So Sacrifice Yourself, and Let Me Have What's Left

The way he was sitting made me uncomfortable. He was staring at me, his beady black eyes scanning over my body, searching for the language that it was speaking. My arms were folded tightly across my waist as I kept my legs shut, and piled one on top of the other, with my back hunched almost as if I was cowering away from a predator searching for its prey, as I stared back at this man. Neither one of us were speaking, which is exactly how I wanted it, and I hoped it was going to be like this for the next hour I had with him. But, to my dismay, I saw his thin mustache worming around on top of his upper lip, which only meant two things. He was either going to start talking and break the silence between us, or he was going to sneeze, spewing various specs of mucus into the polluted air at sixty miles per second.
“So, Candace, do you have a nickname?” Doctor Thompson asked, his thin brown mustache quivering against his tanned skin as he spoke to me.

I shook my head side to side, looking down at my hands, then at my wrists that were hidden under my jacket sleeve. I remembered the last time I was in a place like this. I looked much different then, what with the bandages and IV sticking out of my arm, my skin a low tint of yellow with a red circle rimming my eyes, and, instead of me sitting in a chair like I was now, I was lying down on a hospital bed that had wheels, making it easy to transport me from the ICU building and into the Suicidal Help building.

I remembered the day it happened. I remembered sitting in my bathtub, with excess water flowing gently down the edges like a waterfall, only the water wasn’t a clear color like it’s supposed to, that time it was a dark red color as I lay motionless in the bathtub full of water, eyes wide open, staring off into space, as my wrists continued its pulse, pumping out the dark red liquid of blood from my veins and onto the tile floor. It was supposed to be my final hour in this world, but something I wasn’t expecting happened. I remembered Cynthia screaming for Devin, who quickly picked my lifeless, cold body up from the bathtub, wrapping a towel around myself, and hurrying through the house, into the garage, and pushing me into the backseat. I remembered him driving at an illegal speed down the road as the clock struck midnight in the sleepy town of McKinley, Illinois. I remembered being put into an unfamiliar white room with people hovering around me, sticking me with various needles. The edges of my eyes began to blacken, and I knew what was going to happen. I had finally pushed it too far, and I got my wish. I was slowly dieing. Although I really wasn’t, it was just the anesthesia knocking me out as the random doctors and nurses tried to save my life that I didn’t want to be saved, trying to keep my heart beating while I didn’t want it to beat. I remembered Danielle and Leana not even caring if I had tried to commit suicide, which wasn’t something that I should’ve been surprised about, considering they both would rather have me dead than alive. Once I had come out of my long sleep, and awoke to stitches covering my arms and having blood pumped back into my body, I learned I had to have a therapist’s help for the majority of my life until I was more outgoing and happy, or, as I think, what people think a teenager should be like. I really wished that they knew that I was naturally like this, and that they would think I was back to normal. But no, they saw me as still suicidal, which was slightly true, and that I would need a therapist for the rest of my life. No matter where I go, I would always have to have one. I even have a piece of paper signed from the government saying that I was a danger to myself and those around me and would need medical help until the day I died, which I hoped would come sooner so I would be put out of this hell that I was sentenced to.

“When you get the urges,” Doctor Thompson said, gaining half of my attention while the other half really didn’t want to listen to the bullshit he was going to tell me about my road to recovery—a road that I would never travel down. “What do they usually feel like? What symptoms do you get?”

I wasn’t going to tell this man anything. He didn’t deserve to hear the sound of my voice. I wasn’t going to let this man feel like he had won, and that he was going to know my deepest and darkest thoughts, which were only my thoughts and mine only. He wasn’t worthy enough to know the way my mind worked, simply because I knew he wouldn’t understand. I stared at him, my lips not even twitching, signaling that I was going to speak. I made sure that I built up all the anger and hate inside of me and that those emotions were shooting from my eyes like cannon balls, aimed directly at him.

Doctor Thompson realized what I was trying to do, and I figured he had dealt with patients like this before. “I’m not here to tell you what’s right and what’s wrong.” He said, even though I knew it was a bold faced lie. “I’m here to try to help you to recover, and learn to love not only yourself, but others as well.” He said, putting on a smile that I knew was fake. I could tell that he would rather be somewhere else, instead of sitting in a chair in front of a nutcase little girl that looked like she was about to rip his throat out from his skin, spewing blood everywhere and turning into the cannibalistic person that hides in everyone, feeding on his internal organs, licking the blood while lust filled my eyes that were sparkling with hunger.

I continued to stay silent, hoping he would end this session early, thinking that I was nothing but a lost cause. Although, meeting as many therapists as I have, I knew he wanted his money and, if he didn’t try to help this demented child in front of him, he wouldn’t get paid. This basically told me that he was going to try everything in his power to get me to talk, although I would really appreciate it if he would just let me sit here for the next thirty minutes doing what we were for the past thirty minutes, saying absolutely nothing.

