Written in Stone

Diana. That’s been my name for seventeen years now. I like it I guess. It’s not the best name in the world, but I could have a completely horrible name like Dorothy; which would be unlikely since in the process of naming me, my mother thought any name other than Diana was a whore’s name. But any way you’re stuck with what you’re named with anyway, right? Well unless you go to court to change it but I don’t see myself going through the hassle of that. Like I’d know what I’d call myself even if I did.

Seventeen years now I’ve of growing up in this ever changing world. Learned how to speak in full sentences and propped my ass up and took my first steps that led to me to begin walking all by myself. Then there was dressing myself on my own and the big stretch from shitting my pants as a ‘baby’ to being a ‘big kid’ and using the potty like Mommy and Daddy. There was becoming a big sister, twice in four years. Perfecting timing for the terrible twos; must have been a hell of a lot of fun for my parents don’t you think? Pretty sure for the most part my parents raised the three of us how they thought to be right so we’d be normal and healthy. By books or by advice or gut feeling I don’t know, but I’m sure they couldn’t have fucked up badly since we’re all still breathing, staying out of trouble, and getting good grades.

Mom said she cried when I starting Kindergarten. I heard most mothers do that. I don’t see the hard part in letting a kid go to school, isn’t that what most parents say they can’t wait for? They kids are the ones that should be crying anyways, next thirteen plus years will be spent doing nothing but learning and planning for the future. A future that might possibly never be earned.

Honestly I don’t think it was all that bad. Not till I got high school anyway. I mean I moved from a big city with one of the best climates of the country to a small town in the middle of the country, where school was still open at negative thirty degrees below zero when I was six. Only to moved back seven years later, but ended up thrown into the in the middle of nowhere with no clue that I’d be dealing with the same temperatures as hell or possibly hell itself.

I had no friends in either places. So nothing changed besides the background. Before the move I had been convinced of a lie by my so called best friend that I wasn’t wanted. The new place scared me. I was an awkward goody two shoes; soft spoken and shy. I actually took me 3 months before I was talking to a person regularly. That one person was labeled as my best friend and I guess could still technically be called that. But it doesn’t feel like that.

In the years I’ve lived in this new place, I feel the same way I felt when I arrived. Despite the huge change in my appearance, tasted in music and view of the world I’ve grown up in. I have changed my shell, getting a new mask to cover up the inside where I’m still the same.
Instead of awkward, I appear happy and optimistic. I’m selling a smile perfectly most times, laughing, running around and having fun with my…friends. There’s a decent amount of people in the group I hang out with. And I think they like me, they call me to hang out and spend time together. At which I usually accept, just for something to do. Keep up the act is what I think it is half the time.

Normal people are like this but it’s genuine. There happy to hang out with their friends and do things to entertain themselves as they to pass the time. Spend weekends out of town or doing something else with the family; getting all excited when their father gives them a gift just cause and having their mother take them shopping to get a new outfit. But I’ve realized that I’m not like a normal person my age, I’m ok with the fact. Truth is on the outside I might seem to care like everyone around me, but on the inside I don’t care if something goes one way or the other. It’s like numb on the inside. I’m not sad, or happy or even angry. It’s like I’m almost empty and things don’t really faze me anymore. I want to care and I like to think that before all the stupid things that had happened I actually did. I hope I did. And I hope they did.

My ‘friends’ I mean. The one’s that I once had traded secrets and memories with in complete confidence but now seem to have been filled with lies and deceit while I’ve drained dry of anything. We still talk but to a point. We spend time together, but only so much.

I only see things as out of habit, because that’s what most of them have become. I only talk to them, because that’s what I did. I only pretend to care about whatever silly little problem they might have because I’ve been expected to give a crap so often. I can fake a smile, without any effort. None of them have noticed. Seventeen years has perfect that or they just never really cared.

That would make you feel depressed wouldn’t it? To know that people you thought of as family and your actually family didn’t give two shits about you at all in all the time you knew them. Well it did upset me at first. I eventually found a way to make myself feel better; slicing the skin on my arms and legs open, watching the blood spill. It wasn’t ever a suicide attempt though. Never. Not once. I’m a coward of death for the moment. But this was what I picked to make me feel better. It awakes the numbness inside the shell forcing it to feel something.

