I Just Had to Lick the Cookie, Didn't I?

Black clouds
They rain down but
They can't kill the sun
Confession of depression
This life I'm second-guessing
Like ashes to ashes
I always seem to fall down
I'm tired of running
It's time to face my demons
I groaned and rolled over. My eyes fluttered open and I let out a heavy sigh. At least I didn't feel disgusting anymore.

"Milo," I mumbled and rolled on to my back.

"Uh, no sweetie. Milo's---"

"Right here!"

Completely confused, I sat up and looked around. Gary was at the foot of the bed, dumbstruck and staring at the door. Milo had just burst into the room with a huge smile on his face and a box in his hands.

"Did I miss something?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"Well, I had to go somewhere and Gary came to keep an eye on you while I was away," Milo informed me. I nodded briefly and then looked at Gary. He hadn't moved since the whole shocking incident a few seconds ago.

"Are you alright?" I questioned Gary. He nodded slightly and then blinked himself out of his little trance.

"Good as new. But let me tell you," he said, turning to look at me, "you are no fun. I am never babysitting you again. Ever. I thought you were going to kill me with your thrashing and manic mood swings."

"Right," I said skeptically. "So, where'd you go?" I turned to Milo who shrugged and walked over to me.

"I'll tell you later," he said, and set the box on the bed next to my legs. He gave me a quick smile before sitting down right beside me and then looking at Gary.

"Soooo," Gary stated, looking around the room and most likely feeling awkward. "I should get going. My mannequins are calling for me." He waved at us before making a quick exit.

Both Milo and I started laughing once Gary was out of the room. His face was priceless...

"Feeling better?" Milo asked, taking a deep breath.

"Much," I replied and looked over at him. "So, where'd you go?"

"Promise not to get mad," he demanded in his usual tone. I watched him skeptically for a second before nodding.

"Pinky promise," I told him, holding out my pinky finger. He chuckled and then linked his own pinky with mine.

"Alright, well, your mother called you earlier, but you were asleep. I figured I'd answer, just in case it was important," he informed me. That really wasn't all that bad though, I didn't mind. But there had to be something else, right? Why else would he make me promise not to get mad? "When I answered, she was absolutely hysterical and demanded I come and collect your things from the house. Apparently they sold it."

They what? They sold my house!?

Despite all of the bad memories I had from living in that house, I had many positive ones. I learned to ride a bike there, I learned to cook and bake there, I had my first slumber party there, I grew upthere. Even if I spent some of the worst times of my life in that house, I also spent some of my happiest there. While we still lived there, it was easier to pretend like everything was okay. When we had moved, I became a different person around them. The way I had acted and treated them, that wasn't normal...

"Do you know why?" I asked softly. Milo shook his head. Trying to lighten the mood, I changed the subject. "So, how did it go?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure I got everything. I have some questions for you, but I'll get to that. First I'd just like to say that your grandmother will not be invited to the wedding."

I laughed.

"You've met the evil witch, huh?" I asked him. He nodded.

"As a matter of fact, I did. I was about ready to stab her. She wouldn't leave me alone..." he notified me. However, I still felt like I was being kept from something. If it had to do with that woman, it was most likely a long list of insults directed at me. Milo probably hadn't known what to think. The poor guy was probably shocked by her harsh words. Truth is, that woman abused me in so many ways. All except for physically.

"Sorry you had to deal with her..." I whispered and looked to the box he had brought back. Curious, I leaned forward and then pulled it on to my lap. Right on top was a picture I thought I had hidden. Apparently my hiding place wasn't as great as I thought. A little advice, don't hide things under sofa cushions.

Smiling, I took the picture from the box. My mother was pissed when this got developed. According to her, Hakim was a dirty Arab and he had no business setting foot in her house ever again once he turned eighteen. Those words were probably fed to her by my grandmother, and she most likely only took to them because she resented Hakim with most of her heart. Something told me that she still loved him, but what's a woman to do when her mother practically brain washes her?

"Who is that?" Milo inquired. His voice sounded strained, so I looked up at him, still smiling. He seemed a bit tense, and angry...

"This is my half brother Hakim," I told him unsurely, perplexed by his odd behavior.

"You have a brother?" he asked, shocked. I nodded.

"I've learned not to talk about him much, my mother hates his guts. My father got this girl pregnant his freshman year in college. She came from this extremely religious Egyptian family and they disowned her. When Hakim was born, she had nowhere to go. My father's parents took them in and helped raise him until my father graduated law school. Then once he and my mother were married Hakim came to live with them. My mother wasn't exactly thrilled, but she got over it once I came around. They kicked Hakim out once he turned eighteen. His mom actually died when he was eight... We were really close. I haven't been able to reach him in awhile though. He joined the Peace Corp and he's been in random places for over a year and a half now..." I informed Milo, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. Tears had started to form from the memories.

"Wow," Milo whistled. That made me smile a little, and I set the picture down. I dug through the pictures in the box until I came to some rather interesting things.

In the middle of the box were the three notebooks I had kept underneath my mattress. My heart started to pound with the fear that Milo had read them. Part of me hoped that he had so that I wouldn't have to tell him everything my self, but another part prayed he hadn't so that I might not have to explain some things...

