Chapter 8
I wake up the next day, with mama next to me. The house seems strangely quiet, and I'm confused for a second, before realising that it's because dad isn't here, making noise, shouting for mama to make his coffee, or something along those lines.
I sit up, disorientated for a second, because I don't recognise where I am. Then I realise I'm in mama's room, with Lucía on one side of me, and mama on the other. They're both sound asleep.
I look at the clock, and gasp, causing Lucía to stir. It's 7:45 already! We need to leave in fifteen minutes if we want to get to school on time!
I shake mama and Lucía awake simultaneously. They both groan and mumble, but are wide awake when I tell them the time.
'Que te den!' mama says, then looks at us. 'Sorry, mija's, we need quick.'
We start running around the house, shouting out to see if anyone has seen our whatsitsname, and asking if each other are ready yet.
Somehow, miraculously, we are ready to go on time. We all collapse into the car, and breathe a sigh of relief as mama pulls out from the driveway.
'Gracias, Sofía.' says Lucía, and I look at her in surprise. 'What?' she says. 'I'm complimenting you!'
'Yeah, but... like...'
'But like what?'
'But you never compliment me...'
'What do you mean?' she says, looking hurt.
'It's just- well, you always side with dad against me, and- and you never believe me, and you- you're just so perfect all the time.'
'Oh, Sofía, ¿sabes que todo fue un error? Me siento tan mal ahora, tratándote así. Y ponerse del lado de dad... eso es defensa propia. Asegurándose de no ser el siguiente en su línea de fuego. Lo siento, y sé que no mejorará mucho, pero Sofía... simplemente, te amo. ¡Eres mi hermana pequeña! Necesito protegerte más... todo esto es mi culpa.'
(Oh, Sofía, you know that was all a mistake? I feel so bad now, treating you like that. And siding with dad... that's just self defence. Making sure I'm not the next one in his line of fire. I'm sorry, and I know it won't make it much better, but Sofía... just, I love you. You're my little sister! I need to protect you more... this is all my fault.)
'No, no lo es, Lucía. No es tu culpa. es de papá. No necesitas decir lo siento, ya te perdono. Es papá quien debería disculparse.'
(No, it's not, Lucía. It's not your fault. It's dad's. You don't need to be saying sorry- I forgive you already. It's dad who should be apologising.)
Mama looks back at us.
'¡Mis queridos! Eso fue tan dulce, y los amo a ambos. Me alegro de que pudieras averiguar... lo que fuera necesario resolver. Ahora, es hora de ir a la escuela. ¡Qué tengas un lindo día! Dad debería estar en casa para cuando vuelvas.'
(My darlings! That was so sweet- and I love you both. I'm glad you could figure out... whatever needed to be figured out. Now, time to go to school. Have a great day! Dad should be home by the time you get back.)
'Oh sí, ¿dónde está dad?' I say
(Oh yeah, where is dad?')
'Away.' she replies. 'I- I don't know your dad is. Oh, mija's, am I bad mama?' Tears drip from her perfect eyes.
'No, no, mama!' I say, and lean over and give her a hug. 'You're a great mama, and we love you!'
She sniffles, and hugs me back.
'Have good day, mija's!' She calls out, as me and Lucía walk into the school from hell.
I take a deep breath as I walk in. I'm almost dreading seeing Caitlin, but she doesn't deserve me ignoring her. So I walk up to her.
'Hi!' I say.
'OMG, hi!' she says. 'Are you feeling better? I was so worried about you yesterday!'
'Yeah, I'm feeling better.' I smile. 'Did I miss much?'
'No, not too much... just Mr. 'Williams telling Nikki off for having her ponytail too high. I mean, how ridiculous is that?' she says.
'So ridiculous.' I reply.
'Anyways, what were you doing yesterday?' Butterflies birth in my stomach, remembering yesterday. I can't tell her the truth, no matter how much I want to. What if she tells someone? I mean, I know she won't, but this is something only people with anxiety would understand-
People with anxiety. Where did that come from? I don't have anxiety... do I? I mean, I worry sometimes, but doesn't everyone? And I have mini panic attacks-
"Sure they're mini, Sofía. I mean, doubling over and having to sit down to avoid falling over is mini."
No. No, I don't have anxiety, and this evil voice in my head can forget about it.