Now I don’t care anymore despite the dirty little habit I’ve gained. Along with it I’ve found something though. They haven’t been there that long but I’ve grown close to them. My younger sister and a boy that was adopted into my family. They sparked a small amount of hope. Not much but enough to keep me from collapsing in on myself. They save what little left I had of myself; it’s what I cling to. Its bitter and confused, but again stuck with what you have.

My sister keeps me clean. I’ve stop everything to keep her; drinking, smoking, and drugs. My fear of disappointment shook me awake of the haze. I nearly lost her, one of the two things keeping me tied down to the real world. The adoptive boy, he’s the other. When it’s just the two of us, he refuses to hear my lies about being so happy when he knows otherwise, while I do the same. We’ve given each other someone that won’t run away after we’ve shown how ugly and broken we really are inside.

I want to be happy to know that maybe somebody could deal with me, but I think I’m too afraid to let myself feel that. Or maybe I just don’t remember how? I could be too tired to try? Ha, here I am seventeen years later and I’m not even sure of the right answer. If I asked anyone they probably couldn’t give me an answer either. I doubt I could ever get an answer for anything that comes to my head about me without seeing a shrink. And even for that to happen I’d have to admit to other people that I’m unstable. I’m not afraid to do it I just don’t see the point in shaking it in everyone’s face that they don’t pay attention. Hear them ask stupid questions and try and change things so they can feel good. Or hearing that I don’t think that they care, in which I will sum up a, ‘of course I don’t. You’re my best friend,’ to save myself from a fight. You can see that they will never been in the wrong.

Sighing out heavily and unevenly, I shook my head placing my face into my hands covering my blank expression, as my thoughts swirled around in my head. Everyone runs around me as I sit on the ground, curled up with my legs pulled up to my chest, my arms resting on my knees, while my back is up against a wall. My hood is pulled over my head hiding me.

We’re all at the park; the entire group is. I forgot for what, but there all laughing and talking happily, while I sit and watch my iPod headphones silencing them out with some metal band, I’ve grown found of in the last few days.

“Hey, Sis.” One of my headphones is pulled from my ears. I turned to see a genuine smile and a pair of warm brown eyes that are as tortured as mine.

I smile slightly taking the headphone from his hand. “Hey, brother.” I mumbled.

“What’s up?” He asked sitting next to me, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie up and sitting in a similar position as me.

“Nothing really.” The words leaving my mouth like a heavy breath, leaning my head back against the wall. I looked over at him, “You?”

He smiled softly. “Just wanting to spend some time with my sissy.” He said moving his arm and putting it over my shoulder giving me a hug. I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. I hated hearing that sometimes; he was just too nice to admit he was checking on me. I laid my head on his shoulder hugged him back, a little tighter then I should have.

“What’s wrong Sis?” He asked whispering into my ear, taking notice right away. He hugged me tightly to keep me from pulling away and trying to hide it; just as I had been doing lately when he asked.

“Nothing.” I said into his shoulder.

He sighed squeezing me and rubbing my back lightly. “Come on Sis, tell me. Please?” He begged slightly. I balled up the fabric of the back his hoodie in my fist gulping as I started to tremble. I lifted my head up and looked up at him playing a smile.

“It’s really nothing.” I said again. He shoot me a tired look that told me there was no way he was ever going to believe that statement. I sniffled looking away from his stare; it made me nervous, like everything I’d been holding back was going to flood from my mouth. “Everything’s fine,” I forced, patting his knee lightly.

He groaned and grabbed my hand. “You know you can talk to me Sissy.” He whispered as someone ran passed us.

I nodded looking back at him and smiling gently. “You the only one I want to talk to.” I whispered honestly. He smiled a bit, his eyes brightening. He grabbed my hand holding it and leaning his head back and looking over at all our 'friends'. I knew he wasn’t going to ask again till later, if he remember. Which I hoped he didn’t; but even if he did he wasn’t one to force it out of me. He told me in the begging ‘You’ll tell me when you’re ready.’ I leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly. “Thank you.” I mumbled laying my head on his shoulder.

