Becoming A Butterfly (The Butterfly Chronicles) (20 page)

“
Who would you want to be?” I asked, pulling my feet under me and sitting Indian-style allowing her to continue pushing us on the swing.

“
Not me, I know that much.”

“
There’s nothing wrong with you. You are amazing just how you are, smart and pretty too.” I tweaked her nose, but she frowned at me.

“
If you could be anyone in the world who would you be?” she asked thoughtfully.

“
That’s a loaded question; un-cock that sucker.” I un-cocked my thumb from my finger gun. “If I could be anyone? I think I would want to be myself. It’s too hard to be someone else. I’m me for a reason. Whether I’m a good person or a bad person, this is who I’m meant to be.” I tilted my head back, dropped the last bit of waffle cone in my mouth, and looked at the clear blue sky. I wanted to believe that. But I didn’t have faith in myself, not yet. It’s hard to convince someone else when you don’t believe it yourself.

Sunday met me with low expectations. My phone hadn’t rung, dinged, or buzzed all weekend. Status Quo was surprisingly quiet. After the initial assault, the bikini picture seemed to blow over like everything else always did. When I came downstairs, Lana was cuddled on the couch with my mom watching
Annie
. We hadn’t seen that since we were in the single digits. I guessed that she needed comforting, and I was glad that she was getting it from Mom. I, on the other hand, might have been a glutton for punishment, but I returned outside to work on my tan. I was going to be seeing Henry as Farrah in less than a week, and I wanted to look amazing. I had a shopping trip to Metropolis Mall in Plainfield planned for Wednesday, and I was going to put my best foot forward, with or without the support of my friends. I kept telling myself that I didn’t need them and I would be stronger without them. I hoped I was right.

Chapter 25

After a disastrous Monday, I just wanted to disappear, or go back in time, something to change my impending approaching fate. Henry was still avoiding me and was still best friends with Byron and Bea. Tasha and Jade
were still the new Tasha and Jade—ignoring me grandly. In the classes Chase didn’t skip, he sat in the corner and ignored me. I just wanted my friends back, all of them.

So imagine my surprise when I pulled into the driveway of my house, and Chase sat in his car at the curb. After avoiding me all day, he was now at my house? I didn’t understand him. I parked and got out, leaving my bag in the front seat. I marched over to his car and leaned into his open window.

“
So now you’re stalking me?” I asked, trying to stare at him hard.

“
Get in; we need to talk.” He looked at me sideways. I slid into his car and crossed my arms. He began, “I should have never kissed you. I’m not really sure what I was thinking, but I don’t want to ruin what we have going on here.” He stared at his steering wheel.

“
It was a good kiss,” I admitted, giving him a reluctant smile. “I just don’t want things to get weird between us. Right now, you’re the only friend I have.” I leaned my head back against the head rest, and he reached over and squeezed my hand. I squeezed his back.

“
I just want you to know; your secret is still safe. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” He looked at me, and I believed him.

“
Do you want to come in?” I asked.

“
Sure, video games?”

“
Sounds like a plan.” We both got out of the car, and he followed me into the house and up the stairs. I didn’t see Lana downstairs, I didn’t hear her stereo blasting or
That 70’s show
playing. I wondered where she was.

“
I’m going to check on Lana. Go ahead and set it up, OK?” He nodded and went to my room. I went to hers. Surprisingly, it was meticulously clean. There was a folded paper on the bed. It had my name on it. I thought that was sweet, so I picked it up and opened it.

Dear Lacey,

I’m all alone. There is no one I can talk to. Thanks for trying to be there for me, but you just don’t understand. Everyone at school hates me. I can’t take the things they say, the way they crowd around me and yell at me. You hate me. I know you say you don’t, but I only get in the way. I’m a loser. I don’t want to be a loser anymore. For what it’s worth, I love you. I have always looked up to you, and if I weren’t such a waste, I’d want to be like you. Living and breathing is too painful though. It’s too much. I can’t cry anymore; I can’t take it anymore. I want to be numb.

