Memoir

The Plea Unheard

I look at the alarm clock. It reads 11:47 p.m. I sit beside my bed on the cold wooden floor, with tears rolling down my face in a steady stream. The chilly November night and intense mix of emotions begin to heavily affect my little 13 year old body, making my hands and legs shake uncontrollably. “What’s wrong with me?  I can’t breathe right,” my breath is escaping my lips in ragged bursts.

I glance over at Ashilee from where I sit; she sleeps quietly in her bed. I bite my lip hard, “No. I can’t wake her up. I can’t talk to her. She can’t see me like this! I need to stay the strong, big sister in her eyes. She can’t see me like this!” I smack my head forcefully, hug my legs close to my body, and start to rock back and forth. I clutch my head and dig my fingernails into my head, wishing the pain would disappear. “It will happen, I will die from too much emotion tonight,” I think soundly.

Suddenly, everything goes blank. Something in my brain just stops. Tears still streak down my cheeks. I use the wall as a buttress and pull myself up. Slowly, I trudge down the stairs to the kitchen. When I reach there, my brain pushes my legs forward to the living room where it lays. In this trance, I walk up to the mantle and pick it up. “What am I doing? Why can’t I stop?”  Tears continue to rampage down my face. All I can see is the big, bold, red letters of the ACE logo.

                I look up from the razor to find myself in my room. “How did I..?” I have no comprehension of how I made it back upstairs. I sit on my bed Indian style, wondering what would happen next.  I feel something pointy press into my hand. I look down, still on auto-pilot, slightly startled. “What the…?  Why is the razor…?” I stare a long time at the sharp blade, so long that my eyes go unfocused. My hand that holds the silver blade makes a jerking motion.

                Sweet physical pain explodes from my hand. I hear an odd noise, and then realize that it’s me whimpering. The tangible pain fills my body with such relief. I know how to fix this. I understand what my problem is. The lovely feeling of knowing envelopes my mind, causing my body to slump into relaxation against the bed frame. I close my eyes and imagine all the pain being forced out of the small incision. Nothing matters at this point, just the sweet relief of something concrete hurting instead of the overwhelming amount and force of emotions that I don’t know how to deal with.

                A switch flips off inside me and I am back into awareness. I look at the clock again and start with a shock. 11:55 p.m. Eight minutes passed by since the last time I checked the time. Amazed that only eight minutes have passed, I accidently grab my hand. I jump a little at a sharp pain. I remember what happened and examine my hand. A thin stream of blood is slowly starting to trickle down my thumb. I slide off my bed and tip toe down the stairs to the bathroom to retrieve a rag and band-aid.

Once the bleeding stops, I apply the band-aid and lay unmoving in my bed. My mind now hums pleasantly, replacing of the torrent of torturing thoughts that earlier consumed my being. I glance one last time at the clock, 12:01 a.m. Ashilee’s steady breathing eventually lulls me to sleep.

                When I wake up the next morning, my eyes hurt extremely badly. Unhappily, I sit up and I pull my hand up to my face to examine the tan band-aid. “What if someone sees it? What will I say? What if I start to cry?” I pull my legs off my bed and stand up. “What will they say? What if I have to go to therapy? Will my parents be mad and ground me?” A queasy feeling starts to develop in my stomach. “How stupid am I? Everyone will make fun of me! Now mom and dad will ground me for who knows how long!” I berate myself all morning as I get ready for school. I put on a jacket, and decide I won’t take it off for any reason the rest of the day.

                Nobody notices. When I get home from school, I see Papi’s truck in the drive way. “He’s home this week!” This revelation sends a surge of happiness through my body. I speed up, super excited to see him. Just as quickly, I come to a halt. “What if he sees…?” I pause for a few seconds. “I hope he sees it… He will make sure I never hurt myself again. He will not let me down. He will understand,” confidence spikes into me a little, returning me to my hurrying pace. “He won’t let me down,” echoes in my mind.

                I get home and hug him. I sit with him on the couch to watch TV. While we sit there he makes a clearing throat noise. He asks, “What happened, Autumn-bear?” Before I can say anything, the switch turns on and I’m back on auto-pilot. “A knife slipped and cut my hand when I did the dishes last night.” I think, “Why am I lying? Why don’t I tell him? Maybe I shouldn’t… Maybe that will hurt him more than I think. Maybe he will get mad at mom. He can’t get mad at mom; I already make her sad enough with all the fights I cause. Maybe this is for the best.” He frowns, “Well you need to stay more careful, baby girl!” He kisses my forehead. “How are you liking this movie? It was one of my favorites when I was growing up,” he smiles at me and looks back at the T.V. The switch turns back off and I turn my head back to the screen.

“Papi… Why aren’t you going to help me? Why don’t you know that I just lied to you…?” My thoughts are whispers. Abruptly, I’m screaming inside, “Please, please help me! I’m scared of what’s happening to me! I need you to know I’m lying! I need you, daddy! Please know something is wrong!” I stay calm, watching the movie.

                “Mom and I constantly fight, about everything! Over the stupidest little things, Papi! What did I do wrong? Why does she hate me? I just want to make her happy!”  I laugh at what the talking puppet says. “I can’t talk to Ashilee, either! With you gone to Wyoming for work, I have to be her foundation; I have to be her daddy when you’re gone! And to top it all off, Mom gets more and more mentally absent each day! Ash needs me, I can’t fail her!” He explodes into laughter and I join in with a few giggles.

 “Daddy, I don’t want to do this all by myself anymore! Please Papi…” My thoughts slow down. They lose all strength. I’m whispering again. “I need someone to listen… Help me?” He looks down at me with a big smile and kisses me again, “Love you baby bear!”