My music blared in my one ear, as we sat quietly, taking in the relaxing feel of each other’s presents. Well for me at least, that’s what I was doing. I looked at our hands that were between us, my pale skin against his tan. The scared skin on his arm drew your eyes to it, showing his attempts. My free hand reached over and ran over the scars softly, like I’d done many times before. He tensed up and I looked up at him, seeing sorrowed filled eyes. He had found a way to feel better too before we found each other but he wasn’t a coward. He had the grooves in his skin to show that. I pulled my arms away as the thought hit me for the millionth time. He could have been lost before we ever meet and who knows where I’d be without him. My throat tightened up, I hate thinking about the possibility of not having him or my little sister.

“Diana!” a high voice called, in my ear. The owner of it shaking me hard.

“What Arnold?” I asked looking up at the younger kid, pushing his hands away.

He had the same look on his face that I was used to. I didn’t really have to ask, it was more of just to humor him. The one girl in the group who was more unstable then me used it to get attention. She was my best friend till I got so stressed out from her constant over dramatic, woe is me crap.

“Taylor, is crying.” He said franticly.

I nodded. “Ok, I’ll be there in a moment.” I said shooing him off. He ran off to where ever she was and I sighed.

“When is she not?” I heard, under his breath from beside me. He stood up and quickly held out a hand for me. I gladly accepted and he pulled me up, from the ground. As soon as I stood straight, I hugged him, throwing my arms around his neck and snuggling my face into his shoulder. He hugged me back squeezing me tightly. His scent filled my nose as his arms calmed me more.

Something about his hugs made me feel loved. Like he was trying to show that he cared with his hugs, like he had to prove it each time he saw me. I felt so selfish when I hugged him because I never wanted to stopped, because when we pulled apart I felt sad. I couldn’t believe in that stuff, but he made me want to at least try and hope there could. He had it, so it was out there.

“Diana!” Arnold called again.

Sighing, I pulled away from my brother reluctantly, turning and walking towards Arnold and Taylor. Her face was coated in tears and she was shaking badly. “What’s wrong?” I asked sitting on the bench next to her.

She shook her head, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. “Tay, come on.” I mumbled wrapping an arm around her, trying to seem like I was worried. But really I wasn’t, she’d be fine in about an hour. She’d finish crying and be her hyper bouncing off the wall self once she was done. She just sat there and continued to sniffle. I bit the inside of my cheek and tried to get her to talk to me. Before giving up; I’d given up on the whole wasting my day trying to fix everything to make everything perfect again. “If you need to talk I’m here.” I said just to be nice, rubbing her back softly before walking off and leaving her alone.

I looked around to see my brother and his girlfriend, and there friends laughing. The corner of my lip twitched slightly, pulling my lips into a small smile. He was so lucky to be so happy. I was jealous of that I think. My sister was off with a few of her friends, talking about something.

“Hey, Karen.” I said walking to her side.

“Hey, Di.” She said, sounding a bit annoyed. I knew it was because I had blown up. Before we got to the park I had snapped at her and screamed. Even though I was grateful for her, ever since I quiet everything…no, scratch that, when I started, doing that shirt, I’d become such a horrible person to her. We got along sometimes when I was able to control myself. I don’t even know why I act like that and it’s only to her. Even when we get along I feel like complete shit knowing that I’m a horrible sister to her, when she’s done nothing wrong to me.

“Hey, Diana.” One of her friends said happily. I smiled a bit waving at them. “Happy 17 Birthday.” I tilted my head confused for a moment before sighing. Everyone was at the park because my sister wanted to try and make my birthday a good day for me.

“Thanks.” I said, as I looked down at my feet, my hands balling up into fist, my fingers dinging into my palms. I walked away from them and over to the farthest, empty picnic table at the other end of the park. I was a fucking horrible person to the few people that cared. I sighed reaching out for my thoughts of earlier.

