Summer Trouble
Police
"I'm telling you Rachel as a friend. I care about you." I say.
"I don't need your help!"
"Rachel this is an intervention. You have no choice," I hold out my hand and hold back a sob. "I'm sorry."
"W-what do you mean? What did you do Sara?" She backs up against the rusting metal fan behind our highschool.
Her too tight jean shorts with the pocket flaps pulled down low are hardly a protection against the searing grey metal and rust that will likely lead to a tetanus shot. I grab Rachel and pull her away from the rust.
"Stop it! Rach! Look at yourself! You almost burned your legs on that." I motion to the broken edge of the fan of some sort of generator or air conditioner.
She stares down with her mouth gaping and her fingers loose against my arms.
"Rachel please, just do this for me. I want you to get better. This isn't about what anyone else thinks. This is for you first."
Rachel stares at me, her reddening flesh exposed to the sun. Strange cross hatched lines across her back and chest from a week in the sun on vacation wearing $80 bikinis to show off her lack of eating on the Florida beaches.
A car pulls up and an officer comes out.
"Are you the one who called?" The officer looks between us and I glance at Rachel meaningfully.
"Rachel I won't let you harm yourself. Promise you will take care of yourself?"
Rachel looks incredulous and takes a deep breath. She shakes me.
"Sara I'm not suicidal!"
"Ma'am, I'm afraid you will have to come with me. You are acting in a fashion that has made your loved ones and the general community worried for your health and well being." The officer states coming closer to us.
"Rachel please, he will take you somewhere where you can heal."
"Both of you just listen! I'm not trying to kill myself! I'm perfectly happy living! Look at me, look at my arms there's no cuts!" Rachel pulls away and the officer takes a more alert stance in case she tries to make a run for it.
"Rachel I am looking and I see the burns on your skin, your legs, your arms and even on your heart everytime you wear these skin tight clothes on hot days. I can see how the exposure irratates your skin and how you emotionally torture yourself to force yourself to be happy in this state."
"So my clothes are killing me?"
"Yes, and when you learn that the best clothes for hot days are loose and flowy, even covering your head with a cap or something then you will be more safe. Then I know you are listening to your body and what you need. Right now we can't trust you, you're going around wearing anything you see on others and you're so uncomfortable. Just be yourself and stay alive."
The officer pulls us apart and the tears burn my eyes. Rachel watches me from the back of the car. Her innocent blue eyes blurring and her favourite mascara smudges down her tightly burned cheeks and her hand meekly rising in a wave goodbye.
The hospital logo on the car flashes against the flash of sun as she is driven away.
"I don't need your help!"
"Rachel this is an intervention. You have no choice," I hold out my hand and hold back a sob. "I'm sorry."
"W-what do you mean? What did you do Sara?" She backs up against the rusting metal fan behind our highschool.
Her too tight jean shorts with the pocket flaps pulled down low are hardly a protection against the searing grey metal and rust that will likely lead to a tetanus shot. I grab Rachel and pull her away from the rust.
"Stop it! Rach! Look at yourself! You almost burned your legs on that." I motion to the broken edge of the fan of some sort of generator or air conditioner.
She stares down with her mouth gaping and her fingers loose against my arms.
"Rachel please, just do this for me. I want you to get better. This isn't about what anyone else thinks. This is for you first."
Rachel stares at me, her reddening flesh exposed to the sun. Strange cross hatched lines across her back and chest from a week in the sun on vacation wearing $80 bikinis to show off her lack of eating on the Florida beaches.
A car pulls up and an officer comes out.
"Are you the one who called?" The officer looks between us and I glance at Rachel meaningfully.
"Rachel I won't let you harm yourself. Promise you will take care of yourself?"
Rachel looks incredulous and takes a deep breath. She shakes me.
"Sara I'm not suicidal!"
"Ma'am, I'm afraid you will have to come with me. You are acting in a fashion that has made your loved ones and the general community worried for your health and well being." The officer states coming closer to us.
"Rachel please, he will take you somewhere where you can heal."
"Both of you just listen! I'm not trying to kill myself! I'm perfectly happy living! Look at me, look at my arms there's no cuts!" Rachel pulls away and the officer takes a more alert stance in case she tries to make a run for it.
"Rachel I am looking and I see the burns on your skin, your legs, your arms and even on your heart everytime you wear these skin tight clothes on hot days. I can see how the exposure irratates your skin and how you emotionally torture yourself to force yourself to be happy in this state."
"So my clothes are killing me?"
"Yes, and when you learn that the best clothes for hot days are loose and flowy, even covering your head with a cap or something then you will be more safe. Then I know you are listening to your body and what you need. Right now we can't trust you, you're going around wearing anything you see on others and you're so uncomfortable. Just be yourself and stay alive."
The officer pulls us apart and the tears burn my eyes. Rachel watches me from the back of the car. Her innocent blue eyes blurring and her favourite mascara smudges down her tightly burned cheeks and her hand meekly rising in a wave goodbye.
The hospital logo on the car flashes against the flash of sun as she is driven away.