Doctor Thompson sighed, signaling he was going to speak once more. “Candace, I understand that you feel like you don’t belong. But that’s not true, there are people like you, and those are the people you should interact with. They’ve all been in your position before, and they understand you, meaning they won’t judge you by the things you’ve done.” He said softly, thinking that he was finally getting to me.

Little did this man know that I was immune to sympathy. I had taught myself to not crack under kind words, knowing that the only reason why those words were said was to make me feel better, and open up to the person who said them. I was much more intelligent than what this man took me for. I could see his plan wheeling around in his mind, meaning that I was always going to be one step ahead of whatever trick he was going to try to pull on me.

I figured that perhaps now would be a good time to begin speaking, but I wasn’t responding to anything that Doctor Thompson had told me. “Can I go home?” I asked quietly, making myself sound helpless, which usually worked when it came to men. They liked that, for some reason.

Doctor Thompson stared at me intently, and I knew he was thinking of what to say to what I had asked. I could see in his eyes that he was considering my suggestion, meaning that he really didn’t want to be here in this room either. I saw a slight smirk forming across his thin lips, and I knew that he was coming up with something that would force me to speak. Doctor Thompson nodded, and looked at me. “Alright, Candace, we can end this session early.” He said, and when I began to gather my things he said something that made me stop in my tracks. “When you answer my question, I’ll let you go.” Doctor Thompson smirked, knowing that he had to play it sneaky in order to get words to escape my lips.

I sat back down on the chair that was provided for me, and stared at this man who I began to strongly dislike by the second. I didn’t say anything, but my eyes gave away that I was waiting to hear his question, meaning that I was going to answer, despite the fact that I really didn’t want to. But I needed to leave this place, and soon, even though I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Although that fact didn’t bother me one bit.

Doctor Thompson cleared his throat, preparing for the question he was going to ask. His hands were clasped together and placed on his knee that was attached to one of his legs that was draped over the other, making his black socks and black shiny shoes completely visible. “I heard you have sisters, Danielle and Leana? And I’ve had the fortune of meeting them. They’re both lovely girls, and let’s not forget attractive.” He said, which made me feel slightly uncomfortable at hearing him calling my under aged sisters attractive when he was well over his thirties and, from what I could tell by the ring on his finger and the various pictures plastered all over his office, he was married with two children. “They don’t seem to have much interest in you, correct? Does that bother you?”

I knew that wasn’t his question, but I answered anyway. I lifted my slender shoulders up and down in a shrug, parting my plush lips apart, letting a few words escape. “Not really.” I mumbled, which was a lie. It did bother me that they were both undeniably gorgeous and didn’t care about me. I wanted a family, I’ll admit, and it hurt me knowing that the people I lived with hated me.

“Are you sure? Because, believe it or not, for most of my patients, their ‘problem’,” Doctor Thompson said, hiding the words ‘mental break down’ with the word ‘problem’. “Started with their family. For most of them it was because their parents didn’t love them much, and for others it was because they had a secret sibling rivalry taking place with their brother or sister. Candace, tell me, is that what happened to you? Are you secretly jealous of your sisters? I promise you I won’t report this to your parents once they ask me how you’re taking your road to recovery. This is simply something I want to know so I can have a better understanding of you and why you started your ‘problem’.”

I wasn’t going to tell this man anything he didn’t need to know. I didn’t want to let this man in, only for him to tell Cynthia and Devin, only furthering their beliefs on me being a mental nutcase that needed to be put in a padded room with a jacket where the sleeves were placed tightly across my body so I wouldn’t hurt anyone what with me being crazy and all, which is what they thought, and, to tell the truth, I began to think that with them. Perhaps I really was crazy, what with me hearing the Perfect Ones and the Chant, and being the only one to hear those voices. I felt a slight pulse beating against my left wrist, and I knew I had to answer this man and soon, so I could escape from this room that was full of demons that were just waiting for me to crack and finally lose it, although I think we’re well past that point. “No, I’m not.” I said, holding back the urge to stutter. “I could never be jealous of people like them. We just don’t like each other. Isn’t that normal? I simply started my ‘problem’, because I felt like no one loved me. I don’t want Danielle and Leana’s love, fuck no, if I ever want their love then you have every right to call me batshit crazy. I won’t mind, because I’ll most likely agree with you.” I said, taking in a small breath that my lungs were so desperately asking for from me. Doctor Thompson nodded, slightly surprised that I had actually said more than two words. But, then again, perhaps he was really surprised because I basically just told him to ‘fuck off’ because, even though I really didn’t say it, my tone of voice told him what I really wanted to say. I could see he got the picture, and I stood up, holding my purse tightly against me, as I looked down at him. “There, I answered your question. Now I’ll be leaving. Good day to you, Doctor Thompson.” I nodded, acknowledging his existence, and stormed out of his office, hoping he wouldn’t try to get me to speak more than I wanted to.

