Falling Out of Line

The days following my release from the hospital were putting me on edge.

I didn't go back to school right away. I didn't really make an attempt to go back, but nobody said anything when I wasn't getting ready. My parents weren't talking to me, but suddenly, they were at home all the time. I'm not even sure if they're still going to work.

My sisters were still going to school, but now instead of ignoring me as soon as they got home, they were on a shift schedule to come check on me every hour, on the hour. I'd always hear them arguing in the hallway about whose turn it was to come see me, but then one of them would come in and ask me how I was doing - a stupid question really. I know they didn't care how I was feeling anyway.

Carrie wouldn't say much other than asking me how I was, and I'd usually just grunt or not say anything. Then she'd sit on the edge of the bed and read a book out loud to me. She visits the least - usually only before bedtime. Lori would spend most of the time chattering about anything, which is weird because even though she loves to talk, she hates talking to me. Our conversations are still just as one-sided as they've always been. Then there's Addie. I don't think she understands what's going on since she's so young, but she knows that I'm sad about something, so she keeps bringing me her stuffed animals and piling them in my bed. They're just getting in the way.

It's my fifth day at home and I haven't left my room at all. It's around 2pm I think - the girls aren't home yet, and the maid keeps pacing in front of my door every once in a while to check on me. She only does that until my sisters get home.

It's crazy how much attention people are paying me now, but they still aren't talking to me or asking why I did it. Nothing's really changed.

Tina, the maid, came in and asked if I was hungry. I didn't say anything. I haven't actually spoken a word since the day I cut. She left, and a little while later came back with a tray of food and set it on my bedside table then left again. I'm not sure if I'm hungry or not. I'm not intentionally starving myself, I just can't really force myself to eat. I don't feel like it.

Two hours of the day dissolved, and it was once again time for a visit from one of my sisters. Addie quietly came in and stared at me. I stared back at her. After a minute, she reached in her backpack and pulled out a stuffed pink puppy and set it on my bed.

"I couldn't decide whether to give you the pink puppy or the purple hippo, but you look really gray, so I figure you could use a brighter color."

I just stared at her as she moved the dog to my lap and sat down in the middle of the bed.

"Are you gonna go back to school?" She asked. I just shrugged. "Mommy and Daddy were talking about making you go back to school, but they said it might be a bad idea because you might get worse." She dug around in her backpack again and pulled out a piece of paper that had been colored with crayons and handed it to me. "I drew this for you."

I took it from her and looked at it. Written very heavily at the top in blue crayon, it said "GET WELL SOON LEWIS." Her S's were written backwards and her W's looked like two V's with a tiny gap in the middle. Below that was a drawing of a smiling boy with what I guess was a thermometer sticking out of it's mouth. I guess there must have been some trouble explaining to Addie what was wrong with me, so they just told her I was sick. For some reason, she also drew a bunch of blue scribbles all over the page.

My throat ached from not being used in days, but... "What are these?" I croaked as I pointed to the blue blobs.

"They're your sad feelings. My teacher said that sometimes people get so sad that they can't be happy again for a really long time, and doing things that used to make them happy doesn't work anymore, so they need help to be happy again."

"But... why are my sad feelings all over the place?"

She shifted on the bed and threw her arms out. "Because they're being shoved away from you!"

"But how?"

"By the new happy things."

"What new happy things?"

She crawled to my side and scooped up as many stuffed animals as she could in her arms. "These weren't things that made you happy before, but they make me happy, so maybe new happy things could replace the old ones for you."

I smiled and brought her in for a hug, squishing the stuffed animals between us. "Thank you, Addie." I let her go.

She grinned. I looked at the animals on the bed. "Which one's your favorite?"

She looked at the bed and immediately picked up a yellow monster with rainbow arms and legs. "This one. She makes me the happiest."

"And why is that?"

She leaned in real close and whispered to me, the way children do when they think they have the biggest top secret in the world to tell you. "She can shoot rainbows from her arms, and the rainbows wrap around mean bullies and squeeze them until they pop like a balloon!"

My innocent little sister is starting to scare me.

"Uh... that's cool."

She grinned, which normally would be fine but looked a little but maniacal right now.

