Prolonge

When I was younger I believed that when I grew up I'd marry a trashy dork, a nerdy pushover named Rylie. Rylie wasn't as enthusiastic as I was, he believed paper grew on trees. I believed paper grew and only grew on books. I was 10, and naive. Jerkward Jeremy with the old 60’s hair cut, working the farms with his dad that found reading the paper and sucking wheat was fun. His ego was too big for such a sad upbringing. I was 12, even more naive. Marcus Collins, typical rich white bad boy from Canada just looking for fun on streets he knows he's not from. His dad really liked me, like really liked me… I was 15 when Marcus first brought me home, it was two years too long. I was the most naive, I found out he was cheating on me with my childhood best friend Roger Baywall. So I fucked his dad, the look on his eyes when he found out made up for those two years of misery anyway. I didn't necessarily hate it, but it did check all the box’s for the worst year of my goddamn life. Before my parents found out I’d already said goodbye to America, I know that's not what really happened. The full story is a whole fucked up truth, no one likes truths. I had a messed up bringing, so what?

The full story is pieced into this book. I write my story in my journal  to explain my trauma to the pages as if it's a person, it sounds insane. I promise you it isn't, i’m not sick but rather exhausted. Sometimes  when I can't breathe I deliberately hold my nose and stab my skin through my nails to calm myself down. I had panic attacks regularly, I overthink, I black out, and the cycle repeats. It's not self harm, god no. It stops myself from going mentally insane, the worst nights are when I bleed. It takes an hour for me to at least stand up straight, it takes two to actually calm down.

Lana, my therapist , thinks it's worst. She says it's this sort of coping mechanism, you see I can't calm myself down without it. Pills don't help, drugs, psychiatrists, doctors nothing, nothing, nothing. I cut my nails and tie my hands down because it hurts when they dig into my skin, it really hurts. I don't want to die. I know I don't. Though it's been getting better, my self absorbed parents walked me through all stages. My so-called family made it worse, their problems meant more than I did. No one understood…  I overcame these attacks, but my ‘coping mechanism’ stays. Maybe because it’s what I used to get through that night.

But when He arrives. It all changes.

Avalda is my name. Avalda is what I'm called.

Welcome to My Garden.

I awake in a hospital room, pain sweeping underneath my torso. I feel the scars forming underneath my rib cage, I reckon the old ones hurt more but maybe that's just me. This is the first incident… that has happened in months. It's my worst… I'm 16 years old, still figuring myself out. I peek through my left eye open and see my mother, father…My brother. I see Liza crying, my parents comforting her and my brother…shit. “You fuc- she's awake.” Clay knocks over his chair and storms out the door, what a ****. I sigh, opening my eyes in defeat. “Why is he in a bad mood?” Not the best of things to say, when you’ve woken up from a near death experience. But I've been in this situation too many times to see the point. “Good afternoon darling…” My mother shoots me a worried expression, my father glides towards me and places his hand on mine. “Your mother wants to speak to you abou-”

“-Oh dad, No, No, No…No, god no- please” I shouted, fighting his hold with my bare strength.

My dads disappointed look swallows me away, I want to disappear. If at any moment I could, It’d be right now. My mother massages her head stressed, and my brother…gone. “I'm fine mom, it's the first one in months- hell a year.” I protest, she shakes her head on the verge of tears. “It shouldn't be happening at all, I get you thinking you're strong enough to fight this alone but I- I…I can’t… Please.” I push up, ripping the straws of whatever is plugged in me out.

 “You always do this! God mom you’re so selfish-” My dad stepped in front of the hospital bed, holding the sides. I stopped moving. “Don't start Valda she wants to talk, don't do this to her.” He whispers to me. “To her? For christ sake dad , I'm 16 years old! It was a little panic attack, I'm fine!” My brother arrives at the door, he's holding a coffee and a water. He passes my mother the coffee, my dad the water. “What? You thought I'd get you one because you tried to kill yourself?” Im stunned, my jaw opened. I hold back a million tears, “I didnt-” He cuts me off and slams the food tray on the ground “You did, that coping bullshit. You’re honestly better off dead-” My dad shoves him against the wall.

“Watch your tone.” This is exactly why I wanted to move out. My mother grabbed his bicep, pulling at my father gently, “Honey” she whispered. Of course because no one can see us like this. “She’s selfish, she only cares for herself. You work your *** off and mums taking god knows pills to stop herself from going insane, all because of her!” I’m sure if dad didn't have him pinned on the wall the way he did, Clay would have lunged at me. My dad put more force into holding him down. Then, his words sunk into me.  “Your sister is trying her hardest, just- please Clay.” My father says, rubbing his forearm. My brother breaks out of his hold, and again…storms out. “I always knew he had anger issues.” Both of them are now shooting me a glare. Liza runs towards me, her little petite body snuggling to me.

My dad walks out, after Clay. I hold Liza closer, she's shaking underneath my arm. “How dare you, how dare you tear this family apart. It's all your fault, you’re miserable you do nothing! Are you happy, is this what you wanted? It's always gotta be about you!” My mother screamed, yes my mother, manipulative lady I call my mom. Oh but of course it's my fault for being tied down by a trauma I can't even accept, she races out the room. My little sister snuggles deeper into my touch, I embrace her in a tight hug and lean down to her wiping her tears that fall on her cheek. “You alright, pilot?” I ask, caressing her cheek with my thumb. She ignores me, it hurts a little more than it should. “Avalda...” I sigh, hearing her voice say my name like that I can't help but sink in guilt. “I know Liza- I… know…” tears form in her eyes. I want to say I'm sorry, sorry for being like this. Sorry for the unhealthy decisions I've made, sorry for my trauma… But no words can grieve how sorry I am.

On the earliest flight the next day I take it and fly to Rewa, a state in the US. a small town where my aunt lives, it was either this or a mental institution. That was a joke, my moms a bit messed up but not like that. She’d just send me to a little place for sick crazy teenangers, like that place in Girl Interrupted, or To The Bone, you know. Lana, my therapist thinks. No, she knows I wont heal from places like that. She says there's nothing wrong with me, all I have to do is…

“I'll miss you so much my dear…” My mother tightens her hold around me, we’ve never been close but I know she loves me. She's just figuring herself out too. Maybe. “Only a few days? Right…” I ask. I notice the quick panicked glance that she and my father exchange, “I'm not coming back, am I? “right…Ah, your flight! I love you darling, go explore and have fun!” This is it. I should've known she’d throw me away like this, she’s really given up… I hold back the waterfall behind my eyes, and steep down to Liza. Holding her the tightest I've ever held her before. “See you Pilot.” I salute her before kissing her forehead. I look around trying to find my brother before my dad interrupts me, “He has school, it was a very important meeting. You’ll be back in a couple of days and you'll see him then.” I'm not sure what hurt more, my brother not here to see me leave and never come back, or the way my father just blatantly lied to me. To my face… “Sure” I stutter, pinching myself harder. I'm really trying my hardest not to bawl in front of them, but I can't help it.

I boarded the plane, with one last turn. I mouth the words mom, and shoot her a text before going inside.

Me; ‘I'm not coming back am I’

She looks down at her phone, and I swear I hear my heart crack when she looks me in the eye and shakes her head. Tears racing down her freckled cheeks, my dad closes his eyes holding Liza as she tries to escape to me. I see a notification, my brother;

Clay; ‘It's what's best.’

I take a seat near the window, and that's when it starts. The tears that I held flood onto my lap. I delete photos, memories, notes, songs, any reminder of them. They're gone, no more. Now for the one thing that makes me happy. My journal.

Avalda’s Journal.

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