Living on Borrowed Time, page 12
I knew that I wanted to make things right, that I wanted to speak civilly with Daphne, but right now when I’d just argued with my family and my head was a big old mess, I just wasn’t in the mood.
She stepped closer, as if she was about to do the same, before thinking better of it. This small movement was enough for me to see Bradley shifting from foot-to-foot awkwardly behind her. I narrowed my eyes at him, overwhelmed with an urge to punch him full pelt in his stupid, freckly face, but I refrained. He wasn’t even making eye contact with me anyway; he was a coward—not worth my time, or my fist.
“You should have told me that you were coming.” Daphne gushed in an over-the-top fashion, plonking herself next to me, totally ignoring the thick tension that was swilling around us. I grabbed my glass of wine as if it were a shield, and took another much-needed gulp. As the bubbles slid down my throat, I felt a sense of calm starting to overtake; even my pulse rate began to slow down. “I would have arranged something.”
She wanted to act like nothing had happened, like we hadn’t fallen out, like I hadn’t spent the last year or so ignoring her. And I wanted that too, I really did. I just didn’t know if it was achievable.
“Yeah well,” I murmured, trying to sound casual. “It was all a bit last minute.”
“We have so much to catch up on.” She changed the subject rapidly, sensing that it was teetering into dangerous territory. “Tell me everything.”
I almost laughed out loud at this. Where could I start? The shitty job that I’d just been fired from? The amazing guy that had actually liked me, but that I’d blown off because I didn’t want to tell him about myself? The number of friends I had that were petering down by the second? Or maybe she would prefer to know about how much I liked to drink now, or how I’d screwed people I didn’t know just in a poor attempt to feel better about myself?
No, I couldn’t share any of me with her. I was going to have to get her talking, and I could tell that she was practically bursting at the seams, wanting to discuss the one topic that I was desperate to avoid, so I decided to take this hit and ask her about it.
The wedding.
It was either that, or be honest—and that really wasn’t my strong point.
“I’d rather hear all about you.” I grinned through gritted teeth, trying desperately to keep it all inside. “You’re the one with big news after all.”
As she exploded with an information overload about napkin colours, roses and seating plans, I managed to tune it all out. Instead I focused on Bradley. He’d slid into the seat beside her, but looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the entire world. When I thought back to how close we’d once been, it was difficult not to feel a little hurt. How had we managed to go from high school sweethearts, to strangers who didn’t even want to be near one another?
“Okay, Bradley?” I asked, completely shooting down Daphne in the middle of her rant. If I hurt her feelings, I didn’t even notice. She certainly didn’t speak up about it at any rate. She just shrank in on herself.
Bradley stared at me with shock in his expression, and I tried—and failed—to muster up a genuine smile. The wine was now swilling around inside of me, giving me a bit of the fuzzy head that made me do things that I normally wouldn’t. I knew that I could have just sat here and ignored him, politely listening to his girlfriend, but the small amount of alcohol had lit a fire in my belly—one that wouldn’t be dulled.
“Erm…” He stammered, his eyes flickering awkwardly between me and Daphne. “Yes.”
“You don’t need permission from your girlfriend to talk to me, do you?” I had meant this to be an ice breaking joke, one that would dispel the elephant in the room, but instead I sounded snarky and rude.
“I…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daphne sounded angry now. She had red spots on her cheeks, which she only ever got when things felt totally out of her control. “Why are you being difficult?”
Difficult, always difficult.
This really got my back up. I was trying so hard to make everyone else feel comfortable. It was them attacking me that made things so hard. Why couldn’t they all see what they were doing to me? Why couldn’t they see that I didn’t want to be difficult, but that I didn’t know how to be anything else?
