Sarah
I'm Not Crazy.
"I'm not crazy," I say once more. Hannah bites her lip, and Kale nods. We're sitting out in the courtyard, in the grass. The air carries the neighbor's lemon trees' smell over. The sun burns a little, but it's better than the cold inside.
"I know, Sarah. I know." Kale repeats. I wrap my arms around myself, curling up, closing in.
"I don't have voices in my head. I am not crazy." My voice rises to a shrill note; Kale's hand flies to rest on my arm.
"Sarah. Stop it. I know. You're not crazy. You're not." He pulls me close, holds me in his arms as my heartbeat returns to normal. Kale shields me from the sun for this brief moment. I smile and I can smell his freshly-laundered shirt.
"Sarah?" a voice interrupts. I look up to see Marie with a stranger in tow. "This young man is here to see you. Why don't you come inside and chat with him?" I shake my head. No. No inside. It smells too clean.
"I want to stay outside. It smells like lemonade and summer, and I like it."
"Don't you want to have a private conversation with your guest, Sarah?" I shake my head again.
"I want to sit outside with my friends." Marie seems to give up, and she looks at the stranger, who nods at her. He sits down beside me and takes my hand in his. He is not a stranger anymore. He is Max. I say his name softly, repeat it a few times. "Max, Max, Max." Dozens of beer bottles, empty, full, blurred vision, slurred speech. Max frowns.
"Roxy, I don't like this-" A full bottle of aspirin, now empty, days lost, forgotten, wasted.
"Roxy, this isn't you. It was an accident-" C'mon, Roxy. It won't hurt a bit, I promise.
"You need to come home. You're not crazy." Worthless slut, guilt, anger, It hurts, it hurts, you're hurting me, stop it.
"I love you, Roxy." Take that back, you'll regret this, blood everywhere… And I can smell the dirt, the sweat, the bile coming up again, the hate, the malice. I can feel dirty fingers clawing at my arms, forcing me down. And I can't see, can't form words, there is a hand over my mouth, the same dirty fingers now shoving my head into the ground.
I scream.
Max's hands are on my shoulders; he's shaking me, yelling at me. Leah is watching with inquisitive, uncaring eyes.
And then Kale reacts. He shoves the stranger off me and pulls me again to safety. Bruce is back again, and this time it's my visitor he's "escorting" off the premises.
"I'm not crazy, Kale. I'm not."
"I know, Sarah. I know." Kale repeats. I wrap my arms around myself, curling up, closing in.
"I don't have voices in my head. I am not crazy." My voice rises to a shrill note; Kale's hand flies to rest on my arm.
"Sarah. Stop it. I know. You're not crazy. You're not." He pulls me close, holds me in his arms as my heartbeat returns to normal. Kale shields me from the sun for this brief moment. I smile and I can smell his freshly-laundered shirt.
"Sarah?" a voice interrupts. I look up to see Marie with a stranger in tow. "This young man is here to see you. Why don't you come inside and chat with him?" I shake my head. No. No inside. It smells too clean.
"I want to stay outside. It smells like lemonade and summer, and I like it."
"Don't you want to have a private conversation with your guest, Sarah?" I shake my head again.
"I want to sit outside with my friends." Marie seems to give up, and she looks at the stranger, who nods at her. He sits down beside me and takes my hand in his. He is not a stranger anymore. He is Max. I say his name softly, repeat it a few times. "Max, Max, Max." Dozens of beer bottles, empty, full, blurred vision, slurred speech. Max frowns.
"Roxy, I don't like this-" A full bottle of aspirin, now empty, days lost, forgotten, wasted.
"Roxy, this isn't you. It was an accident-" C'mon, Roxy. It won't hurt a bit, I promise.
"You need to come home. You're not crazy." Worthless slut, guilt, anger, It hurts, it hurts, you're hurting me, stop it.
"I love you, Roxy." Take that back, you'll regret this, blood everywhere… And I can smell the dirt, the sweat, the bile coming up again, the hate, the malice. I can feel dirty fingers clawing at my arms, forcing me down. And I can't see, can't form words, there is a hand over my mouth, the same dirty fingers now shoving my head into the ground.
I scream.
Max's hands are on my shoulders; he's shaking me, yelling at me. Leah is watching with inquisitive, uncaring eyes.
And then Kale reacts. He shoves the stranger off me and pulls me again to safety. Bruce is back again, and this time it's my visitor he's "escorting" off the premises.
"I'm not crazy, Kale. I'm not."