I leaned my back against one of the pillars that were placed in front of the Huntington Beach Memorial Hospital, holding up the block of cement that said those words, as I waited for whoever it was that was going to pick me up. No one really told me who was going to pick me up this morning when Cynthia and I were leaving our house to come here, so I wasn’t sure whose car to look for.

“Candace!” a voice said from a few feet away from me. I jumped slightly at the sudden noise, considering everything was deathly quiet before as I stood in front of the hospital.

I turned to see who had called my name, and my brows furrowed at the sight of Brian standing beside a black car, looking right at me. Brian gestured me to come towards him, and I obeyed, moving my feet to where they were walking one in front of the other as I reached where Brian was now standing in front of me as he opened the passenger side of the car he was leaning against open.

I gave him a confused look as I looked from the open door to him, tilting my head to the side slightly, earning a small smile to appear on Brian’s lips. “I’m taking you to my house.” He said, answering my confused look on my face.

My brows furrowed even more, causing there to be wrinkles in the space between them as my confusion increased at Brian’s words. “Why?” I asked, not only thinking of why he would even want to take me to his house, but thinking about Cynthia and Devin, and, if they were going to pick me up, what would they do if I got in the car with Brian and they drove here a few minutes later to find me disappeared?

Brian shrugged at my question, looking down at me, thanks to our height difference. “We all usually meet up at my house unless Gena says different.” He chuckled. “And Gena’s sick, so everyone’s going to my place, meaning you are, too.” He said, grabbing my arm, which he could wrap all of his fingers around to where it looked like he was making a fist, yes, my arm is really that small, and practically threw me into the passenger seat.

I roughly sat down against the seat, watching as Brian closed the door and made his way in front of his car and to the driver’s seat. Once he was seated and starting the car, I figured now was a good time to ask. “My parents might be picking me up, and—”

“They already knew that I was coming for you.” Brian interrupted, pulling out of the hospital parking lot and driving at a fast speed down the road that was outlined by the beach on one side, the other side outlined by houses looking out into the crystal blue color of the ocean and paper white sand.

“H-how?” I asked, looking at him with the very same confusion placed upon my face as before, not able to believe that Brian had really talked to Cynthia and Devin and they actually agreed to let Brian pick me up and take me somewhere that they weren’t familiar with.

Brian smirked, looking from the road to me, which I was sure wasn’t such a good idea, but he did it anyway. “I have my ways.” He said mischievously, making me a bit afraid of what ‘ways’ he was talking about.

--

“Candace!” Jimmy yelled, tackling me to the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist while not two seconds ago I was intending to step out of the car before being seen by Jimmy who was now on top of me, pressing me down against the cement ground.

“Jim, get off of her, you’re gonna kill her.” Matt laughed, grabbing Jimmy by his shoulders and yanking him off of me. It was at that moment that my lungs fell in love with Matt as they sucked in all the oxygen they could get through my wind pipes. Matt extended his hand towards me, and I gladly took it as he easily lifted me to my feet without having me to put any effort into it whatsoever.

“Thanks.” I mumbled, shoving my hands into my jacket pockets as I gained my balance after being lifted from the ground and onto my feet.

“No problem.” Matt smiled, taking his hand away from mine and putting it by his side, walking towards Brian’s house. “Bet that was pretty freaky to have Brian pick you up and make you come here, huh?” Matt asked, turning to the side so his words came out across his shoulder and into my ears.

I shrugged. He was somewhat telling the truth. It was a bit freaky to have Brian take me somewhere I hadn’t been before, but the rest of me was thinking something totally different. Brian had said that all of the guys were here, meaning the god was somewhere inside the very house that I was walking into with Matt holding the door open for me. I was hoping that he was here. I wanted to see him once more, just to remind myself that he was real, and he did exist, and he had acknowledged my existence at one point when everyone else was pushing against me, leaving me in the dust as they went on with their lives. No, something told me Zacky was much different. He was the only one who actually took the time out of his life to come into that kitchen to see if I was alright, and then to find out my deep secret, and then to have him say those kind words to me to make me feel somewhat better about the sin I was committing. There had to be a part of him that cared. I didn’t care if that’s how he was in general to everyone, just as long as he was that way towards me, I was okay, for now.

“Welcome to mi casa!” Brian said, his arm draped over my shoulders as we walked into his house. “Ignore the smell. Jimmy just had his bath today so some of his fishy smells are seeping through this entire place.” He chuckled, watching as Jimmy stuck his tongue out at him.

