When I Look at the Stars, I Feel Like Myself

I can't believe it. Holland never really talked about her family, so I guess I just assumed there was nothing to say. How could a mother be so horrible to a daughter like Holland? I mean, not even my mother is that bad, since she has her reasons. I'm the world's worst child, so I can't really blame my mother.

But Holland is so sweet, so kind. How could her mother punish her like that, just for being the way she is? If I ever meet this lady, I swear she won't live to see the next day. And her sister...

She seemed really nice. I can't believe what a bitch she was to Holland. Just because she existed.

Holland's right, sibling rivalry isn't in my vocabulary. Dad wasn't around enough to pick favorites, I never wanted my mother's love, and she didn't want our aunt's love. She was mom's favorite, I was aunt's favorite.

Of course, they tried to spread their love evenly. But you could tell.

Hearing all this is making me anxious. One, I feel like I should have noticed. I did notice that something was wrong, but I didn't do anything about it. I feel so awful about it. I was too wrapped up in myself to really do anything. I did care, but obviously not enough.

Two, if Holland's bulimia is really that severe, then she would have to go to some kind of clinic, or hospital that specializes in eating disorders. I've read enough books to know that. That's one person gone in the band when we get home.

We'll still keep her, of course. But we'll have to hold everything. Our records, our tours, even our practices. Can't really practice anything without a guitarist. And we're not getting a replacement, there's no way in hell anyone in our band would agree with that. That's a low blow, basically kicking someone out of the band for having a mental disorder.

I wish there was something we could do, to keep her in the band, even if she were at a clinic. You First is the only thing that's keeping me tied to Arizona. I don't know where else I'd go, I've always dreamed of seeing Vegas. You know, the whole Sin City. Not just a venue somewhere within the limits.

"We could simulate a facility," Ross starts, breaking me out of my trance. I was paying attention, really. I heard Holland's whole story.

That statement relieves me. I give a silent sigh, I won't have to resort to drastic measures after all. I probably wouldn't have the guts to run away, anyway.

Run away. The phrase repeats in my mind. I don't know what everyone else thinks of it, but it sounds pretty good to me.

When Holland gets up to leave, she seems pretty homicidal. I don't think she would actually kill Ross...

Would she?

Any other thoughts I had are cut off. Riley bursts out a sentence, something I haven't heard in a long time. Something that scared me to death the first time I heard it.

“I have cancer,” she exclaims, as if she couldn't hold it in.

No. No, no, no, no! She's lying. She can't have cancer. She's just playing a joke. A sick, cruel joke.

“I have to go!” she says, pushing past everyone.

I get past my initial shock, and am the first one to say anything towards her, “Is it true?” I ask.

Riley pauses in her escape, her hand frozen to the doorknob.

“Is it true?” I ask again, louder and assertive.

She turns around and I see a look of hurt on her face, “Why would I lie about that?” She turns fully to me, and I think she might yell. I don't think I've ever heard Riley raise her voice, so I think I'm okay on that department. “I have breast cancer,” she admits.

I don't know why, but I can't hold my tears in this time. I can't lose anyone again, not to cancer. Also, even if Riley does make it out alive, that's still a long time in the hospital for her. I don't think she could bring herself to practices when she's not bed-ridden.

There's no reason for me to stay, now. I can't just watch Riley slowly die like that, I wouldn't be able to take it. My dad, my aunt, Erin. All of them were slowly dying right before my eyes. I wish they could have gone quick, painless.

I feel a hand on my back, and jerk away. I can't help it. I try to relax, to let them comfort me, but the more I relax, the more I flinch.

“Elina,” Dalton says softly, pulling me into a hug. I violently sink into his hug, and try to slow my breathing.

“What's wrong?” someone asks, desperation hinting at their voice.

“Please,” I choke out through my dying sobs, “Don't go,” I say, pointed at Riley, but to everyone in general.

I see my aunt, dying in a hospital bed. Her eyes glazed over. Suddenly, Riley's face takes her place, and I scream. I can't watch this. Holland soon replaces her, and her voice is raspy when she speaks to me.

“I just... couldn't stop.” I know that bulimia can kill you. It terrifies me what will happen if Holland can't stop making herself throw up. Three years is a long time to be doing something to just quit cold turkey.

I can't stop seeing the images, my father bleeding on the grass due to Arizona's annual monsoons. The lights leaving his eyes. How depressed Erin was before I left. I shouldn't have went, I should have helped her get better.

