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She smiles, reaches behind her and pulls out a gun. I slink further back into the couch, gripping the blanket to my chest like it’s a shield.
“Isn’t this what you want?” She asks.
I stare at her like she’s crazy. “No.”
She uses the gun to point to the folder beside her. “That’s not what this file tells me. You see, Beast is part of my family. And right now, he is willing to take the fall for not killing you. That means he’s looking at five to ten years in solitary lockdown.”
My heart immediately goes out to him. I didn’t want him to suffer for not killing me.
“I didn’t….”
“You didn’t what?” She asks. “Think there was consequences?” I can only look away from her. She’s right, I should have known. That organization doesn’t strike me as one that will easily let something go.
“The problem is,” she continues on. “I don’t see why Beast would risk his life for you. It can’t be your looks. Your skin is ashy and dry. You also look pale which shouldn’t be a thing for a black girl. No matter how light you are. You’re entirely too skinny, your boobs are average, your face is bruised, those braids have seen better days, and you have that sunken cheek face all drug addicts have.”
It’s not like I don’t know all these things about myself. Hell, I’ve said most of them to my reflection in the mirror many times. However, hearing her say them out loud makes me feel like shit. Especially when she looks like a goddess.
“What’s your point?” I ask trying to keep my chin from wobbling with my need to cry.
Her face never changes, never showing anything but mild disgust and a little interest.
“My point is, why don’t I pull the trigger now and put you out of your misery. That’s what you’ve been trying to do for years, right?”
I shake my head as tears spill down my face. “No.”
She once again points to the file beside her. “That’s not what this tells me. I mean this is just two documented cases, but we both know there are more. All the drug binges, the dating the drug dealer, even that fire was another weak attempt at ending your life. You’re just going about it the long way.
“Eventually the coke and pills won’t do it for you anymore and you’ll move on to other drugs to get your high like crack, meth, or even heroine. Before long this,” she waves her gun up and down my body. “Will be the best you’ve ever looked. So, I’m here to tell you to either shit or get off the pot. Let me make it quick.”
She points the gun at my head. I shut my eyes as the tears pour down my face.
As hard as it is to hear, she’s right. Everything I’ve done has been with the carelessness of someone who doesn’t give a shit about their life. That night I burnt the trap house down, I knew I was too high to touch that stove but I did. I even knew the stove was faulty, but I still turned it on.
All the times I snorted coke or took pills I took them with the understanding that at any time it could be my last, yet it didn’t stop me. I’ve been on a slow mission all my life to end myself. To finish what my father didn’t.
Why not just allow her to make it quick? A bullet to the head is a lot faster way to go than slowly poisoning my body over time. I didn’t see myself moving on to anything stronger, but who says I wouldn’t. Who says I won’t end up in a ditch somewhere with a needle sticking out of my arm.
“I don’t want to die,” I mumble as I fight through my clogged throat.
“I don’t believe you,” she shrugs.
Before tonight, I don’t think I would’ve believed myself. However, after truly staring death in the face so many times tonight, I can honestly say I’m not ready. I don’t want to die. Yes, the shit with my father haunts me.
I’ll never get over the look in his face when he pulled that trigger, but I’ve been held hostage to that night for too long. It’s time I used the extended life I was given. There is a reason I didn’t die that night. I need to figure out why.
“I mean it this time. I’ll go to rehab. I’ll get clean.”
She shakes her head. “You’ve been seven times already. What’s the point? You’re just wasting everyone’s time. Why should I believe, this time will be different?”
Again, it’s hard to argue when she’s right, but this time, I really mean it.
I shut my eyes and those green intense one’s pop into my head. I’m once again standing in that room with Nic and Gabe. The pills are on the floor and my mouth is watering for an escape. His words play back in my head.
I open my eyes and lift my chin as I stare at the woman in front of me.
“It will be different, because I’m better than this,” I angrily wipe at my eyes.
I’m tired of allowing my past to overrule me. Yeah, I got scars, but I’m not the only one that’s dealing with shit. I met a man tonight that has more demons than I’d ever imagine, but he saved me in more ways than he knows. I want to be a better person.