"Which one is your favorite?" she asked me.

I lazily shifted through the mountain of stuffed animals she had left on my bed. "This one?" I held up a blue giraffe, unsure if that was a good answer.

She frowned. "Kenny? He doesn't know how to play well with others. And between you and me," she leaned in close again and whispered, "he's got an attitude problem."

I held back, laughter. What 7-year-old thinks like this?

"Well, you might have an attitude too if you had such a long neck. I bet he gets teased all the time for it."

"Well you have a long body but you're not whining about it."

She did have a point. I've never been bullied for being tall or skinny. I've been bullied for everything else, but she had a point here.

"So you don't think... what's his name-"

"Kenny."

"You don't think Kenny deserves to feel upset because he's not happy with how he looks?"

"I think it's silly to be sad 'cause you don't like how you look. Like mommy said, you were born that way and only a ton of money, makeup, and magic can make you look different. But then you wouldn't look like yourself and nobody would recognize you! Then you might get left at the park because nobody recognized you and then you'd have to walk all the home by yourself."

Even though I was seriously beginning to question whether I should call child services on what my parents are doing to my baby sister, I had to admit she was making a lot more sense then any guidance counselor I've ever talked to. Addie was wise beyond her years.

"Do you like how you look?"

"Of course! I look like a dragon princess. Why wouldn't I like that?"

"A dragon princess? Hmm... no, you're right. I totally see it. You do look exactly like a dragon princess. I was thinking you were maybe a unicorn princess but no, dragon is definitely it."

"Dragons can eat unicorns. I wouldn't want to be a unicorn."

"But unicorns are magical."

"Yeah but have you ever seen one?"

"No, but have you ever seen a dragon?"

"All the time! Dragons are in the TV, in my story books, in Chinese Town-"

"China Town," I corrected her.

"-and Tommy Fischer got to be a dragon for Halloween even though he was already a dinosaur last year." she grumbled.

"Oh that's right, you don't like Tommy Fischer."

She grabbed her backpack and scowled. "Tommy Fischer is a crayon breaker and a doody-head!" She stuck out her tongue and stomped her little feet out of my room.

I chuckled to myself as she left. Addie's a weird kid, but I love her. She's the least annoying of all my sisters, and I used to spoil her rotten before she started school. Our parents weren't exactly hands-on, so I always played with Addie when nanny wasn't there. When high school started to shit all over my life, I stopped paying attention to her. I was busy with my own stuff. Then Lori and Carrie decided that Addie was old enough to be argued with, my family's favorite past time, and trying to talk to either of them turned into a suicide mission. I'm still shaking from the last time Lori chewed into me. I don't want Addie to turn into that kind of person, like the rest of my family.

I decided that today I would actually make it farther than the bathroom. I flopped out of bed and practically had to hold myself up against the wall because my legs hadn't really been used in days. I managed to make it down the stairs and into the kitchen without dying. My dad had been talking to my mom in front of the stove, but they both stopped and stared at me when they saw me in the doorway. My mom looked like she had seen a ghost. I chewed my lip, suddenly regretting leaving my room. This is the most attention they've paid me in months.

My dad was the first to speak. "Glad to see you out of bed, Lewis."

I tried to clear my throat while I thought of what to say, but it just came out as a grunt.

"A-Are you hungry?" my mom asked.

"No, Tina brought me lunch." I told her, even though I knew and she probably knew that I didn't really eat it, so much as pick at it. "I'm just here for some water."

"Oh, okay."

It grew quiet again as I reached for a glass and then headed to the sink. I filled up my cup and turned back to face my parents. They were still staring at me. This was so awkward. I didn't know what to say to them. Most of the time when my parents talk to me, they're asking me to do something or scolding me for something I didn't do, even if it's something out of my control like having to buy a new Spanish textbook because the jocks threw mine in the toilets again, or not helping Lori rehearse for her play audition even though I didn't even know she was auditioning for a play and I have no acting experience at all. I knew that this time, they weren't sure what to say either and they were trying to tread lightly. It didn't fit them. My parents are never careful about what they say.

I decide to break the extremely awkward silence. "I... I think I'm going to go back to school soon."

"Oh? How soon?" My mom asked.