“Oh yeah.” I laughed bitterly. “It must be really difficult for you, stuck talking to me—the girl who should be dead. I’m so sorry that it’s awkward for you.” I slid my seat back and stood up, my rant starting to get into full flow. All of the horrible emotions that I’d been feeling for years began to make their way to the surface, and I could no longer control any of them. “Sorry that my being alive is such an inconvenience to you and my boyfriend.” I didn’t even know why I was zoning in on that—it wasn’t as if I wanted Bradley anymore. I just wanted them to understand a tiny iota of the pain I’d been through. I just wanted to hurt them as much as they had me, even if they hadn’t intended to.
“Lara, you can’t…” Daphne was trying to sound overly calm now, as if she was dealing with a grouchy child, which of course only resulted in riling me up further.
“No, Daphne. You can’t. You can’t even begin to understand me, and what I’ve been through. You have no fucking idea…”
“Oh God.” She sneered nastily. “It’s all about you, isn’t it?” She stood up too, facing me with the most defiant look I’d ever seen. “Poor little Lara, she didn’t die and now she doesn’t know what to do.” I balked at her words, but that didn’t stop her. It seemed like months of frustration were boiling out in this moment. “Guess what, Lara? Most people would kill for the chance you have, and you’re pissing it away.” I stepped back, wanting to run away. I didn’t need to hear this, I couldn’t. “But you’re selfish.” She snapped once more. “You always have been, and you always will be.”
“I…” I felt the colour drain from my face. Daphne was telling the truth about me where no one else would. Even the words that Kimberly had spoken to me when she was trying to make me see sense had been laced with kindness. I knew that Daphne was trying to make me see things clearly, but I didn’t want to accept it. She was saying what no one else had the guts to, and it hurt like hell.
“Fuck you, Lara.” She finally spat out, giving me a look of utter hate, before stalking out of the bar, leaving a trail of destruction behind her.
Me and Bradley had an intense moment of eye contact. All that wasn’t, that might have been, that would never be, flowed between us. I could see him trying to fit the girl he’d once known into the box that I was now, but he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t—she was no longer there. I just stared back at him, bewildered, almost wishing that I had answers for him.
Then he slowly shuffled out too, leaving me all alone. Just as I deserved.
TWENTY-ONE
I could have left the pub, I really could have. I should have gone back home and sorted things out with my family, but I didn’t. Instead I sat back down at that bar, and did they only thing I knew how to these days—I ordered another drink.
Then another, then another.
This had been a stupid mistake; I should never have come back here. Now I’d fallen out with my family, yelled at my friend, and I felt shittier than ever. Again, I’d messed up my second chance, and of course I had no idea what to do about it.
Maybe if I was a better person, I could have sorted all of this out. But I wasn’t, and I never would be.
I just couldn’t stop myself from acting rashly, even when I knew the consequences were going to be unbearable and long-lasting. What the hell was wrong with me? I dwelled on that question for a long time, unable to come to any solid conclusion.
Before long, a vaguely familiar face was sitting next to me, talking to me about school. It was clearly someone that I’d known a while back, but I had no idea who it was now. However, the more I drank, the more attractive his features became, and the closer I felt to him. Suddenly, his annoying laugh became endearing, and his insistence of trying to be my friend became cute. He was the only one being nice to me and for that reason alone, I wanted him.
I wanted him to make me feel better, even though I knew it was unlikely that he could.
I decided that I would kiss him. Somewhere in my fuzzy brain that clearly wasn’t thinking straight, I chose to—in a very drunken, ungainly fashion—to lurch for him…
…Just to be stopped by my stepfather, like a naughty school girl who’d been found behind the bike sheds.
“Lara.” Carter snapped, dragging me backwards. “What the hell is wrong with you? You left your mother behind crying at home, just to come here to get stupidly drunk and paw some idiot guy?”
“Hey!” The idiot guy yelled out, but Carter shut him down quickly.
“Just keep out of it you, unless you want some home truths too.” With that, I watched the coward sneak off, leaving me to take all of the blame. “Now, come on home. I’ve been looking everywhere for you, I’ve been out for hours.”