I've killed all these people, indirectly. I was distracting dad with my singing in the car while he was supposed to be watching the road extra careful. I didn't try to stop my aunt when she decided to quit treatments. I didn't try to help Erin when I clearly saw she was upset. I'm a murderer.

And now, I've gone and possibly killed two other people. I should have noticed Holland's bulimia, she had to have vomited on the job. We worked at the ice cream shop together, and she always took a bathroom break.

I guess there's nothing I could have done about Riley, I mean it's not easy to notice cancer, especially in the early stages, unless you tell someone. But, I could have gotten to know her better. Maybe I would have realized something.

“Elina, it's okay,” someone coos in my ear. I recognize the voice as Zack, they must have called him to come over here.

“Zack!” I exclaim, trading Dalton's arms for his. I wrap my arms around his neck, and almost instantly calm down.

“What's wrong?” he asks, as I look around the room. John is here as well, and I don't want him to be.

I debate telling my band everything, down to the Halloween party. I can't do it, though. I just can't. I wish I were as brave as Holland or Riley, but I'm not. Just not as strong.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, ignoring his question, and wiping the tears from my cheeks.

He does it for me, and looks deep into my eyes, “Calvin called me, said you wanted me over here,”

My cheeks heat up. In my flashback/freakout thing, I was calling Zack's name. I don't even remember doing it.

“I'm glad you're here,” I mumble.

He pulls me into a hug, and whispers in my ear, “This won't stop until you tell them,”

I nod in understanding. I knew that, but I was just hoping that telling one person would be enough.

“I... uh, have something to tell you guys,” I say, poking the carpet with my toe.

“Well, obviously,” RJ says, not in a mean way. More concerned, I suppose.

“I was seven,” I launch into my story, “And my parents had just been fighting, so my dad took us out for ice cream, so my mom could cool down a little. It was monsoon season, so we really shouldn't have been out on the road. We got caught in a storm, and my dad was distracted by something, so he didn't notice the curve in the road till it was too late. Normally, it would have been the time to turn, but since it was raining, you had to approach it slowly. Well, not noticing it prevented him from going a proper speed. We spun off the road, and hit a tree.

“My dad wasn't wearing his seat belt, so he went flying out of the car. I broke seven bones, and had to get seven stitches in my leg. But, I still went to find my dad. Erin was passed out, she got a mild concussion, so she didn't remember any of it, but I saw the whole thing.

“I heard the sirens in the background, and my dad was gone. He said my name twice, and then he was dead. I couldn't save him. Not even the police showed up fast enough. The official cause of death was a punctured lung, and ruptured spleen. I saw him die.”

I look around the room. Everyone is sitting now, quietly listening to my story. They don't make small jokes like they did while Holland was talking, they just sit and listen.

“Then my aunt came, and she helped us out, while we were struggling through financial problems. She really didn't mind, she never married, or had kids, since she was a lesbian. I think she enjoyed it, actually. She said something to me, something I don't think I want to forget. Just before she died, she said, 'I've lived a good life, so please don't cry for me. There was two things I didn't get to do, so I want you to do them for me. I always wanted to fall in love, so please, find a nice guy, or girl, that will love you no matter what. And I've always wanted to have a child of my own. One beautiful girl, just like Elina. I know it's not fair of me to ask this of you, but please... do what I couldn't,'. And that was the last thing she said to me. Not the very last, but the last thing she said while we were alone.

“I want to complete her life, but I don't think I can. Not anymore.”

I pause once more, looking to Riley, “She died of leukemia, Riley. I watched her die because she didn't want the treatments.” I stop calling Riley out, and head to the next portion of my story.

“My therapist diagnosed me with PTSD. Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. I would relive my aunt's death, mainly through nightmares. I couldn't see anything past what was before me. Death, to me everything ended in death.

“And then, my mom had to get a new job.” I pause, and look at Zack. He smiles at me, calming me down and encouraging me to go on. This isn't even the worst part of the story, and I'm already having troubles, “She began... selling her body for money,” I put it in an easier way than I did with Zack.

Zack puts his hand over mind, squeezing it while I debate how to start the next portion. I squeeze back, more to assure myself that he won't let go.

My phone rings the chorus of 'I Don't Love You' by My Chemical Romance. My favorite song by them.

I look down at the caller ID, and suck in a breath. It's someone I haven't really talked to since I was fourteen, I don't know why I transferred his number into my new phone. I was expecting my mother, so I don't know why I even bothered to check. No one else would really call me, they're all on this tour.