"Like tomorrow I guess." I answered.

"You've missed a lot of school. Do you think you'll be able to catch up in all your classes?"

"Probably. I'll spend my time doing make-up work I guess."

"Are... are you sure that you want to go back there? To Cranbrook? It's not too late in the year to transfer."

I thought about it. Sure, Cranbrook was full of assholes, but it's where I met Naran... and Tyler. And Cambree and Jacob. That was already more friends than I made at my last school. And let's face it, no matter where I go, my problems are still going to follow me. I'm still going to be gay, I'm still going to be an outcast, I'm still going to get bullied, I'm still going to be unhappy with myself. Besides, if I transfer now, it'll just make me look weak and add to all the gossip. Last year, a kid shit his pants during his lead role in the play. He transferred a week later and kids are still talking about it. If people are going to talk about me, I'd rather that they say it to my face.

"I can handle the rest of the year at least."

"Are you sure? Maybe we could home school you."

"One of us would have to quit our jobs to do that, Margaret." My dad finally spoke up.

"We won't exactly starve to death if we do." She snapped at him.

"I just don't think that we should make any drastic changes when we still have the girls to think about. What if they're having trouble at school, too? You want to pull them all out?"

My dad didn't always think before he spoke. It wasn't that he was completely heartless, he just didn't know how to express himself without offending anyone. If you met my grandparents, you would understand. I was used to this. What I wasn't used to was what my mother did next. She slapped my dad across the cheek. I stared with wide eyes as she criticized my father.

"Don't be a smart ass, Jack. It's not exactly a drastic change for you to go from sitting on your ass all day at work to sitting on your ass all day at home. Lewis stayed in bed all week and still managed to make it downstairs to get his own glass of water without paging his secretary to do it for him."

Whoa. This was fucking awkward. I don't think I've ever seen my parents really fight before. Is this because of me?

"Um," I spoke up. They both looked at me. "I can stay at Cranbrook. Really, I'll be fine."

My mom started to speak, "But what about-"

"I'm already behind on my classes. It'll be too difficult to catch up if I transfer so far into the semester. And besides, Cranbrook is close to home and I still have friends here. It'll be more complicated to switch things up right now. I want to stay at Cranbrook for now. And if I change my mind and can't handle it, then we can talk about me transferring."

I really just wanted to end the fighting and get out of the kitchen as soon as possible.

My mom still looked worried, a foreign expression for her. "Well, alright. But if you get there and can't make it through the day, you can call the house and ask Tina to come take you home."

My mom probably didn't realize that maids can't legally take someone else's kid out of school, but I just said okay and ran back upstairs to avoid another awkward situation.

**

It took me an hour to get dressed the next morning. The cuts on my arms were glaring at me. Even when I put on a hoodie, I was still painfully aware of what lied underneath my sleeves. I thought about the scars on my legs too, but there was no chance of anyone seeing those under my jeans. No matter what I wear, I just know the gossip at school will be about my little trip to the hospital. I'll go from fag to emo fag. Maybe going back to school wasn't such a good idea.

There was a knock at my door. I looked up as Lori softly pushed the door open. She didn't step into my room but stayed in the hallway.

"Hey. Mom wanted me to ask if you wanted a ride to school."

My face wrinkled in confusion. "Since when does mom drive any of us to school? Shouldn't she be at work by now?"

"Not mom, me. She wants me to drive you to school."

I still looked at her funny. "Lor, you're barely 16. Do you even have a learner's permit yet? Besides, I'm older than you. If I wanted to, I could drive myself."

She glared at me. "I was just trying to be nice."

"Thanks anyway." I figured she would leave in a huff after that. It was easy to anger her, but she wasn't going to fight with me so early in the morning. It would ruin the mood for the rest of her otherwise perfect day.

I took off my hoodie and threw it in the growing pile of rejected clothes on the floor. I heard a gasp. I turned back to the doorway and saw Lori still standing there, staring at my arms. She hadn't seen them before.

She looked at me and then to the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Did you want me to help you cover it up?" she asked.

Lori never offers to help me. With anything. At all.

"You aren't doing this out of pity, are you?"

"No, I just... I just thought you might not want people to see it."