Thank you for Saturday. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time. Take care of Mommy and Daddy. They are going to have a lot of questions probably. It’s OK to tell them what’s been going on. It won’t matter now. I’m OK, though, with my decision, my choice. I actually finally feel happy and free. Be happy for me too.

Love,

Lana

I heard myself scream Chase and Lana’s names, but everything stilled. I moved in slow motion as I dropped the letter and ran to the bathroom door in a slow heartbeat. It was locked; Chase was instantly behind me asking if I was OK, but I was just screaming Lana’s name and shaking the door as hard as I could. I realized that I needed the key and I fumbled for it above the door frame. It was gone! I ran to my door, and luckily there was one there, so I grabbed it. I raced back down the hall to her bathroom. My hands were shaking, and tears streamed down my face. I hadn’t told Chase anything, but he obviously sensed my urgency and gently took the key from me and popped the door. Then. There, lying on the floor in a pool of blood, was my little sister. Her shirt and jeans were covered in crimson. Her skin was greying, and her breath was shallow. I stood there and stared at her, my voice gone, my eyes blurry and hazy, as Chase grabbed towels from the rack in the corner and wrapped them around her. He took off his shirt and ripped it, making tourniquets and began tying them around her forearms just below her elbows. He continued to tear strips from the never-ending fabric of his T-shirt, wrapping them firmly around each of her arms and applying pressure. He was talking to me, but all I saw was my sister giving up, lying on the floor welcoming death instead of talking to my parents or me, or getting help or. . . I should never have kept her secret. This was another lie I had hidden; this was my fault. She told me not to feel guilty, but that was the only thing I felt. Everything else was numb. Chase was screaming at me, but all I heard, all I saw, was her leaning her head back on Saturday looking at the wooded hills, making up a new life for us where we could be anyone we wanted to be.

“
No, no, no, no,” I stuttered as I knelt beside her and turned her face to me. Her head was limp, her eyes glassy, distant and unfocused. “Lana we can go there; I promise we’ll go there. I’ll be whoever you want me to be. Please, Lana, please,” I whispered in her ear.

“
LACEY!” Chase shouted firmly. I looked over at him, barely recognizing him. “Get on the phone. Call 911 and go outside and wait for them. She’s not dead; we can save her.” I did as he instructed. Smearing my bloody fingers on my shirt, I stumbled down the stairs. It felt like it took forever for the ambulance to get there. I sat on the front steps rocking myself back and forth, grunting acknowledgements to the 911 operator every so often. Finally, I heard the sirens. I told the operator and disconnected the call. As soon as I did, I called my mom. I saw the fire truck, police car, and ambulance turn the corner as my mom answered her cell.

“
Mommy—” I began in a cracking, shaky voice.

“
What’s going on Lacey?” she shrieked. I hadn’t called her that in years. I tried to tell her, but only a few words actually made it out. “Lana, wrists, blood everywhere, Chase saving her, ambulance here, hospital” and I heard the phone drop. She quickly retrieved it and yelled instructions into the phone, but I didn’t hear her. All this happened in the time it took the vehicles to turn the corner and pull up in front of my house. It was a matter of minutes, but it felt like hours since I’d left Chase upstairs holding my sister’s arms tightly at the arteries where she had drawn lines from her wrists to the middle of her forearm with a razor. I stood mechanically and walked back upstairs, assuming the paramedics and fire men would follow me. They did; they followed me up the stairs and down the hall to the bathroom. Chase’s face was wet with sweat, and he was covered in my sister’s blood. The paramedics quickly moved in and began working on her as Chase moved out of the way. He came to me. Both of us were already bloody, so I didn’t mind that he hugged me tightly against him. In a flash, they had her on the stretcher and were telling us that she was stable enough to be transported to the hospital. My mom and dad came stomping up the stairs as the paramedics rolled Lana toward the stairs. The policeman asking me questions held her note to me in his hand. I stared at that note. My mom stood there expecting answers much like the policeman. She began asking her own questions, but paused and looked at Chase and me standing there with a look I had never seen in her eyes. Then she turned and followed the paramedics out the front. My mom rode in the ambulance, and my dad followed it to the hospital. After I washed my hands and arms, I changed my shirt and found a T-shirt of my dad’s for Chase. He decided he would drive me; I was obviously in no condition to drive. As we walked out, Henry rode his skateboard up the sidewalk.

