Page 3 of Keep Me Still
I sink down into a seat in the back near a window and stare out until I hear my name called for attendance. I raise my hand up and lower it quickly so I can go back to staring.
The window overlooks the courtyard below where we have lunch when it’s nice out. It’s sunny and the sky is a light shade of blue. Some kids are horsing around in the courtyard and I’m pretty sure they’re freshmen. The irony isn’t lost on me.
Pretty day, carefree people, sun shining. But it may as well be pouring rain in the middle of the night. Familiar black thoughts cloud my mind, and I wonder why I have to endure this torture. Why I survived. My mind wanders. Right back to the same place it always goes.
It’s cold out. My mom pulls my red pea coat around my shoulders and makes sure it’s buttoned. “I’m not a baby,” I tell her, jerking out of her grasp. At thirteen I can button my own coat for Pete’s sakes. I’m still a little pissy that my friend Tara couldn’t come. My dad walks around our silver SUV and glares at us for a second before smiling.
“Can’t even let me be a gentleman for one night,” he huffs. I roll my eyes because he knows my mom isn’t the type to sit around and wait for anyone to open her door.
“Sorry, hon,” my mom says. I don’t know if she’s speaking to me or to him. Snowflakes whirl a random dance around us, and my parents walk briskly down the deserted street, flanking me. When I was younger, we held hands and they would swing me. I used to think I was flying. The sidewalk is cracked and uneven, and a chain-link fence borders the side away from the street. For the first time I notice that downtown Atlanta is kind of ghetto.
“We should’ve parked in the garage,” my mom mumbles under her breath. Our heads are down to keep the wind from blowing in our faces so I don’t hear my dad’s response. Every year we go see The Nutcracker at the Atlanta Civic Center, and every year my dad refuses to pay the twelve dollar fee to park in the garage by the arena. This year it’s colder than usual, and my mom is annoyed but I think she’s just grumbling because she likes to get a rise out of my dad.
“Where’s the fun in that?” my dad asks, grabbing my hand and nodding at my mom over my head. She clasps my other hand.
“Oh no,” I say, attempting to pull my hands out of theirs. “I’m not a baby anymore.” I’m small for my age, but geez. I’m not a little kid. Why do I have to keep reminding them of this? They’ve been present for all thirteen of my birthdays.
They both squeeze tighter, and I give in and giggle as they pull me into the air.
Tires squeal to a stop on the road beside us and I’m put down roughly mid-swing. “Give me your wallet,” a stocky man coming towards us in a black hooded jacket sneers at my father. My mom pulls me in hard behind her so I can’t see his face. Her fingers dig deep into my arms, and I’m not sure if I’m the one trembling or she is. My heart pounds so hard it’s making me sick and my vision is blurring.
When a new student stands to introduce himself, I’m pulled from my thoughts. Because for some reason, the whole time he’s talking about how his dad is in the Army and they move a lot, blah, blah, blah, the tall dark-haired guy is focused completely on one person in the room. Me.
WhenI get home, I see that Aunt Kate has left a note. She had to go into the office and there’s lasagna in the fridge from last night’s dinner. I tried to eat my lunch at school under the magnolia tree where I usually sit but I was kind of creeped out by the strangest sense that someone was watching me, so I’m starving.
New Guy staring at me in class obviously got to me more than I realized.
I do my homework while I eat and try to ignore the shadow of loneliness looming over me. Aunt Kate has made so many sacrifices for me—working from home, which probably cost her becoming a partner at her firm, paying for private tutors so I didn’t have to go to school and risk having another public episode, and constantly taking off to attend all of my therapy sessions. Surely I can handle a few hours alone. I’m nearly eighteen years old for God’s sakes. Next year I’ll be at UGA or maybe Southern Cal if I’m lucky, and maybe then I can escape the memories that haunt me. Leave the broken, damaged girl I’ve become behind.
I’ll be fine. Just like I’ve been fine these last few months.
Smiling proudly to myself as I finish my homework and push up off the couch, I think about how far I’ve come. I even smiled at New Guy today at school. And I noticed how cute he was. He had a slight dimple in his left cheek when he smiled back.
Gathering my dishes, I walk towards the kitchen. And that’s when it happens. A car on the street backfires and all my hard work is out the window.
The darkness comes first, and I am vaguely aware of the beautifully terrifying sound of glass shattering against the tile floor as I go down. I hope there won’t be a bloody mess when Aunt Kate finds me.
“Layla? Jesus,” I hear from somewhere far away. But I’m too far-gone to answer.
WhenI wake up, I’m in my bed feeling a little drained and whole lot out of it.
“Good morning, hon,” Aunt Kate says. She leans over and checks something on my forehead.
“Another one?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
“Yeah, scared me to death,” she says, lowering herself onto my bed. “You can stay home today.”
“No,” I answer, surprising us both as I throw the covers off. “I said I was going to get through this year and I meant it.” If I couldn’t make it through a year at Hope Springs High School, how the hell would I make it on my own in college?
I can see in her eyes that she wants to argue but she doesn’t. “Okay,” she says, standing to leave so I can get dressed. “Here.” She hands me two white pills and a glass of water. “Oh hey. I picked up a really cute dress at a boutique downtown yesterday. It’s hanging in your closet with the tags still on in case you don’t like it.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it,” I tell her as she steps out.
Just as I stand up and stretch, a pain shoots through my head and I feel the bandage with my hand. I should be used to this by now. Wincing, I make my way to the closet.
“Layla?” my aunt says, startling me as she pokes her head back in.
“Hm?” I find the maroon sweater dress and it is really cute.
