Page 100 of Releasing 10
The medicine the doctors gave me in hospital slowed my thoughts down, and my angry feelings didn’t bounce around like they used to. I also realized, after spending nearly two months in hospital and away from my mother, that I feltbetterwhen I wasn’t around her. Because I was afraid of what would happen if she didn’t get better the next time. Because there wasalwaysa next time. Mam got sick and then better, and then sick again, while every time seemed worse than the last one.
It was a strange feeling, to not want my mother to hold me, while not wanting her to let me go all at once. But that’s what I felt when she held me.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Mam said, leading me into the bathroom. “I’ll run you a bath.” Sitting down on the closed toilet lid, I watched her draw a bath, not taking in a word of what she was saying. I knew she was trying to explain what was happening to my body, but I didn’t care. Because I didn’t like having a body. Then Caoimhe walked in and explained all about tampons. I didn’t care about that, either. It was fine. Whatever I needed to do, I would do.
“What if the bath water turns red?” I asked them, when I lowered myself into the water.
“It won’t,” Mam assured me before leaving the bathroom to give me privacy and taking my sister with her. The moment they were gone, I reached up with my foot and twisted the hot water tap with my big toe.
When the piping hot water started to bubble and the steam started to rise, I held my foot under the flow.
I was good with pain, and pain was good for me.
It made me feel better.
It helped me to concentrate.
To stop my thoughts from running rampant in my head.
The pain made all my thoughts float out of my head, and I sighed in relief.
Eyelids fluttering shut, I remained perfectly still as the water blistered and scorched my flesh.
Later that night, when my parents party was in full swing, I stayed upstairs in my room, too tired to talk to grown-ups whose names I never remembered.
I got a brand-new hi-fi stereo system for Christmas this year, with my very own copy of Fleetwood Mac’sRumours, the deluxe edition. Tonight, I had Stevie and Lindsey playing on a loop, using their voices to block out the noise coming from the party. My belly ached and I was nervous to walk around in case my insides fell out. Periods were scary.
When my friends arrived, they came upstairs to me, but Claire and Gibsie eventually scampered off in search of snacks. Not Hugh, though. Instead, he flopped down beside me on my bed and stayed with me.
Keeping me company all night, he told me stories about his adventures with Gibsie over Christmas break, the new computer games Santa had brought him, and the new books he had read.
“I fucking hate him, Liz,” he admitted when I asked if he was happy that his dad had come to the party tonight. With his arms resting behind his head, Hugh stared up at my bedroom ceiling and sighed. “He might as well have just stopped swimming that day because he hasn’t lived a day since.”
The pain in his words was one I was all too familiar with. It hurt my best friend to watch his dad retreat from life. Unlike Claire, who never seemed to notice, Hugh took it hard. I thought it might have something to do with his big brain. It made it harder for him to ignore the problems at home. He saw it all, watched it happen, and it broke him daily.
Rolling onto my side to face him, I tucked my hands under my cheek and whispered, “You’ll always have me, Hugh.”
He shifted onto his side to face me and smiled at me. “You really love this band, don’t you?” By changing the subject, he was letting me know that he was finished talking about his dad. That was okay. I didn’t mind. I was happy to listen to him talk about anything, just as long as he stayed with me.
“What’s wrong?”
My brows scrunched up. “What do you mean?”
He touched my hand that I was using to cradle my stomach, looking concerned. “Do you feel sick?”
“No, not sick,” I replied. “Just sore.”
His brown eyes locked on mine. “Why are you sore, Liz?”
My cheeks flushed. “I got my period.”
“Is that the thing that happens to women?” He frowned. “With the bleeding.”
I nodded.
“But you’re not a woman yet.”
“I know.”