It's Mr. Tomas, my old guitar teacher. I'm seriously curious about this, I wonder what he wants.

“Are you going to take that?” Zack asks, looking down at me, my phone in my hand, staring vacantly at the screen.

“I think I should,” I answer, clicking the green button on the side.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Elina? Is that you?” he asks.

“Yeah, Mr. Tomas. It's me,”

“How have you been?”

I'm sure he remembers the old me. I don't even remember what I was like back then. I was probably the carefree, stupid little girl of my past. The innocent one. The one who had her whole life ahead of her, not yet ripped away. I think I was even good at school then.

“I've been doing... Well, not too good.” I answer honestly. That's the thing about Mr. Tomas, no matter how much you wanted to, you just couldn't lie to him.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” I get up from my spot on the floor, and close the door behind me. It's kind of awkward to have everyone being silent all around me, “What have you been up to? Still playing guitar?”

I smile, “Yeah, actually. I'm on tour with my band right now,”

“Really?” he asks, “What are you called?”

“You First,” as I tell him about them, I'm sure I sound really animated. It may not seem like it, but this band is the most important thing in the world to me. Just another one of those things I take for granted.

“Dalton?” he chuckles, “Yeah, I remember him. He's hard to forget,”

I nod, “Yeah, he is. Then, we have Holland. I love her to death. We don't really talk all that much, since she's so secretive, but I look up to her, like a big sister,”

“She sounds great,”

I agree, mention she was the girl that I was working with at the ice cream shop, and move onto Calvin, “Calvin is like an annoying older brother. He gets in my hair, but is really sweet sometimes. His little brother, RJ is our techie. He was in my math class. I really like him, but he's more of a best friend, I can't really see him as a brother,” I admit.

“How did you meet them?”

“At a concert,” I shrug, “And Ross. He's our manager,” I start, “He's scary sometimes, but only when he has to make us do stuff. Kind of like a threat, I guess. He's like our mom, and our dad combined. Mainly mom, though, since he cares, but disciplines, too.”

“So... what about your bassist,” he asks, following my story and realized I didn't rattle on about a bass player yet.

“That's Riley,” I answer, “She's super nice. Sometimes I feel bad, because she does all these nice things for me, and the band, but I don't do anything in return. I know she doesn't expect it, and probably wouldn't accept if I did offer something, but I kind of feel like... I could do better, y'know?”

I can practically see him nodding in understanding over the phone, “There's a lot of those people in this world,” he says, voice full of wisdom and knowledge, “Whether they are better than you at something, or are a better person, there's always someone who will make you question your abilities. Don't let them get to you, because that's not their intention. Their intention is to be the best they can be, not set the standard for someone else. Just try to do the best you can, and just appreciate the little things people do for you,”

That little speech really struck a chord in me. I don't know why, but I know that I'll have to remember that someday, just not today.

“Thanks, Mr. Tomas,” I say.

“I should let you go, I bet you have things to take care of, Miss Rockstar,” he smiles, saying a final goodbye.

He's right. I do have a lot to take care of, the people I left hanging in the back room being the main priority.

With new found confidence and assurance of myself, I open the door to the backroom, ready to tell them everything.

“Who was that?” Dalton asks me.

“Mr. Tomas, my old guitar teacher,” I reply. Maybe there will be a good thing when I get home after all.

“I remember him!” he exclaims, “He's really nice,”

“Yeah,” I agree, a smile plastered on my face.

I sit beside Zack, who gives me a reassuring smile, “Do you want to say the rest?”

I chew my bottom lip. I'm sure they wouldn't be too upset if I decided not to. But, I know that it's better for me to fess up, and admit all of my past.

“Well,” I start, “During the Halloween party, I went on a walk. I know it wasn't very smart of me to go into the bad part of the city, but I did anyway. I was walking past an alleyway, and... um... some guy came up to me, and long story short, he raped me.”

I didn't think it possible, but the room got even more silent. I continue, not close to being done, “And, when he was done, he said he paid someone to have sex with me, and it turned out that that someone was my mother. I had nightmares, about times before that.

“When my mom's pimp lived with us. He raped me, taped it, and sold it to others. My mom got all the money. Then he sold me to his 'clients' and again, my mom got the money.

“And uh... He got Erin, too. Sometimes he would make us... together,” I can feel the tears pricking at my eyes. Up until now, it had never been said out loud. Saying it makes it real. Making it real is much different than just pretending it never happened, “The main reason I left on that tour was to get away. I should have brought Erin with us, to let her get away, too.”

