Page 28 of In This Iron Ground
Slowly, he sunk back into his body. It was shaking. His hands were still pressed against his face. He lowered them. The light behind his eyelids was orange and harsh. He breathed. He breathed. When he opened his eyes, Mia was there. There were tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Damien whispered wetly, but she shook her head, her smile sad, collapsing at the sides.
“Weare the ones who are sorry. You’re thirteen, Damien, and we love you. It’s our duty to protect you.”
Damien closed his eyes at the wordlove, the sudden press of ice on fevered skin.
When Damien had calmed down, gulping half a cup of water and returning his hand to Mia’s, Sam picked up the thread again.
“I can see the last question was quite upsetting. Should we skip that for now, come back to it later?”
Damien shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never even—it didn’t feel real. I’d think about running away. Disappearing.” The last word came out cracked, his throat closing between vowels.
“Did you ever make any plans. To disappear?” Sam asked. Damien shook his head.
“I don’t want to die,” Damien said, his voice small and collapsing into itself. It might have been a strange thing to say, after taking all those pills and running into the forest, but he knew there would be no scent of insincerity about him. What Damien had wanted was too large and abstract to be sought after in reality.
He was so powerless. Over his past, his life, his emotions, his thoughts. It had been too unbearable, waiting for it tochange, toget better, to…what, what? Fix itself? When things had only gone from bad to worse? It had been too big. He couldn’t imagine a reality in which that bad-apple darkness was gone and he was still himself. And that was the crux of it, really.
He hated himself but was too afraid of losing himself to change.
“Did you plan what happened today? Like, did you think about it, maybe before you went to sleep, or…?”
“No. It just—happened. I just, I just wanted it to stop.”
“It sounds like that pressure you were talking about before was really high. Did something happen today?”
“Not really.”
“Not really? Is that a solid no or did something small happen, or…?”
“No. Nothing happened.”
“What about yesterday?” Sam asked.
Damien paused. “It was my birthday yesterday,” he said, his voice coming out quiet. There was a moment of silence. Mia’s hand twitched, squeezing his momentarily.
“Ah. Did…okay. Did someone—did you do anything?”
Damien shrugged, and the movement ended with Damien folded over himself slightly, his free arm wrapping around his stomach.
“No. No one…no one remembered,” he said and, even to his surprise, a harsh laugh burst out of him after the revelation because—how pathetic was that? Trying to kill himself because of someSixteen Candlesbullshit?
“I can see how that could be very upsetting, Damien. Celebrating birthdays is something that people take for granted. And I can see how having everybody forget could make you feel…alone?” Sam said, her voice earnest. Damien had his eyes closed. He wasn’t sobbing, but tears were falling down his cheeks, his jaw clenched and trembling.
“Damien,” Mia said, a soft, cracking sound in the dark, and she pulled him toward her in another embrace. He buried his head into her shoulder again, breathing through a wet mouth thick with tears.
That storm passed too, and Damien eventually sat back against the headboard. Every time he cried he felt empty. He didn’t know how much more he had to give, but when offered to take a break, he turned it down. He wanted it to be over.
“Okay, Damien. I know this is tough, but you’re doing amazing,” Sam said. Damien scrunched up his face. “I know it doesn’t feel that way, but you are. Right…I know after all this, this might sound like a silly question, but how have you been feeling lately? Like, if we were to put your mood on a one to ten scale, one being the lowest of the low, where would you place yourself? Not now, but usually.”
Damien gave it thought. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“I don’t know. On where I am, I guess.”
“Okay, let’s go through the main places you’re at then. I’m guessing, home, school…”
