Ch. 3
Wait, How does this keep happening?


On my way to school I look at everything around me. It doesn’t take to long to get there, considering that I don’t live too far away. My brother and sister are playing in the puddles that were made the night before.
It has been around 6 months since I have been admitted to the hospital. I am now on a medication that for some reason isn’t really used for depression. It’s mostly used for headaches or seizures. But then again they tell me that I will lose weight while taking it, so I accept it.
I look all around me and everything looks so dark…..too dark. The sky for some reason has a bright sun, but seems to be shaded. My world feels dark for a reason I do not know and I feel no longer happy. I decide that I am just being paranoid.

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The phone rings from inside the classroom and then I hear my teacher tell me that I need to go down to the guidance quickly. She sends me with another classmate, orders of Mrs. Dunkin, and then I am there. I can’t understand what is happening and I to be honest I don’t even care.

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Finally I am there and they barricade me in her office. “what’s going on?” I ask. She looks at me the way that teacher did the day I was caught. Those sad, pitiful eyes looking straight into me and I can’t help to wonder what it would be like to be looked at as a normal person again. “Your father is here.” I sit back in my chair and give a big sigh. She watches every movement that I make. “What are you thinking?” “I’m thinking that I’m going to kill him. I’m honestly tired of this! It’s rather annoying, let alone makes my life miserable.” She understands completely, I can tell with the way she’s looking at me. “Well, we’re just going to keep you here just until he’s gone and then you can go back to class.” I nod and sit there until it’s safe for me to return.

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“Cecilia you need to do the dishes!” My father is at the point of screaming now. I tell my friends good bye and get off so I can do what I am told. The hardest part I find about washing the dishes is pulling up my sleeves. After all I have cuts all over my arms, not mentioning the bruises that are all over my body. I have a new one on my face right below my eye. The other day my father was not happy with me, at all.
I walked home from school and he came to pick me up. My report card came in and he of course saw it. He began to tell me that I wasn’t good enough and that I should try harder. My comeback; “I try the best I can, and my mother thinks my grades are fine!” He looks at me with those fiery eyes and I begin to back away slowly. But he comes quickly towards me and pins me against the wall. “If you ever talk to me like that I again, you will be severely punished.” At this, I stare at him with eyes that could kill a crow in a second. The Next thing, pain, that’s all I feel on my face, on the back of my head, and then blood runs everywhere. I know where it’s from and before I become unconscious I pray “Lord, please take me. Don’t leave me on this earth. I need to go, please.” After that all I remember is darkness and nothing else.
I wake up screaming, breathing heavily. I realize it had only been a dream. “Oh, thank God.” I look around and then I go to the bathroom. Looking into the mirror I look at my cheek. I still can see a scar that was from the fall, but I have had that ever since it had happened. I remember then, that it’s Saturday and I go to my room and fall asleep, this time dreaming of someone far more better.
He looks at me, I know because I look at him, just not as obvious. I wonder what he thinks of me. Does he think that I am pretty? Does he think I am funny? Nice? Or is he just looking at me because he pities me? Just like everyone else. I look into his eyes, ever so closely. We are stuck there together for a split second and then we both turn away. I noticed something, but it wasn’t pity and it wasn’t sorrow. It was something far from it. Looking at my paper I make a small smile and then go back to my work. He does like me after all.

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My law guardian is an obese, mid height, mid thirties woman. She is very nice and I very much like her. She definitely, no question about it, fights for my rights. “Now you do understand that he has gone against the protective order right?” I nod and agree with her for the whole session. “Honey, we can get you a restraining order if you are really getting frightened.” “Yes, No doubt about it, I want to do it.”

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I decide to go to Mrs. Dunkin’s today and to speak with her. “I need to speak with Mrs. Dunkin please.” Mrs. Pfeifer looks up at me and takes me into her office. “What did you need to speak with me about?” I look at her; her smile never fades. “What happens when everything is dark?” “What do you mean?” “I mean that I am walking down the hall, in a room, outside, and everything around me is literally dark. I feel cold as if the devil is always behind me, waiting for me to die.” She listens intently and writes things in her big pad of paper. “How have you been feeling lately?” I think about this and then I understand where she’s getting at. “I feel horrible. As if I don’t want to take my pills and I want to cut myself again.” It was my release. She nods and then tells me “I’m going to call your mother and set an appointment up with your psychiatrist. They may need to put you on a different medication. Don’t worry. This is normal. Your body changes and so your medication is likely to change when you get older. You won’t be on it forever though.” I nod, agree and smile. Relieved that it can be helped. That I don’t have to go back to those white walls and those cold rooms. But then I think of her last words. Most likely for me, I will be on this medication forever. It always happens when he’s around. And he never fails to show up.