted down as though she was disappointed. Well, it wasn’t the first time I disappointed someone, I thought.

“I’ll get you something to take care of that,” she said finishing up my blood pressure and writing the figures down on her clipboard before walking out of the room.

I looked over at the Kepners. They appeared rather uncomfortable. I could tell that they wanted to know what happened. Why I had slashed up my entire arm, but I really wasn’t in the mood to talk about it with them.

A doctor came in a few seconds later with another clipboard. I swear all of those people carry them around like it’s their prized possession. God forbid they put it down for a second and considered their patients as something more than just another number.

“Hello, Charlotte,” he said in a deep voice. He was tall and handsome, and I figured his only motivation in becoming a doctor was the money. I’m sure he could care less about me. “I’m Dr. Templeton.” He seemed arrogant, standing at the edge of my bed with his arms crossed in front of him. “I’m going to need to ask you a few questions regarding your mental health,” he said. He looked over at Caleb’s parents. “I’m going to have to ask you two to leave,” he said, his voice getting deeper with every word that spit out of his mouth.

The Kepners looked worried, but they complied. I was left alone to answer questions coming from a man who couldn’t care less about my answers or how I was feeling.

“Okay Charlotte,” he said sitting down in the chair beside me. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Yeah,” I muttered. This was the last thing I wanted to talk about. I knew he didn’t care, and I didn’t care to talk about it, so I didn’t see the point.

“How many times?”

“Just once.” He started scribbling something down on his clipboard. “Well, I cut like four times, but it was just one time,” I said.

“Where did you cut the last time?” he asked mundanely.

“Same spot,” I said, losing complete interest in this conversation as well.

“I see,” he said, adding something else to his notes. “Hmm,” he hummed flipping the page. “On a scale of one to ten, how suicidal are you?” I couldn’t help it, but I laughed. Were these really the kinds of questions they were asking me? Anybody serious about killing themselves would’ve lied and said a one. Anybody craving any sort of attention would’ve said a nine or a ten without a second thought. Regardless of what number I said, it wouldn’t change anything. He didn’t care one bit.

“I don’t know,” I stated. “Maybe like a three.” That was a lie, but he didn’t question me. Just scribbled down some more on his clipboard.

“Alright,” he said. “That should do it for now.” He stood up quickly and walked out of the room. What a prick, I thought.

I laid there for a moment, wondering what would happen next. Would I be admitted to the hospital? No way. My pain wasn’t sad enough. My cuts weren’t deep enough. I wasn’t suicidal enough. I’d be out of here before the day was over. Honestly, I could’ve left right now, but I knew better this time. The Kepners were just outside, waiting for me. I glanced over at the clock. It was just after noon, and Caleb had probably just been released. They weren’t waiting for me, I thought. They were waiting for him. I no longer had a reason to stay here, in this bed. Surrounded by white walls and nurses that would rather be at home. Bounded by doctors who would rather be out getting drunk with their buddies. And who could blame them, right? That’s all I wanted to do. Go home and drink a little wine. But to what home, I thought. I didn’t belong in any home anymore.

I unplugged the IV from my arm and sat up in bed. But before I could get out, I noticed someone standing in the doorway. I saw the shadow outlined on the floor, an image of black and nothing else. I looked up finding the one and only, Caleb Mason Kepner hobbling before me.

Reviews

[Lorry]

Charlie is certainly having more than her fair share to deal with in this story, things keep getting thrown at her and all she can do is her best to hold on and keep control of a rollercoaster time of life. The letter from her Mother shows her anger as she snorts her derision, but perhaps that is just who she is, a girl who has long grown used to having armour plating and hiding any weaknesses. No matter what she says, her mind is still in turmoil as the confusion keeps growing in her life.
I wrote that part before I read about the cutting, so it seems that I was right and that no matter the why, Charlotte needing the release to cut should be all the alarm others around her needed to hear. She is struggling despite doing her best to fi into a crazy grown up world, with few role models that understand her and her situation. To her, she just needed the release, but what is everyone else around her thinking?
Great chapter Sarah, can feel decisions being made and actions taken coming soon.

[Sarah]

Thank you for the review! Glad to hear from you again!

[Rebecca]

self-harm has nothing to do with suicide. nor attention. you got it wrong - no offense. its to seek a temporary release, a rush pf peace physical pain replacing mental anguish and to seek truth and light. most cutters do it so they wont be suicidal. its a coping mechanism. Im sure some cutters are suicidal, but not all cutters are suicidal. I was really hoping your character would say "Not at all,I just wanted to feel pain because my life felt out of control and everything in my life was wrong but I want to live forever"

[Christopher Miller]

Well, with the way she ran out of the church with such resolution, I expected her to do something other than go home and go to bed. I liked the note from her mother, it would have been nice to know what Charlotte's impression of it was before moving on to the ring. The ring has a great amount of potential, it was a nice addition.
The next day she decides to stay home and wait for Caleb's return (how did she know he was being released?), but it's unclear if that's the mysterious course of action that came to her in the church. If it is, I would enjoy knowing. If it isn't, and you want to reveal what that is later, at least allude to it. Have her steeling her nerves for 'what she knows she has to do'; that could even be part of what drives her to cut again.
I don't know how important to other readers this would be, but I'm wondering just where Caleb's leg got broken in three places. I deduce that it's his lower leg (tibia/fibula), if he's able to hobble around days later. If it were his femur, there's no way he would be getting released yet. As she takes stock of him during her previous visit with him, she could notice a splint on his elevated lower leg, with mention that they're going to cast it and release him the next day. I meant to mention, the tube that actually goes into someone's nose is an NG tube, for feeding. What she probably would have seen is a nasal cannula, that goes behind the ears and across the nose and is for oxygen. (I told you I worked in a hospital.)
The behavior of the nurses and doctor is spot-on. I saw the whole gamut in my time in the medical field. I saw everything from genuine compassion to nurses who would leave the room and say they wish the suicide attempt had succeeded.
Having left her bed before, they would be keeping a close eye on her this time and not let her leave. Patients can sign out against medical advice, but if they don't have that signature they can get into big legal trouble. If Charlotte isn't 18 yet, she'd need someone to sign for her. As this is now a mental health issue, I don't know that they'd even allow that.
If Charlotte goes home and drinks, she is going to get hammered FAST after all that blood loss.
I'm also wondering, is Caleb on crutches, or using a walker?

[Sarah]

Caleb's father told her in church that Caleb would be coming home the next day. And my oh my, I guess I have a lot of reviewing to do. You just blew my mind with all of that information, but thank you so much. Definitely a big help.

[Christopher Miller]

Oh, yes. Now that you mention it. I missed his father saying it because I was reading fast, so you can now take that as a compliment. You've got me wanting to know what happens.

[Mifa]

Keep going. Keep going...