99 Ways to Save a Life

Everything about Erin was nice. Every word out of her mouth was caring and loving. She was the mother you never had, the listening ear you dreamed of at night, the tender encouragement and conversation maker that you wished was there for your whole childhood.

And it made me want to vomit.

“You haven’t been talking much, Sofia,” Erin looked at me with her calm eyes. She’d somehow ended up dragging me into her tiny, little office for some kind of bullshit counseling meeting.

I shrugged indifferently to her statement and glanced around the room. I wasn’t in the mood for this and I would never be in the mood for this. I wanted men. I wanted drugs.

“Sofia, are you listening to me?” Erin asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I yawned, finally drawing my attention back to Erin. “Not really. I won't need whatever you said, anyway.”

“Why do you think that?” her tone was curious and probing. I watched one of her thin eyebrows arch.

“I know what I need, and you and this bullshit,” I gestured to the office and the entire camp, “are not even close,” I spat. I paused and looked down at my hands. Seeing my hands just simply placed on my lap killed me. I could see them everywhere else – on his body, on her skin, holding a tiny bag of pills, curved around the handle of a gun – but not here, never here. “You’re not even fucking close.”

“What are you thinking, Sofia?” she asked softly. I knew she was watching me, ready to take control of me if I suddenly exploded all over her little, and pathetic life.

I wanted to insult her. I really, really did. I wanted to get up out of that disgusting padded chair and form my hands around Erin’s thin neck and just get rid of her. I wanted to run out of this room and out of this camp and out of this world. I wanted to stay just the way I was before with lust and power at my fingertips, always ready for me to take.

Instead of doing anything like that, though, I found myself mumbling, against my will, “I miss… touch. I miss being a god. I miss my inevitable, intoxicating power. I miss…” I faded off because there was no real way to put into words how I’ve been feeling for the past three years of my life. My eyes grew wide as I realized just how honest I’d been and, when I raised them to look at Erin, her eyes seemed to light up at the sight of my sudden vulnerability.

Something inside of me panicked. Gods don’t do this, I reminded myself, gods don’t let themselves lose their guard in front of people like her, in front of people who don’t understand. I suddenly straightened my posture and raised my chin defiantly. I would defeat this camp and Erin and everything that tried to change me. In a strong tone, I continued, “But, of course, I’m still just as invincible and just as indestructible as when I began, Erin. You will not get the best of me.”

She sighed and rubbed her temple wearily. “We’re not trying to take the best of you, Sofia. We’re taking away the worst of you so that you can finally be free.” She looked outside of her office window for a moment before returning her gaze back to me. “Almost like the day when we let the balloons go. Do you remember that, Sofia?”

I did. I’d written sex & drugs on the blue balloon in small, scripted letters then let it lift up into the air. I let it gently fly out of my fist and all I could do was stare at it because I knew, for me, this meant nothing at all. The action was blank, out of context, and overdone. I shook my head and shrugged, again. “I’d prefer not to, really.”

Erin remained silent. I knew what she was holding back from me and I was tired of her. I wanted out of here, so I brought it up first – once and for all. “Why don't you just ask me the question that's on the tip of every counselor’s disgusting tongue? Go ahead. Do it. Get it over with.”

Knowing exactly what I was talking about, Erin held back another sigh and looked me straight in the eye. I didn't flinch at her strong and immediate eye contact. “Why do you think you're here, Sofia?”

I knew this question well. The judge, the police, my mother, and many others had asked me the same question that Erin, my supposed mentor, was forced to pose to me now. Even I had questioned myself once when I'd woken up in the middle of the night next to my first beautiful god. Now, it was different. I, in all my entirety, was a different person.

“I’m here because I refuse to mold to the standards of society. I’m here because people refuse to understand.” I took a deep breath and smiled crookedly. “I’m here because I indulge in the beauties of life that people are too frightened to.”