Chapter 4

The word confusion got a completely new meaning for me. The evening before Heather had gone home after some serious kissing. I had not dared to push anything after what she had told me. Being completely honest, I had been thinking about not letting Heather go home. Just imagining what she had to endure ... god, I do not want to go there. Nobody should ever experience something like that.

I was lying in my bed, having awoken long before my alarm was supposed to end my slumber. Pictures of Heather with her dad were replaced by memories of our kisses, only to be pushed aside by thoughts about Sarah possibly wanting more than just a sibling relationship. Tears were leaking from my eyes, without me knowing why at any particular point in time.

Confusion? Total. Questions? Too many. Answers? None.

What was the meaning of it all? Was Heather correct in her assessment of Sarah’s feelings? What would I do in case she was? If she was not? How could I possibly find out? What about Heather? Did those kisses mean anything to her? What did they mean to me?

My head was pounding, my tears were flowing. I curled up in a ball and just rocked back and forth, trying to block out the world, to escape this impossible reality, even wishing my last attempt had been successful just so that I did not have to think about all this shit. I was a mess.

In the back of the drawer of my desk was a cutter. If my parents knew it was there, I would have hell to pay. But they did not know, nobody did but me. I got up from the bed, walking over to my desk like in a trance. Something rang. Bells? I did not care. I was totally focused on the drawer, pulling it open slowly, catching the first glimpse of shiny metal. My vision narrowed, everything else fading away, but the blade stayed sharp. I saw my hand reaching out for it, feeling it, taking it, everything happening in slow motion, my mind strangely detached.

It had been too much. Too many conflicting emotions. I could not handle it. The blade in my hand seemingly keeping me sane in a sea of confusion. It had a purpose. There was no conflict. It was made to cut things, nothing else. I envied the blade for the simplicity, the single purpose of its existence. When I extended the blade it began to blur. With every click, my vision seemed to fade. My hands were shaking. I was getting unsteady on my legs. Kneeling down on the floor, I rested my head against my desk.

I somehow lost my cutter. The hand that had held it was hurting. Breathing was getting difficult like my chest was in a vise. Slowly I lost my balance, tilting to the side. I was lying down. No! I was being pushed down. There were hands. It was raining. I could feel the drops on my face. Why was it raining in my room?

Looking up, I saw eyes. Unbelievably sad eyes. They bore unimaginable pain, pain that was flowing out of them and trickling on my face. Those eyes anchored me. They drew me in, making me want to take away the pain. I would do anything. I could not do anything.

All there was left to do, was curl up more and more tightly to block out the world, to block out the pain. It was all just too much. And there were so many tears left in my eyes. Everything seemed to be overflowing, overwhelming me in the process. But the strongest feeling of them all was not even my own. It was enveloping me, holding me tight, not letting me slip away into total despair. While I was walking on the brink, one false step shy of slipping away, a lifeline was being wrapped around me, fighting back the darkness, nurturing the withering light inside of me.

Have you ever experienced a moment in which your mind seemed to jump from one thought to the next, each so short that, as soon as you tried to focus on it, it already had been replaced by another? I imagine that insanity might feel like that, a jumbled mess of thoughts. Maybe I was just crazy, loving my sister, trying to kill myself over it.

Sarah was talking to me. There was no sound, but she had been talking the entire time. At least her mouth had been moving. That means she had to be talking, right? If the lips are moving, but you don’t hear a sound, is the other person actually speaking? Think about that before continuing with the next paragraph.