“
What happened?” he asked horrified. Chase’s jeans were covered in blood.

“
Lana had an accident,” Chase answered as he ushered me into his car. I appreciated his discretion. He didn’t say a word as we drove. He let me sit in silence—as silent as I could be with the world crashing in around me. Sometimes I felt as though I couldn’t breathe and just heaved several short jagged breaths. My face was a soggy mess. I just knew my contacts would pop out; I was surprised they were still intact.

When we arrived at the hospital, my mom and dad were nowhere to be seen. Chase led me to an area of seats where I fell into one. He held my hand as we waited. Finally, my mom and dad came out with a doctor, a tall Hispanic man with jet black hair. He looked like he had a deep tan, but I imagined that was his natural color. He appeared to be a little older than my parents. He was soft spoken, and I found that encouraging. He said she was stable. They’d given her blood transfusions and stitched her up, but she was heavily sedated and sleeping. Then they asked me what had happened. I wasn’t sure where to start, so I chose the beginning when I found out she was cutting. My dad sat with his arms crossed, and my mom lost it a few times in tears, which of course made me lose it. Once I was done, the questions came: Why didn’t I tell them? What did I think would happen? Did I think it would end well? What if I hadn’t checked on her? How could they not have seen this? Why didn’t she come to them? What would happen next? The doctor answered that question. She would be put on a 72-hour suicide watch, and none of us would be allowed to see her. Then if my parents chose, his recommendation would be to put her in a stress center where she could have therapy and round-the-clock supervision for a minimum of six weeks.

“
That will be her entire summer,” I said, covering my mouth. Chase put his arm around me, and I leaned into him. My mom looked at me sternly, warning me that I had said enough.
Did she blame me for this?

“
We want her to be healthy,” my dad answered quietly. The doctor nodded. That was it; we had to wait now; we couldn’t do any more.

Chapter 26

Chase took me home. We sat in his car by the curb for a while. With the windows down, I just listened to the crickets singing their songs. I didn’t know if he wanted to go home, but I wasn’t ready to go inside. I could see shadows cast against the windows, and I knew my parents were moving around the house, pacing from worry over my sister, I imagined. Their disappointment and blame were evident on their faces as they lectured me at the hospital; they were right in their blame. I should have told someone; I shouldn’t have kept it a secret. I shouldn’t have pushed her off all those weeks. This was my regret and my fault. I would have to live with it.

“
How did you know what to do?” I asked, looking out the window at my home, which would never be the same for me. Chase took a deep breath.

“
When I was in rehab, there was this guy; we called him Spanky because, instead of chewing crazy packs of gum or smoking cigarettes, he became addicted to something else.” He looked at me pointedly, and I returned his gaze with wide eyes. He continued, “Anyway, after I was there for a few weeks, he had managed a way to smuggle in some PCP. I heard that was his drug of choice, but I guess he took too much and began hallucinating. I found him in the showers. He had turned on the water and slit his wrists. Not just once like Lana, like three or four times. Sometimes I still wake up seeing him lying there, naked, covered in blood. I yelled for help but stood there helpless. The orderlies and nurses did to him what I did to Lana. That’s how I knew what to do.”

“
You saved her life.” I watched him.

“
I didn’t save his,” he said, putting his head down. “That was when I decided I’d never do drugs or drink again. I couldn’t save him, but he saved me.” Then he looked at me, his face an open book, full of pain, regret, loneliness, and forsakenness. “I’ve never told anyone that.” I wanted to convey to him that he could trust me. “Lacey—” he began, but I heard the storm door squeak open. My mom stood in the doorway looking at us, piercing us with her gaze.