She Said, She Said

Caleb didn't look at me when I went and parked my wheelchair right in front of him. Or when I tried to sit beside him. Or when I fell and bumped my head on the tree trunk. Or when I started cursing.

"Hi," I mumbled, craning my neck to the side. My head still hurt.

Caleb finally glanced at me, his eyes dull, his lips a straight line. Without a word, he went back to examining his shoes. I sighed inwardly, not really understanding what I was doing there, sitting beside a strange boy who obviously hated me. Maybe I was rushing it. Maybe he didn't want me to know anything about it. And maybe I should have just gone to that stupid walk.

"Look," I started, "I know I'm not the nicest person around but you've got to understand that I've been through a lot." A picture flashed in my mind. I recognized it immediately: it was a picture of my family, which sat at home on top of the dresser in my room. Home. My Room. As these words popped into my head, I felt my face go hot. A sudden burst of anger seemed to come out of nowhere as I said my next words, "And you're just a jerk. Maybe you should try being nicer."

Caleb's head jerked in my direction, a scowl plastered on his face. "Go away."

"No. You're supposed to be the person who'll help me get better, but all you do is make my life a living hell, as if it already isn't bad enough." I could feel my nails digging into my palm as I clenched my fist.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?" he asked, his face red. "I don't want to be here, okay? And don't try to feed this bullshit to me about how your life sucks. You have no idea what the word hell even means." With that, he got up, and wandered to who-knows-where.

I sat there for a few minutes, stunned, and tried to breathe again. It was official now. I hated Caleb. I hated his guts. I can't believe he had the nerve to tell me what I should say or not say. I mean, it's my life, not his, so he doesn't know what I've gone through, or what I'm going through. It's so unfair.

"Asshole," I mumbled under my breath, and tried not to cry. Why was I being so stupid anyway? I didn't need to cry over some psychotic guy, who couldn't control his feelings. He was probably admitted into the BRC because he was selling drugs, or something. Sighing, I leaned back against the rough trunk, and exhaled, wanting nothing more than to go to bed. I glanced around, and noticed there was barely anyone left in the park except for some of the guards, and a few other kids who hadn't gone to the walk.

I hadn't noticed it before, but there was a fence around the park. I could see cars rushing by, and people walking on the sidewalk every now and then. Just as I was about to turn away, I spotted a girl - probably a bit older than me - and a boy walking, hand in hand. For some reason, instead of going "Awe" or "Cute" like I should have done, it felt like somebody had just stabbed me with a needle.

In the fifth grade, I used to have this boyfriend. His name was Ryan Nicholas. He was just about the cutest guy in the whole grade, and I was his girlfriend. When I think about it now, we could've really had a great relationship - Ryan and I. Unfortunately, though, he broke up with me in the seventh grade after I tripped in the cafeteria - in front of everyone! - and got food all over myself. Everyone - including some of Ryan's friends - laughed at me, and teased me for weeks, but still, Ryan did not break up with me. Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore, and told me it was over. I cried for three hours straight that night.

After Ryan, I haven't really thought about having a relationship with someone. Sure, I have had some crushes, and all, but nothing serious. And now - with the pathetic situation I'm in - I can forget about this whole relationship thing.

Heh, I scoffed to myself, and here Caleb thought I didn't know what the word 'hell' meant.