Page 55 of The Glass Girl

Answers:?Yes?No?Sometimes

Has your employment or schoolwork suffered because of drugs and alcohol?

Answers:?Yes?No?Sometimes

Have you ever “lost time” when drinking?

Answers:?Yes?No?Sometimes

Have you ever suffered an injury as a direct result of ingesting alcohol or drugs?

Answers:?Yes?No?I don’t remember

Have you ever sought treatment for drug or alcohol abuse?

Answers:?Yes?No

On and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.

I have a funny feeling that filling out this form is not going to get me out of here right away. But I can’t not fill it out, can I? That lady, Tracy, might tell my parents and they’ll get mad and tell me to fill it out. But I can’t answer truthfully, either, because that might get me in trouble, too, because obviously, I’mhere,in this hospital bed, with a broken face and tubes in me. There’s no downplaying that.

But I’m not going to drink anymore after this. I’m not. I’m done. I won’t. I’ll be good. I will. This was pretty bad. I mean, I’mbroken,literally. I just want to go home.

I mark “Sometimes” for most of the questions, “No” for a few, “Yes” for the ones that are obvious, like that second-to-last one. This really isn’t a good questionnaire because there are so many extenuating circumstances. Like, I’m fifteen and life sucks, soYes,I probably feel hopeless, at some point, every day. What teenager doesn’t? And sure, I probably tell myself I wish I was dead sometimes, when things are really sucky, like with Dylan, and Laurel dying, but I don’t want todiedie.

Do I?

This is a stupid questionnaire and that woman is a stupid person and I don’t have to fill this out. She can’tmakeme.

None of this would have happened if Lemon and Kristen and Lemon’s gray-toothed friend hadn’t dumped me on my mother’s stoop. They could have just let me sleep it off in the car. This istheirfault.

I rip up the papers and dump the pieces on the floor and bury my face in the pillow, good side down, and will myself to sleep.

—

But when I wake up later, there’s a fresh questionnaire on my tray table, along with a pen.

I take the pen and scrawlLEAVE ME ALONEacross every single sheet and slam them back on the tray table.

—

I haven’t seen my parents in a while. The hospital is strangely quiet. Are they going to bring Ricci to see me, ever? Maybe she shouldn’t see me like this, actually. It looks dark outside the window. My face really hurts. They come in sometimes and give me a little pill but I don’t think it’s doing anything. I need something stronger. Why hasn’t Amber come to see me? Or Cherie? I don’t expect Lemon or Kristen to, after what they did. I can’t believe they would do that to me, just leave me there. I’m not going to be friends with Kristen anymore. Lemon can go to hell. So can his creepy friend with the tooth. Who cares if I can’t remember everything from that night? That probably happens to a lot of people.Blackout.Fine, so I blacked out. But I’m not dead. I’m not dead. I’m sorry my mother had to find me, but also, I’m glad, in a weird way, because now she knows maybe what it was like for me to find her mother on the brick path. We have never talked about that. That it was me. It was me. It was me. It was me. It was me.

A giant rush of something crests inside me, taking my breath away. I haven’t thought of this in forever, so plainly. We don’t talk about it.

That I found her.

(me)

—

I have the nurse’s sleeve gripped in my hand and I won’t let go and it’s possible I’m sobbing or maybe I’m not because all I hear is the sound of myself imploding.

(My grandmother’s body was limp)

I pressed that button over and over and finally someone came and they won’t give me any more painkillers because it isn’t time and they can only give me a certain dose because my liver is messed up and when did that happen and how but the nurse doesn’t have any answer I can accept.

(I think she went out to get the newspaper. I asked them to put it on her step and they never did. They always dropped it at the start of the path.)

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