He screamed at me all the way home, and I let him do it. I didn’t even roll my eyes or snap back. I just couldn’t be bothered. I’d dwindled into the exhausted stage of drunk, and once I was there, all I could was sleep it off. I didn’t have the energy for a fight. Not even this one.
Unfortunately, rest was a long way off because Carter and my mum had a whole lot to say to me, and they felt like right now was the right time for that. It quickly turned from a relatively normal chat into one of those arguments where everything became blurry and distorted, where we all lost track of what we were saying. Everything that was within me, everything that I’d been through, almost came bubbling to the surface, but I forced myself to keep inside. I couldn’t let any of it out. Once I opened those floodgates, I didn’t think there would be any shutting them, and I didn’t want my mum to have to witness me breaking down like that.
I did say all kinds of awful things that I didn’t really mean, then I tried to retract them all, to have a normal conversation, but I was too drunk and confused for anything to sound rational. Every word I spoke managed to sound bitchy and pissed off, even when I didn’t mean them that way.
In the end, I burst into sobbing tears, and my mother sent me to her bed for a long, descent night of rest. I wasn’t sure where her and Carter were going to sleep, but I was too tired to even ask. Once I was under the sheets, I expected emotion to build up inside me all over again, but I passed out within seconds.
***
When the morning came around, I felt like I could die. My head was thumping, my body hurt, and nausea flooded through me. I wanted the pain to subside, and I knew the only way I was going to do that was by vomiting. But I didn’t want to move.
Of course I had to; I wasn’t getting any choice with that one. If I didn’t, I’d end up puking in the bed where I wanted to lay and that would force me to wake up, which I wasn’t ready for either.
As I staggered to the bathroom, wishing more than ever I could be at my own home where I could suffer this in peace, I bumped into the person that I wanted to see least in the world.
“Not now, mum.” I croaked, seeing the horrified look on her face at the state of me. “I’m ill.”
“I’m not surprised.” He face flushed pink and her entire body tensed up, showing me just how angry she was about my behaviour the previous night. I wanted to cringe, to yell some more, but somehow I was back to being the teenage girl getting shouted at by her mum and just quietly allowing it to happen.
Not that it happened too much when I was the right age. Illness had taken that away from me too. But that didn’t make now a good time for my rebellious years, not one bit!
“We have a lot to discuss young lady, and I expect you down stairs in the dining room, as soon as you feel better.” She sounded cold, as if she had to get this sentence out in the calmest way possible.
“Yeah.” I replied sullenly, feeling myself pout. “Alright.”
And then I headed into the bathroom to hug the toilet for as long as I needed to.
I didn’t meet her downstairs for hours. I puked for a while, then headed back to bed until I felt ready to face them. I knew that I’d never be fully ready to deal with what was to come, but I also knew that I couldn’t hide away forever. If I wanted to leave here, to get back to my life, then I might as well get this over and done with.
As I reached the dining table, mum and Carter were already there, as if they’d been waiting for me for all that time. I slunk into my seat, already regretting my decision to come down the stairs. I should have given it a few more hours, to give me the chance to feel less fragile. I flicked my eyes between them both, wishing that this was already over, wishing that I was still being hugged by the gorgeously thick duvet they had on their bed.
“Lara.” My mum started, seriously, as if she’d rehearsed what was about to come. “I don’t know who you are anymore, and that worries me. What we saw last night was quite frankly, terrifying.”
“Mum…” I started, shaking my head. I didn’t need this! I was fine…or at least I would be once I’d figured myself out a bit.
“No, let me speak.” She shut me down quickly. “Now, I know that you’ve been through a difficult time, but you need to recover from that. You need to get some focus, so aim, you need to do something.”
Carter jumped in, even though I was mentally praying for him not to. “The behaviour I witnessed in the bar was extremely troubling, and because of that we want you to stay here for a while; your mother wants to keep an eye on you.”
“No.” I wouldn’t do that. There was just no way…
“I’m not giving you the option.” Mum jumped in, using a tone that I’d never heard before. One that meant business. “It’s that or rehab.”