I pulled them all out and set them down beside me. Then I continued to dig through to the bottom. That's when I found the home videos and my sketch book. The sketch book wasn't a big deal, I had plenty more with far more important drawings. The home videos were another story. Those were very personal, and they were from a better time in my life. If I never watched them again I wouldn't have minded.

"Milo, I need to tell you something," I sighed. That was it. I had made the decision that I would tell him right then and there about what I've gone through and why I am the way I am. I knew deep down that if I didn't tell him right then, I wouldn't tell him at all.

"What is it?" he asked, concerned. Taking a deep breath, I looked over at him and resituated myself.

"You know how your family is..." I started and trailed off, not being able to find the right term.

"Fucked up? Yes, I know. Continue," he finished for me with a smile. I smiled quickly back.

"Well, my family is sort of like that. We weren't always, but things changed when Faith went into a coma." He nodded for me to continue. "My grandmother's hated me my whole life really, so she isn't included. Everyone else, however, turned their backs over time, figuring that it was all my fault. I mean, who can blame them?" I told him quickly, the tears from earlier coming back again.

"That wasn't your fault," Milo whispered gently. All I did was grunt in response.

"So, they basically abandoned me and ignored me. I could have died and I doubt they'd have noticed until something started to smell... I---" My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't say anymore. Tears started to fall and I wiped them away quickly. "I can't do this, just read those," I told him.

"Adriaan, it's alright. Why don't you rest some more?" Milo suggested. I nodded clumsily and then slid under the covers again.

I'm so weak, aren't I? I really am pathetic. I can't even get through telling Milo about myself without breaking down and being a baby about it. On the plus side, he'd get all of the information I couldn't tell him to his face from those notebooks. However, he's also be able to learn some things I had hoped to keep a secret until I died. Let's just say I made the mistake of telling people once, and it didn't end well. They didn't believe me. That hurt me inside...really bad.

With my eyes closed, I heard Milo pick up something from next to me, and I could only assume it was one of the notebooks. Hopefully he picked the right one. While I started to drift, the sound of paper rustling filled my ears. Thankfully I actually like that sound. A lot.

MILO'S POV

I watched as she fell asleep, the red notebook open in my lap.

On the covers of the notebooks, Adriaan had written dates. This was the oldest, so I figured I'd read them in order.

Once I was sure she was asleep I began to read. Her handwriting was messy, but legible. Various water stains appeared in numerous places, and that's what got me to really focus on every word.

I've never been too keen on keeping stupid diaries, but I figure that since Faith is...the way she is it's the only thing to do.

The accident made me realize that I might want to look back on the times in my life. Some day when I'm down I can go back and read what I wrote on a good day, then maybe I'll be happy again...

After I read the first page, which was essentially like an introduction, I flipped the page. Before reading the next seventy-nine double-sided sheets of lined paper, I took a breath and thought.

What could be so bad that Adriaan broke down crying? Obviously I knew that her family had some issues, but they couldn't be that bad, could they? I mean, I hadn't told her about the issues my family and I had myself, but I knew that she knew. I don't really know anything about her.

Her favorite color is red, she told me that. And I know that she used to ride horses... Other than that my knowledge only goes so far. For instance, why would her parents force her into marriage. My parents had a reason---however questionable it might be---but I didn't know what Cameron and Gabrielle's was.

Over the past week I've noticed changes. I know that I'm depressed, but I don't know if my parents know. I blame myself, I'm not going to deny it. The thing is, I think that they might blame me too.

They're always at the hospital because some doctor said she'll probably wake up sooner than later. I've been trying to take care of myself, but I'm not sure if I can do it. All I think about is 'What if she dies?' What will I do then?

Every day is like a stab to my gut. I have to get up and face life alone. At school people don't really know all of the details, not even Matthew. He just knows I got in an accident, I haven't exactly told him yet. It's funny though, he hasn't noticed the differences. Even I can see them.

There are bags under my eyes because I hardly sleep. I get these terrible nightmares.

I hardly eat anymore because I just don't feel like it.

It's like torture. No one even cares, I just hope that it gets better. Who am I to hog the attention? Faith's the one lying in a hospital bed being fed through a tube. I don't even visit her, how horrible is that?
I read on for two hours. My mind was on overdrive, processing every word and coming to hate her family for myself. How could her parents be so cruel?

I learned about everything she went through and it pained me. Gradually the seriousness of her depression became deeper and more obvious. It was throughout the first two that the change was the greatest. In the third notebook, there was no more room for more depression. At least that's what I thought until the last entry.

I don't ever want to relive last night. I don't ever want to see Matthew Christians again. I hate his fucking guts with all of my soul and if I could, I would slice every inch of his body with a knife and then force him into a coffin filled with acid. Then he would learn to suffer. He would feel what it was like inside of my world... I want him to die. I want him to feel what I'm feeling after what he did to me.
There was more, but before I read on a thought came to me. Adriaan's grandmother had said something about some Christians boys' reputation. When she told me that I was curious, but I hadn't asked Adriaan about it. Perhaps I wouldn't have to.