I wasn’t so sure of what to do here. Everyone else was making themselves at home by either walking into the kitchen to get something to eat or walking into the living room and taking a spot on the couch or chairs provided. Brian had a pretty nice place. It was small, but I overheard that Brian lived alone, considering he looked old enough to where he could take care of himself. The furniture didn’t really match his personality, and I could tell that his parents probably made him buy those particular pieces of furniture with those particular colors and the way it was styled. I guess everyone’s parents are like that, considering I could see Cynthia trying to decorate Leana or Danielle’s house once they moved out. She wouldn’t do it for me, however, because she would be too busy throwing a party to celebrate me finally leaving her the fuck alone, which was odd, considering I hardly ever said two words to her a day.

“Candace? Yoo-hoo!” I saw a hand waving over my eyes, causing me to jump back into reality. I looked to see Jimmy looking back at me with a confused look upon his face. “You sure don’t pay attention a lot, you know that?” he asked as he stopped waving his hand in my face and starting to walk towards the living room, gesturing me to follow.

I did as I was told and walked behind Jimmy. Something black caught my eye, and I turned my head to where my green eyes were looking out a very large window that was used as a door. The porch that was attached to Brian’s house led out into a crystal beach with white sand outlining the blue waters. I saw a black figure sitting on the sand, watching the water as it crashed against the shore. I immediately knew that this was the god sitting alone on the beach even though his back was faced towards me, I could never forget such a beautiful body. I felt the urge to walk out of this house and towards the god, hoping to talk to him or just stare at him all day which was something I knew I could do if I had to.

“You should go talk to him.” an unfamiliar voice said close to me.

I turned to see Johnny standing beside me. I had never heard him talk before, and I thought maybe he couldn’t for a while, but now I realized that maybe he was just shy, or something. We were about the same height, only his hair made him slightly taller. He was staring out through the window and at Zacky just like I was before he started talking, making me look at him instead of the god, which was a new one. “Why?” I asked quietly.

Johnny shrugged slightly. “His parents get into really bad fights, and he has to go through them on his own because Gena’s parents aren’t like that, meaning she doesn’t completely understand what he’s going through.” He said.

I was amazed that he had said that much. I figured that he didn’t talk much because the rest of the guys always pick on him, making him careful about the things he said, which was something I could relate to. “And you think I would be able to help?” I asked suspiciously, not so sure of what Johnny was trying to say.

Johnny nodded, looking from Zacky to me. “Don’t you not like your parents?” he asked.

I nodded, a bit surprised that he knew that. Although, with the way that I never really talk about them or act like I love Cynthia and Devin, it shouldn’t be so hard to guess that we don’t get along very well.

“Well, you would be able to understand what Zack’s going through, and maybe help him.” Johnny suggested. “And he wants you to talk to him.” he said, a slight smirk appearing across his lips.

My brows furrowed at his words. “What makes you think that?” I asked. I couldn’t help but think that maybe the god really did find something about me that would interest him, and that maybe, just maybe, there was a part of him that liked me. I completely wiped Gena out of my mind while I was thinking those things, and thinking that I could possibly have a chance with a god like Zacky.

“He thinks about you all the time. He’s crazy for you, and he wants you to talk to him.” Johnny smiled, looking at me as my mouth almost hit the floor. I could tell that he knew that I wanted to hear that. Something told me that Johnny was more of an observer than a talker, meaning that he knew what each and every one of us was thinking by the way our body language and facial expressions were. I didn’t really pay attention to how Johnny knew exactly what Zacky was thinking, however, and how he knew that Zacky thought about me all the time. I didn’t really care, because Johnny told me that Zacky actually wanted me to talk to him. But, the thing was, how was I going to do it?

“He might start crying if you don’t go out there to help him soon.” Johnny chuckled, nodding his head out the window to where we could both see Zacky. Johnny did have a point. Zacky did look a bit down, even though I couldn’t see his face. His black hair that was sticking out in all different places was looking down at the white sand as he sat Indian-style on the ground, the waves just barely coming up against his body. I felt a bit sorry for Zacky. I had a feeling that he was someone who didn’t like it when people were angry at each other or when people yelled. I did feel a bit sorry for Zacky, and there was a part of me that felt like I had to make it better in someway, anyway to make him smile. “You should go.” Johnny said reassuringly, gently pressing against my back, nudging me towards the patio window.

I decided to see if I could finally conquer my fears and finally talk to the god without him knowing that I was there or that I was staring at him like a stalker. I looked at everyone else that was in the living room. They were all watching TV or talking amongst themselves. I even noticed that Johnny was sitting with them as well and not standing beside me like he was a few moments ago. Johnny looked at me, and gave me an encouraging smile, telling me it was alright to talk to Zacky. I nodded, looking back through the patio door that was really a window, and kept my eyes locked on the perfect god sitting alone on the perfect beach as I took my first steps toward him.