Status: Complete
What You Don't Know
Chapter Nine: Gracie
"Ty?" I ask for him. He's sitting on the recliner with a quilt and two pillows behind his back watching TV. His plain grey tee shows off his muscles, but his school hockey sweats are hidden under the blankets. So, I can't peek. He looks over to me on the couch. "Yeah?" he answers. "Why me? I'm the girl tried to commit. I'm the crazy girl...according to most people at school. Why would you want me?" I interrogate him a bit. "Well," he starts, "I don't see you that way. I never even heard the real story. I never understood why people gave you hell. You never deserved it. You always helped people. I wish people other than just Brettly would have helped you."
"Brettly gave up so much for me. Scouts had started looking at him that year. He stopped playing hockey for me. I felt so guilty for such a long time."
"I know you would feel guilty, but you shouldn't have. The scouts are after him again. He's good, really good...Gracie, what was going through you mind when you attempted?"
I force myself to actually look at him and sigh. "You don't have to tell me. I'm sorry," he says shyly.
"No, it's okay. Look...my mom gave me the pillow case that had my diary in it," I take it out of my pillowcase and flip through the pages until I find the one I want, "Here. Read this. I wrote this the night I attempt to commit suicide. I wrote this two years ago on that night. I'm sorry if it scares you." I stand up and bring it over to him.
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Wednesday, April 19, 2010
Dear Diary,
I'm done tonight. My life is done tonight. I can't take it anymore. I can't take anything anymore. I can't stop crying. I'm messing up the pages. I'm sorry. I fuck up everything. I have the Vicodin ready. It's next to me in the bathroom. I wonder what it will be like to die. I haven't really thought about that until now because it's too frightful. I just want to be at peace and be happy for once in my life. I left my parents, Brettly, Shelley, and Liesa a note. A single note for all of them with specific paragraphs for each of them. I love them so much. I'm so sorry...for the pain I'm going to inflict on them. I know I'll leave huge holes in their hearts. I'm so so sorry. I'm crying so much right now, but I need people to know what the last moments of my life were like. I want the people who made my life hell to feel what I felt on the night I killed myself. I'm in so much pain. Everyone hates me. Everyone calls me trash, ugly, fat, a dyke, a whore, a slut. What did I do to deserve this? Why is everyone doing this to me? I didn't do anything. I'm still a virgin. I've only kissed one guy. Why did he spread a room about me? Why did he say we fucked and that I gave him an STD? I only KISSED him. Why did he do that to me? I've only ever helped people. That's all I ever do, and I get nothing in return ever. Actually, I do. I get shit from everybody in return when I all I ever was is nice to them. I think it's almost my time. I think it's time that I pray to God, Jesus, and Mary, so they'll take me in peace.
Okay, I just want to say again how sorry I am that it has to end this way. I love the previous people I mentioned directly so much. I...I'm sorry. I just swallowed five Vicodins. I don't know if that will do it, but I just called 911 too. I want them to find me first not my parents or Brettly. I'm scared. I'm crying so much even more than I had before. It's getting so hard to breathe. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm s
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Ty is in tears as the entry ends in an illegible scribble off the page from when the Vicodin took over. "I had...I had no idea you were in so much pain. I'm sorry," he cries into hands. I never thought I'd ever see him cry. I take the diary and put it on the couch. "Come here," he whispers. I go over to him, and he pulls me into his lap. He holds me there until we fall asleep. I wake up a few hours later in the same position. I re-position myself so I don't cut off circulation to his right arm. He shifts with me. I put my head on his shoulder. We both fall back into dreamland in each other's arms.
"Brettly gave up so much for me. Scouts had started looking at him that year. He stopped playing hockey for me. I felt so guilty for such a long time."
"I know you would feel guilty, but you shouldn't have. The scouts are after him again. He's good, really good...Gracie, what was going through you mind when you attempted?"
I force myself to actually look at him and sigh. "You don't have to tell me. I'm sorry," he says shyly.
"No, it's okay. Look...my mom gave me the pillow case that had my diary in it," I take it out of my pillowcase and flip through the pages until I find the one I want, "Here. Read this. I wrote this the night I attempt to commit suicide. I wrote this two years ago on that night. I'm sorry if it scares you." I stand up and bring it over to him.
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Wednesday, April 19, 2010
Dear Diary,
I'm done tonight. My life is done tonight. I can't take it anymore. I can't take anything anymore. I can't stop crying. I'm messing up the pages. I'm sorry. I fuck up everything. I have the Vicodin ready. It's next to me in the bathroom. I wonder what it will be like to die. I haven't really thought about that until now because it's too frightful. I just want to be at peace and be happy for once in my life. I left my parents, Brettly, Shelley, and Liesa a note. A single note for all of them with specific paragraphs for each of them. I love them so much. I'm so sorry...for the pain I'm going to inflict on them. I know I'll leave huge holes in their hearts. I'm so so sorry. I'm crying so much right now, but I need people to know what the last moments of my life were like. I want the people who made my life hell to feel what I felt on the night I killed myself. I'm in so much pain. Everyone hates me. Everyone calls me trash, ugly, fat, a dyke, a whore, a slut. What did I do to deserve this? Why is everyone doing this to me? I didn't do anything. I'm still a virgin. I've only kissed one guy. Why did he spread a room about me? Why did he say we fucked and that I gave him an STD? I only KISSED him. Why did he do that to me? I've only ever helped people. That's all I ever do, and I get nothing in return ever. Actually, I do. I get shit from everybody in return when I all I ever was is nice to them. I think it's almost my time. I think it's time that I pray to God, Jesus, and Mary, so they'll take me in peace.
Okay, I just want to say again how sorry I am that it has to end this way. I love the previous people I mentioned directly so much. I...I'm sorry. I just swallowed five Vicodins. I don't know if that will do it, but I just called 911 too. I want them to find me first not my parents or Brettly. I'm scared. I'm crying so much even more than I had before. It's getting so hard to breathe. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm s
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Ty is in tears as the entry ends in an illegible scribble off the page from when the Vicodin took over. "I had...I had no idea you were in so much pain. I'm sorry," he cries into hands. I never thought I'd ever see him cry. I take the diary and put it on the couch. "Come here," he whispers. I go over to him, and he pulls me into his lap. He holds me there until we fall asleep. I wake up a few hours later in the same position. I re-position myself so I don't cut off circulation to his right arm. He shifts with me. I put my head on his shoulder. We both fall back into dreamland in each other's arms.
♠ ♠ ♠
I don't know where these chapter ideas are coming from. The next one will focus more on what's gone on in Ty's life. I cried while making this. I hope feel as emotional as I did and like it as much as I do. Questions? Comments? Emotions? Leave 'em for me. :)