I looked at my grotesque reflection in the mirror. I had gotten a little skinnier - I don't even know how it's that noticeable after just a week or so. I was still extremely pale and I had bags under my eyes. And then of course there were the scars. I looked like I had actually died.

"I tried wearing long sleeves but it didn't feel right." I tell her truthfully.

"I can cover it with makeup."

I frowned. "Why would I want to wear makeup? I know I'm gay, but I'm not a chick."

She rolled her eyes while sighing and shifting her weight to her right leg, a Lori trademark reaction. "It's foundation and concealer. It's not like I'm rubbing lipstick on your arms."

I sighed. "If you think it'll work."

She left and came back with her arsenal of makeup. Did she have a freaking drugstore in her room or something? Why does she even own eight things of mascara? I'm starting to wonder what my sister really looks like...

"Normally, you'd be close to my skin tone. But you're so pale," she paused, tapping a finger to her chin. She dug around in her endless bag of makeup and pulled out a bottle. "You need to tan."

"What? I don't have time to tan before school."

She rolled her eyes again. "It's self-tanning cream. No sun required."

She smeared every visible inch of my skin in that self-tanning lotion or whatever. I felt and probably looked ridiculous, but it smelled like caramel, and I really love the smell of caramel. I let her work her magic, covering up the bags under my eyes, smearing this cream and that on my arms and dusting me with powder. I felt like a clown.

When she was done painting me with makeup, she went back over to my closet and looked back at me. "Why can't you just wear that ugly blazer uniform to school? Aren't you supposed to wear it anyway?"

"Mom couldn't get all the stains or the smell out of it after I got thrown in the dumpster. I'm supposed to go to the main office and pay for a new one when I get to school."

"Oh. Well in that case," she turned back to the closet and started adding to the already medium-sized pile on the floor. I felt like if I touched anything, half my skin would smudge, so I just ducked out of the way and let her tear apart my closet and further mess up my room until she came out with a white shirt with red 3/4 sleeves.

"Put this on," she handed it to me.

I started peeling my other shirt off. "But won't this show my arms?"

"That's the point. If you completely hide your arms, it'll only draw more attention to them. Show people that you have nothing to hide. It's less suspicious that way. And anyway, I couldn't blend the makeup well on your upper arms, so you can't wear a t-shirt."

I followed her weird advice and put on the shirt while she handed me a navy jacket that was close to the color of my blazer. I had put on a pair of jeans that were a little too small on me but were navy. I put on a red tie and slipped into my sneakers. I knew I still might get in trouble for being out of uniform, but it's not exactly my fault that I was thrown in the dumpster.

"There you go. Perfect."

I looked at myself in the mirror. Aside from the fact that I was three shades darker than I normally am, I didn't look too bad. Even in my casual version of my school uniform, I still looked pretty good. I would still try to avoid taking off my jacket at any point though.

"I should do this for a living." Lori said while admiring her work.

"Thanks Lori," I smiled at her. She smiled back, then surprised me with a hug. I didn't know what to do at first, so I awkwardly stood there with my arms mushed at my sides for a minute before wrapping my arms around my sister. We hugged for what felt like a long time. Finally she let go and looked at me. Her eyes were shining and I think she was trying not to cry.

"Be careful at school today, okay?"

"Y-yeah. I will." I nodded. She gave a small smile and left the room.

After Lori left, I grabbed my backpack and my phone and headed downstairs to grab breakfast. I heard something crash and shatter, followed by a growled "Damn it!" I ran into the kitchen and saw Carrie bent down on the floor, trying to pick up the pieces of a broken plate. She noticed me come in and stood up.

"I... I tried to make you breakfast."

I walked over to her and bent down to pick up more pieces of the plate.

"Why? You can't even make yourself toast."

She bent down to gather the rest of the broken plate. "Mom said you weren't eating, so I tried to make you your favorite."

I looked at her. "You tried to make french toast?"

"Not from scratch. It was from the freezer section. The kind that you microwave. Anyway, I must have cooked it too long, because the plate was too hot and I dropped it."

I looked at the floor. "Then where's the french toast? I only see the plate."

"I think I threw it in the sink before I dropped the plate."