Suddenly, I remember why she wasn't a techie on our tour. She refused to go with us, “I'll just get in the way,” she said, “Just, go without me. I'll be fine here,”

I tried to reason with her, to say that she'll go crazy alone. But, she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, “We've got to learn how to survive without each other, Li-Li. What will happen if we grow to be adults, and it will be out first time apart? Twins are never alone, but you have to learn how to go on without me,”

Even back then, we were still pretending it wasn't true. Erin was still pretending that she wasn't on the verge of suicide, and I was pretending that somehow, it would just stop when I left. Make-believe kills a lot of things.

“He said,” I clear my throat, “that everyone would be happy if we did. And didn't we want to make others happy? He said that twin's love is the purest, most innocent love out there. And that everyone wanted to see it in action. It was the most beautiful, natural thing, he said.

“I knew it was wrong, but I was afraid of what he would do if I didn't go along with it. I knew he was a sick, sick man, but he was also terrifying. One time, when I refused to go along with his plans, he pulled out a knife and put it to my arm, 'If you don't, I'll make sure you never forget,' he pressed the blade into my skin, and started to drag it down.

“I knew the cut would have been deep, so I told him I would. I'm pretty sure it would have killed me. Plus, I didn't want a scar to remind me forever, if I did live through it,”

“Eventually, I learned to just shut everything out, and go to a different world, one where I wasn't where I was, where everything was okay, and I could be happy and run free. I would just lie there, imagining a perfect place, where there was no pain, no misfortune. I think that's why I blocked out the memories.

“They say the human mind has a very strong ability to remember what it wants to remember, and forget what it wants to forget. That's what happened with me. As soon as it was over, I forgot. I was so desperate to forget, that I did,”

“And being raped on Halloween triggered your memories,” Ross mumbles.

I nod, “I met mom after that ordeal, and that's why she didn't show up to the party,” I tell Ross, he was wondering why she didn't come, but I just told him that she couldn't make it, after all.

“Are you...” Dalton starts, “I mean, your relationship with your mom was pretty rocky before but now...”

“I hate her,” I state simply, “She took away all that I had left. My innocence, my self-esteem, my grades even went to shit, and she even took away Erin, eventually. I'm surprised she let Erin be sold, since she was her favorite,”

“Took away Erin?” Calvin asks.

“Well, not really. But, rape's got to be a factor, right?” I ask, “I thought about suicide more than once, but I think it was you guys that kept me going. As long as I could go to practice, I would be okay,” I admit, my cheeks heating.

After a short pause, I fill in with, “I truly believe that all you, RJ, Calvin, Holland, Riley, Ross, Dalton, saved my life. More than once,”

We all share a group hug, even Riley joins in. It's nice, and I welcome the human contact, more than I ever have. My muscles actually relax, and I sink into it. I guess before, my reluctance to share a touch was always at the back of my mind, since I don't remember ever being this comfortable with so many people surrounding me.

Soon, it's over, and Zack hugs me, too, “I'm sorry, but I have to steal Elina for a minute,” he announces.

He pulls me out into the hall, where I took my phone call, “No one will hear us here,” he says, “We couldn't hear you on the phone,” he explains.

“Thank you so much, Zack,” I exclaim, throwing my arms around his neck. His arms wrap around my waist, as I breath in the scent of him.

“Elina,” he says softly, like he usually does when we share a hug, “Will you be my girlfriend?” he asks, fiddling with a strand of my hair.

I take my face out of the crook of him neck to face him, sighing, “I don't know, Zack...”

“Why not?” he looks heartbroken.

“Well, I'm only 17,” I start.

“Age shouldn't matter, just love,” he pleads.

“And this tour is almost over,”

“I can work a long distance relationship,” he assures, “With you, I'm sure that won't be a problem,”

“Why do you want to be my boyfriend?” I ask, honestly waiting for an answer.

“Why wouldn't I want to be your boyfriend?” he returns, “You're gorgeous, such a good singer, and so, so strong. And that's just for starters. I love it when you roll your eyes, I love when you're hugging me and you smile against my neck, I love how you look while you're sleeping, I love--”

My laughter cuts him off, “What's so funny?” he pouts.

“I'm just happy,” I say.

He smiles that gorgeous smile of his, and says, “Then I am, too,”

“I accept,”

“You'll be my girlfriend?” he asks.

Instead of giving a proper answer, I pull him down for a kiss. I short, sweet, first kiss. The best one I could have imagined.