The threat of another hospital environment shut me up quickly. She was deadly serious—there was no way that she would have mentioned it otherwise. She was the only person who knew how much I didn’t like medical facilities of any kind.
“And I want you to do some sort of therapy.” She continued, sending panic coursing wildly through me. I’d spent such a long time trying to avoid talking through my problems with a professional, that the idea now filled me with an undue sense of utter terror.
How the hell was I going to get out of this one?
“I don’t know if that’s…”
“It is a good idea, Lara.” She finished firmly. “I should have done it right away, but I was blind to how bad things were.”
“I’m alright really,” I argued weakly, but it got me nowhere.
“Lara, if you don’t let us help you then I’m afraid we are going to have to take more drastic action. I don’t want…” She clamped her lips together tightly as an unreadable expression crossed her face. As tears filled her eyes, a guilty feeling built up inside of me, taking over everything else. It got to the point where I felt so awful, I would have agreed to just about anything she suggested. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
I nodded slowly, already regretting agreeing to this. This would be a mistake, I just knew it, but I didn’t see what choice I had. “Okay mum,” I finally replied with sadness lacing my tone. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”
TWENTY-TWO
As I sat in a circle of strangers on hard plastic chairs, I felt like my world had ended. This was a part of my mum’s terms, and quite frankly it was something that I could really do without.
Although, this option had been the lesser of all the evils!
Mum originally tried to sign me up to one-on-one counselling sessions, but there was no way I could do that. All of that intense, scrutinising attention gave me a mini panic attack just thinking about it, so when she’d talked about a group, I figured that would be much better. It made it even more appealing because it was run in the local community centre. I didn’t even think it was being organised by a professional, just some guy with an online qualification, which was absolutely perfect for me. The less real this was, the better. If it had been at the hospital, or at the doctor’s surgery, it would have felt too clinical for me.
I felt lucky to have found such a casual, slack group. I figured I could blend into the background for the meagre six sessions, skating under the radar until it was over, allowing me to get out of this nightmare and go back home.
How wrong I’d been.
This attention was going to be even worse than with just one professional. Here, I would have nine more sets of eyes looking at me too. I hadn’t realised just how daunting that would be. Sure, they had their own worries to focus on, but there was no way I’d be able to speak out loud in front of them all. I couldn’t tell my story to all of these strangers—even if theu kind of understood me. Maybe after today, I would have to find another solution. I just hoped mum would be as flexible as I needed her to be.
“…shall we go around the circle and introduce ourselves?” I finally tuned back into what the guy in charge of this bullshit was saying, just in time for him to strike cold fear into my heart.
I flicked my eyes around quickly, trying to see if anyone else hated this idea as much as me, but none of them had anything on their faces to suggest as much. They all looked ready for this, happy to progress. Urgh, why could no one else see how much of a waste of time this was? Were they actually expecting some sort of life transformation in six sessions? It was mental!
Everything that had attracted me to this course, now put me right off it.
I stared at everyone in turn as they spoke, creating a hum in my head so I didn’t have to know any of their names. I didn’t want any information about any of them in my brain; I didn’t want any of their stories to affect me, or to impact on me in any way.
I just needed this over.
And then it came to me, and I realised I should have listened a little, if just to know what everyone else had said.
“Erm…” I sat up awkwardly, feeling an intense blush fill my cheeks. “My name is Lara.” I coughed uncomfortably, noticing everyone looking at me expectantly. Did they want more from me? Were they assuming that I was going to tell my whole story now? My heart pounded painfully against my rib cage at that prospect, I was nowhere near ready for that today! I’d been expecting that much later on, if at all. “I’m twenty three years old.” My mind had gone completely blank; I had no idea what to say. Stressed burned brightly in my stomach, and began to creep around my veins. “And I live…you know, here.” I shouldn’t have said that since it hadn’t been the truth for a while now, but it spilled past my lips regardless.