I snorted. "You threw it in the sink?"

"I didn't want to drop it on the floor so I kind of just... reacted."

"Why didn't you set the whole plate in the sink?"

"I wasn't thinking right! The plate was hot! I just reacted!"

I held back my laughter as I picked up a huge piece of the plate. The sharp edge of the piece sliced my finger, causing blood to well up on my skin.

"Ow! Dammit!" I stood up, dropping the other pieces I had already picked up to the floor.

"Oh no, not again." Carrie jumped up and grabbed my hand tightly, squeezing more blood out of my finger.

"Ow! Geez, Carrie, be careful."

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! It's all my fault! I shouldn't have dropped the plate. I'm sorry, I was just trying to do something nice for you but I screwed up and now you're bleeding again!"

"Ah, Carrie calm down. It's just a cut."

"But you already have a bunch of cuts, and you're not supposed to cut anymore, okay?" Her voice cracked as tears welled up in her eyes.

I stared at her, shocked. "Carrie, I-"

"Just stop bleeding now, alright?!" She screamed at me.

"I... I..." I was speechless.

"The doctor said you lost a lot of blood. He said it could get worse if we let you cut again."

"Carrie..." She looked at the ground. "This was an accident. I didn't mean to cut my finger, and it's not your fault."

"But it is my fault. I knew that you were hurting yourself. I didn't understand at first, when I accidentally saw your scars once, but I knew you weren't okay. And then I found your box where you kept the blades. I should've told mom and dad, but I thought you'd be mad at me." She was sobbing now.

I pulled her into the tightest hug, completely forgetting about my bloody finger. She sobbed into my chest as I rubbed her back. After a few minutes, she quieted down but still didn't look up at me.

"Care Bear," my voice was starting to crack a bit too, but I held it together. "It's not your fault. You didn't understand what was going on with me. Honestly, I might have been upset if you had gone to mom and dad, but I would've gotten over it. I really didn't want you or Addie or Lori to find out."

"Why not?" She sniffled. "What if we never found out? What if your friends didn't find you in time?"

My friends? "What do you mean? Who found me?"

She sniffled again. "Naran and Tyler found you in the bathtub. They're the ones that took you to the hospital."

My eyes grew wide. I had no idea that they did that. I just remembered passing out in the tub and waking up in the hospital. I never really wondered who had found me like that.

"Why were they here?"

"I don't know. They came here for you obviously." How could she still have the hint of an attitude in her voice when she was still crying?

I decided to put my questions away later. I would talk to Naran and Tyler at school.

"Carrie, I need you to listen to me. And I mean really listen, okay?" She nodded. "I'm not going to die from accidentally cutting my finger. So don't freak out and start blaming yourself for that. I want you to know that... I didn't mean to take it that far. You were right, I was hurting myself. I thought it was better than trying to deal with my problems. But it wasn't. And now I've hurt you and mom and Lori and Addie and dad, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you guys."

"But why did you do it? Why was hurting yourself better that getting rid of your problems?"

"Because... because I couldn't get rid of my problems. I tried over and over again but they just kept coming back. I was tired. I felt defeated. So, I wanted to take my mind off of what was hurting me, by adding more pain to the problem."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"No, it doesn't. I can't imagine that you'd understand how I felt, and I hope to God that you never do. But just know that... I'm going to stop. Okay? I didn't want to hurt anybody else, and if it's bothering you this much, then I won't do it anymore."

She looked up at me. She had stopped crying but her cheeks were still shiny with tears. "You will? You promise?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat and then nodded. "Yes, I promise."

I mentally kicked myself as I hugged her tight. I shouldn't have promised that when I didn't know if I even could stop. I wasn't addicted to cutting, but I couldn't control when my brain persuades me to do it either. But I can't keep hurting my family like this. All this time, I just assumed that they didn't care about me, that they hated me. My brain has really warped reality for me. I'm not suddenly convinced that we're this big happy family, but my family has shown me more love and support this morning than they have in years. It's a sad truth, but I guess it shows that... if I had done something even more drastic, they would obviously be upset about it. That's something that I really needed to know. I wish I didn't have to find out in such depressing circumstances, but still... I'm glad they care at least a little bit.