"But you can't forget, can you, Sofía. You can't forget that it's all your fault-"
I focus back on Caitlin, still talking away.
'And then she said "I don't know why!", and it was just so funny!' Then she starts laughing, so I laugh too.
"Faking to your own friends. Oh, Sofía, you really are bad, aren't you."
I need to do something. Anything to get this voice out of my head.
'Caitlin, how long until class starts? And what's our first class?'
She looks at me in surprise. I always know when class starts, what it is, everything, but today, I'm tired. And I don't care.
'Wait, let me check my timetable.' she says, and pulls it out of her bag. 'History with Ms. Bellwright.'
Ms. Bellwright is a strict old teacher who spends lessons droning on about the most boring subjects, and, if by the off chance she chooses an interesting subject, she will find a way to make it boring. I groan.
'I know, right?' Caitlin says. 'I had our first class with her yesterday, and it's the worst!'
'What room is it?' I say.
'16.' she replies.
'OK, not too far. Let's go, I just want to get this over and done with.' I say, and start walking, Caitlin following behind me.
When we arrive, I find a seat in the middle. Ms. Bellwright picks on the students in the front and back rows.
The class slowly fills up, but before Ms. Bellwright can start the inevitably boring lesson, the office lady from yesterday comes in.
'Can I please see Sofía Avirez- Kelly?' she asks, and I snap my head up.
Ms. Bellwright looks down her class list, double checking that I'm in her class.
'Sofía Avirez- Kelly?' she says.
'Yes, miss?' I say.
'Please go with Mrs. Banks. I need to start this lesson, and I don't want you taking up any more of my time. Leave.'
'Rude!' I mutter to Caitlin. She rolls her eyes like 'I know, right?', before I collect my stuff, and following Mrs. Banks.
Once we get to the office, she sits me down opposite her, and gets straight into it.
'Where did you go yesterday, Sofía? Your parents called the office yesterday, asking where you were, because you never came home. We know you weren't sick. What happened?'
I stare at the table, a lump forming in my throat. The black mist inches its way in, but I push it away.
'Sofía?' she asks. I can't think of any lies, so I come up with a twisted version of the truth.
'I just- got kinda upset. Nothing too bad, I just didn't want to go through the rest of the day. So I- well, you know what happened.'
Mrs. Banks hmmm's, and writes a few things down.
'But what I don't get, Sofía, is why you felt you needed to lie to us.'
'I guess I didn't want my parents to know?' I say, feeling like I'm in a counselling session.
'OK, well, that doesn't excuse your behaviour. Now, this is odd, but your father has requested you complete two weeks of detention? We believe this is a filling punishment, so, starting tomorrow, you will have an hour of detention everyday after school for two weeks. Hopefully, you will think about your actions, and use that time to reflect. You can go now.'
I leave the office, tears brimming. I hate getting in trouble. I hate doing anything that isn't perfect.
So I hate myself. I hate myself for being something that doesn't measure up.
Dad is completely right about me. I'm a nobody. Spoilt and ungrateful. Wrong. Bent. Broken. Unfixable. A lost cause.
"Don't go back to class, Sofía. Just leave them alone. Give them some peace."
'No.' I say out loud. I'll get in even more trouble. And I can't afford that.
"Don't go back. Stay in the school if you really have to, but don't disgust them with your presence. They don't deserve it."
'No.' I say again, but weaker this time. I can feel the black mist and this voice taking over.
"Hide in the bathrooms." it says.
No, I think. Nonononono.
"Yes." it says.
And I have no willpower left, so I run to the nearest bathroom. I lock myself in a stall, and curl up against a wall. It's disgusting. I read all the hate graffiti over the walls. But instead of seeing the original names, all I see is my own.
'Sofía is fat.' 'Sofía is ugly.' 'Sofía is fake.' 'Sofía is a terrible friend.' 'Sofía deserves to die.' 'Sofía should go kill herself.' 'Sofía is a snitch.'
And so on, and so on, until I can't take it anymore. The voice in my head starts up again.
"Pain, Sofía. You deserve it."
I let out a strangled sob, but reach for my bag anyway. I need something sharp. Something to deliver me the pain I deserve.
I find them. The scissors. I press the sharp blade against the skin of my wrist.
And I slice across my wrist, watching the blood stain my scissors red.
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