I walked to the bedroom and fell on my bed. The rage was growing inside me as I gripped my comforter with both hands and screamed. I sat up and looked around my small bedroom. The pain inside me was far worse than I ever imagined it could be. My chest felt heavy, and my shattered heart pierced me from within. I clenched my jaw as my hands gripped the bed. I tore my comforter off the bed and threw it across the room. I ripped off my sheets and balled them up so that they masked the sounds of my screams. I walked to the kitchen for a glass of water to try to calm down, but I threw the glass at the wall and watched as it shattered into tiny pieces like my heart. I looked around. I took my desk and tipped it over as the drawer fell out, and my list was lying on the floor. I picked it up and looked at it. I held my bucket list in my hand. A list of all the things that I needed and wanted to do before I died. I crumpled the paper and threw it on the ground.
I went into the bathroom. I was so angry at my life and for what I did to Connor that I couldn’t see straight. I reached into the bathtub and grabbed my razor that was sitting on the edge. I took the blade out and held it to my wrist. I was going to end this pain now. I looked at the blade that perfectly matched up with my scar as the memories of that night came flooding back in my mind. I threw the blade down. What the hell was I doing? I fell to the ground, sobbing as I felt someone’s arms wrap around me.
“It’s okay, sweetie; I’m here,” Peyton whispered. She looked down and picked up the blade and then she looked at my wrists. “Jesus, Elle.”
We sat on the bathroom floor for what seemed like an eternity. She helped me up and walked me to the bedroom.
“I see you went on a destruction spree.”
I sat on the floor with my knees to my chest as she remade my bed. I felt like I just had a nervous breakdown; like everything that happened in my life just hit me. Peyton took me by the shoulders and helped me up. She went to my drawer and pulled a nightshirt out and helped me into it. I felt like a rag doll as my arms and legs felt limp. I climbed into my bed as Peyton covered me with the blankets. She scooted next to me and put her arms around me.
“Connor called and told me everything. Elle, I’m sorry, and I wish you would have told me about the cancer, but now is not the time to talk about this,” she said as she pushed my hair out of my face. “Get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere and, if you’re up to it, we’ll talk when you wake up.”
I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t. I just nodded my head and drifted off into a deep sleep.
***
I woke up and looked around the room. I sat on the edge of the bed as Peyton walked in. “Finally, you’re awake.”
I yawned and ran my hand through my hair. “How long have I been sleeping?”
She put her hands on her hips and twisted her face as if she didn’t want to tell me. “Two days.”
My eyes widened. “What? Two days? Peyton, why didn’t you wake me?”
She came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Sweetie, you obviously needed it. When I found you on that bathroom floor … God, Elle, I thought you...” She turned her head and looked at the wall.
I lightly took her hand. “I know, Peyton, and I’m sorry.”
She laid her head on my shoulder. “The only thing that matters is that you didn’t do it. You’re awake now, and you need to eat. Henry made the most delicious chicken noodle soup.”
I looked at her with a frown. “Who’s Henry?”
She tilted her head and smiled. “Dr. Hottie. He’s been here helping me out while you’ve been sleeping.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Peyton, you told him everything?”
“Yeah, Elle, I did. We’re seeing each other now, and I needed someone to talk to. Besides, he’s been the biggest help.”
I got up and felt light-headed. Peyton grabbed my arm. “You need to eat, Elle; it’s been two days.”
She helped me to the kitchen. All I could smell was the aroma of the chicken noodle soup, and it was amazing. I didn’t feel like eating, but my body told me that I had to. I sat at the table as Peyton set the bowl of soup in front of me. “Eat up.”
“Where’s my phone?” I asked her.
“It’s over there on your desk. I charged it for you.”
I walked over, pulled it out of the charger, and turned it on. I patiently waited for it to turn on so that I could see if Connor text-messaged me or called. There was nothing, not even a voicemail. I should have started crying, but there were no tears left in my eyes.
Peyton sat across from me as I slowly ate the soup Henry had made. “Ellery, why didn’t you tell me about your cancer coming back? I thought we were best friends?”