My brother and sister were here but the rest of my family was off doing whatever. My biological little brother and I didn’t get along. We got into fights and he always had a smart ass remark for when I said something. He had to be right about everything and everything was my fault with him. He was so much like my dad. With my dad I couldn’t speak up about anything because it always ends in us screaming, me in tears and him threatening to beat me. The most common words he says to me are ‘Shut the fuck up. You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about stupid.’ When he did beat me, he always tried to pay me off, so he didn’t have to actually apologies. He didn’t really seem to care, for me…or my sister. It was all about with my brother with him. Which is fine with me. My mom was different from them though. She didn’t call me stupid or yell. She just was never there. She locked herself in her room or went to her friends during the week drinking till she was completely shit faced so she didn’t have to deal with the family. And by some miracle she wasn’t hammered she tried to spend time with us. But that has never ended good in any memory I’ve had. Last time she spent time with me and my sister it ended up with us sitting in the dressing room, me and my sister watching her cry her eyes out because my dad gave her no money, and she couldn’t afford to buy us like he could. My sister was heartbroken and tried to comfort her, while I had sat and thought to myself, ‘Does she have how she’s going to kill herself all thought out too?’ It didn’t bother me that she was upset, because I honestly feel that it’s her problem. She can’t stand up to her husband and when I do, I’m a stupid little bitch.

I sighed angrily brushing my hair from my eyes. I wondered if leaving and dropping my entire life will help me fix things. I mean I have two good things I see have any worth in my life; my brother and sister. My friends have changed and we don’t see the same anymore. They’ve lost respect for themselves so have I. Both my best friends are cheaters. Ones doing anything not to be alone and the other spread’s her legs for everyone. All the rest of them much rather lie and say they care but at first chance they’d stab someone in that back. It’s hard to deal with numb or not. I’m tired of the stupidity.

“Sis.” My brother and sister sat down on either side of me. “You ok?”

I shrugged, fiddling my fingers on the table. My sister placed her hand over mine lovingly. My chest grew tight causing my lungs to feel like they were being compressed down. My eyes filled up and I gasped, at the unpleasant feeling in my chest. “I’m sorry.” I gasped as I began to cry.

Quickly the two of them hugged me tightly. “For what?” Karen asked, brushing my hair out of my face.

“That you have to deal with me.” I sobbed, “I’m so sorry. I’m so afraid of what you actually think of me. I feel like I’m going to fuck up and lose the two of you.” I covered my face and hiding my face behind my hands. “I hate myself so much already for that. I feel like such a fake to you.”

“Sissy,” My brother said rubbing my back, “I know how you feel. I’m scared were going to lose you too. It hurts to think about that.”

“No, Di, it’s fucking terrifying to think about you being gone.” She pulled my hands from my face, making me look up at them. “And there’s no bull shit about having to deal with you. We love you.”

“Yeah,” My brother grabbed one of my hands from my sister, “Sis you never do anything wrong.” My eyes look over at Karen, as I felt my heart split. “Well to me. Sis, I’m scared that one day you’re not going to be here anymore.” My heart shattered at the sound of his voice.

“Brother.” Karen said sounding sad.

I looked over at him and my throat closed up. A tear was falling down his cheek. “I don’t want to lose you sis.”

“You two are the only people I can be fucked up around.” I grabbed both their hand, weaving our fingers together. “I want to be there for both of us as long as I can. I don’t know what I did to get some like you two in my life. But I’d thank whoever is in control of my life for giving me you.” They smiled slightly. My lip trembled more. “This scares me though, not knowing when I’m going to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose us.” Karen said wrapping her arms around me.

I shook my head squeezing my eyes closed tight. “You don’t know that.” I croaked the words hurting as I forced them up my throat and out my mouth.

“Yes we do.” My brother said wrapping his arms around my waist and hugging me from behind. He snuggled into my shoulder. “Believe us.”

I slowly nodded hugging them both and crying a bit harder as they cried with me. “I love you guys.” I said, painfully.

“I love you too Sissy.” My brother said.

“I love you too, Di.” Karen said snuggling into my shoulder.

“Always.” They said together. I smiled clinging to them both, feeling a warmness fill my soul. I didn’t care about having anything else in my life. As long as my life lines were never lost I could search for happiness and have hope.