I looked up at him, a rare flicker of rage rising in my chest—something I usually worked hard to keep buried.
“Why?” I snapped. The bitterness slipped out before I could stop it. “So you can remind me that I’ll be dead soon enough?”
My mother and Wyatt looked at me at the same time, their faces twisted in shock, like I’d just committed a crime in front of their very eyes.
“Asher!” they both snapped, harshly.
I didn’t answer.
Turning away, I started the trek toward my room, already feeling small from the outburst I’d just let slip. I needed to get out of here. I needed air. A walk, a run—hell,somethinghad to give.
Maybe it would finally be my heart.
From somewhere behind me, I heard my father hush them both. “Let him go,” he said dismissively. “He’s got some underlying emotions he’s working through, right, Blythe?”
I shook my head.What a condescending asshole.
Disappointment crawled through my veins, radiating into my limbs sinking in my skin like a second layer I couldn’t peel off.
I dropped onto my bed, limbs heavy, unsure of what I even wanted to do next. Sit here and sulk, playing thewoe is mecard for the hundredth time? Or get up and live a life that left a mark, one they’d all remember when I was gone?
Fuck everyone who doubted me.
Maybe I couldn’t control how long I lived—but I could controlwhy.
And right now? I’d live out ofspite.
That was it. That was my reason. I was now living purely out of spite.
Lennon
Monday came around faster than I had anticipated, and I wasn’t ready for it. I didn’t want to be inside that fucking room without having seen it first. Just a glimpse would have taken the edge off the nerves that were wracking my brain at that moment.
I had about twenty minutes to get to the group, and the walk would take ten. Looking in the mirror, I assessed what I saw.
Bleach-blonde, ratty hair. A thin body that could use some calories, hidden beneath old band shirts and oversized, ripped jeans. Days-old makeup. A walking fucking trainwreck. I couldn’t have told the world any louder that I was unapproachable, undesirable, and unfriendly.Stay the fuck back—that was the message my outfit screamed. And honestly, I was counting on it.
As I made my way toward the hospital where the group met, the weather was gloomy. Grey skies made the chilly breeze bite harder, but I didn’t mind. Gloomy days kept more people indoors, thus making it more bearable for me to be outside. The doom and gloom threatened thunderstorms, and, if I were being honest, I was hoping for it. There was something about the rain that felt oddly comforting—oddly familiar in a nostalgic kind of way. Most people didn’t feel that way about the rain, which was probably what drew me in even more.
Wrapping my arms around my chest, holding myself inward, I continued down the sidewalk. Though fewer people were out, some still moved through their daily routines. A man in an all-black tracksuit walking his dog. An elderly woman with a walker, waiting at the bus stop. So many people, so many intricate lives.
I wondered if they saw me. If they could read my mind and see that I was nothing in this world. That I was living a purposeless life. Someone waiting to be squashed. Someone who should just go away. I wondered if they could see through my tough facade to the stupid little girl inside. The one who couldn’t stand herself. I wondered what they saw when they looked at me.
When I looked at them, I saw hope. Lives filled with it. I bet when people looked at me, they sensed there was none left in mine. Just as I could feel their lives were filled with big dreams and mountains of hope, they probably saw me for what I was.
Off in the distance, I saw the hospital—my destination.I just need to get through this session. Just this one for today,I repeated in my mind. Breaking it down into smaller tasks sometimes made the day more bearable.
Step by step, I closed the distance between me and the large building.Deep breath in. Deep breath out.I just needed to walk there. Just a few more steps. Walk through the front doors of the hospital.I just need to push through the fucking revolving door.The large enclosed circle slowed until my hands pressed against it and pushed forward.
Off the door went, barricading me for a mere two seconds before ejecting me into the hospital. Once inside, a wave of relief flickered just beyond reach. I should’ve taken a seat; regained my composure before the tightness in my chest made it impossible to breathe. The muscles in my back ached from the tension that had gripped me all weekend. I was sore, exhausted, and tired. I could hardly fathom having to keep going.
As I approached a bench, I noticed a burly man sitting at one end, his legs crossed while holding a newspaper. I assessed the open space beside him, weighing whether it was worth the risk to sit next to someone of his stature. Noticing me standing there, he peered over the paper and gestured with his hand toward the empty space, then returned to reading.
I decided against it. I could keep moving. Maybe I’d find an empty bench—or maybe I’d make it into the group room and sit in a chair meant just for me. My palms were sweating, despite the mild weather. I rubbed my fingers against my palms and clenched my fists, trying to relieve the pressure building inside me.
As I meandered down the hallway, I spotted the room I was supposed to be in up ahead. If I could just make it there and get inside a little early, maybe no one would be in yet. I looked around and saw a clock on the wall.12:47 p.m.I must’ve walked faster than I thought.
From where I stood, the room looked empty. The hallway was chaotic—people moving in both directions, the steady stream of motion making me dizzy. I hunched my shoulders and made a quick jolt toward the doorway, slipping inside.