I couldn’t look at her because I was ashamed. I knew my secret would hurt the people close to me. I’d already lived it, and I couldn’t go through it again.
“Peyton, I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you. I wanted to tell you, please believe me, but I couldn’t bear to stand in front of you and see the look on your face after I told you. It was bad enough that I had to tell Kyle.”
She reached over and touched my hand that was resting on the table. “Elle, I would have stood by you and supported you. I seriously can’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me. I get that you were scared, and you didn’t want me to worry, but what were you going to do? Just go off and die alone?”
I got up from the table and sat on the couch, hugging my knees to my chest and burying my head in my hands. “My life has been made up of hurting people, Peyton. I need you to understand that. After my mother died, I was left as a reminder of her to my dad, and that hurt him so much, he had to drink himself to death just to cope. Then there was my suicide attempt and cancer.” I could feel the tears starting to spring back to life.
Peyton sat down beside me and put her arm around me, pulling me closer. “I do understand where you’re coming from, Elle, but do you want to know what I think? I think you made the wrong decision not to tell anyone, especially Connor, and now you have to deal with the consequences. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to kick you while you’re down, but by you not telling anyone has caused more pain than if you would have been honest from the beginning.”
I leaned my head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Peyton. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“I can and have forgiven you, Elle, but you have to promise me that you’ll call the doctor and start treatments right away because…” Peyton started to cry. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
I turned towards her and hugged her tight. “I’m sorry. I promise to get help.”
Peyton got up to clean up the kitchen as I went to take a shower. I got dressed and put on my coat.
“Excuse me, where do you think you’re going?” she asked.
“I have a couple of things that I need to do.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea that you go anywhere.”
I softly laughed. “Are you my mother now?”
“No, I’m not, but I worry about you, and I want you to be safe. Oh God, I sound like a mother.” She smiled.
“I won’t be gone long. I promise.”
I walked out the door and headed down the crowded streets. You would think that the coldness of the air would chill my bones, but every part of my existence was already numb.
I walked over to the next block to a church that I’d admired since I moved to New York. I needed to seek solace in the house of God. I had unanswered questions and unfinished business. I reached the steps of the church and pulled open the heavy door that led inside. I’d wanted to visit this church since I moved here, but Kyle wasn’t a church fan and wouldn’t go with me.
I looked around at the beauty of the stained glass that overtook the windows and many rows of wooden pews that stood before me. I knelt at one of the pews and said hello to God before I sat down. I stared at the altar as memories of my childhood flashed before my eyes. Memories of me sitting in a pew just like this one in the front row, staring at the large wooden casket that held my mother. My father was holding his face, crying, as strangers all around gave me their sympathetic looks.
A single tear fell from my eye. As I wiped it away, a man in a white robe sat down next to me.
“Good day, my child. Is there anything that I can do for you?”
“Hello, Father, I’m just here because I have some unfinished business with God.”
He gave me a surprised look and said, “Unfinished business, huh?”
I looked down and laced my fingers together. “Yeah, I need some questions answered about my life, and I was hoping to get them here.”
The priest sat and listened to me as I told him about my life. I confided in him about my mother’s and father’s deaths, my past and recurrent battle with cancer, and how I hid the truth from Connor. I didn’t tell him about my suicide attempt, but it wasn’t too hard to hide when I lifted my hand and pushed my hair behind my ear. The priest looked at me and lightly touched my wrist.
“You’re a survivor, and God gave you a second chance at life.”
I shook my head. “I know that, Father, but what good is that second chance if I’m not going to live a long, full life?”
He patted my hand softly. “You don’t know whether or not you’ll live a long, full life, and it doesn’t matter what you went through before. What matters is that you survived it. God won’t give you more than you can handle. He knows you’re strong enough to handle this again.”
I looked down and bit my lip. My emotions were all over the place. “The chemo was awful,” I whispered.
“Chemo isn’t supposed to be fun, but you survived, and it made you stronger. What you need to understand is that your refusal to get treatment is just another form of suicide.”
I looked up at his face, my eyes stinging with tears. He was right. I never thought that what I was doing was a form of suicide. He took my hand and patted it once more as he smiled and walked away.