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The day has been overwhelming, and I need a break from the constant pain in my chest that Seth left behind.
As I settle on my bed and open my journal, I feel a sense of relief wash over me. Along with painting and singing, writing has always been one of my therapeutic outlets—a way to process my thoughts and emotions.
I pick up my pen and begin to write, letting my thoughts flow freely onto the page. I write about my fears and anxieties, hopes and dreams, and completing my GED while in the hospital. During my stay, I came to realize the importance of sticking to a daily routine. To manage my emotions better, I added weekly therapy sessions and allocated an hour every day for my hobbies. Our group sessions taught me the significance of spending time doing the things we love and finding joy in them. But they never mentioned how to deal with the boy next door who made your heart skip a beat and makes you want to be happy all the time. What happens when that joy is ripped away from you?
Today was not as bad as I thought it would be. But the burning ache in my heart from losing Seth still lingers in my chest like a nasty virus. No medicine can cure the infection that worsens as the days go by.
I shake the thoughts from my head and take a deep breath. As I write, I feel the weight of the world gradually lift from my shoulders. Putting pen to paper is like a form of meditation, a way to quiet the noise in my mind and find inner peace. Hours pass as I write, lost in my thoughts and feelings. My eyes begin to get tired and sleepy. I rub my eyes and close my journal. After completing my nightly routine, I crawl into bed and feel the weight of the day finally catch up to me. But for the first time in a long time, I feel a glimmer of hope. Today wasn't perfect, but it was a step in the right direction, and that is enough for now.
EIGHTEEN
MAVERICK, AGE 23
The cramped interior of my trailer could barely contain the weight of my guilt as my mother's text came through, informing me that Scar was being discharged from the hospital. Despite the miles separating us, I couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse tugging at my heartstrings, knowing I wasn't there to support her in person.
The image of her lying on the bathroom floor will forever haunt me. I froze as I watched her life drain out in slow motion. That night broke me in ways that I thought I would never recover from.
The unbearable pain.
The anger.
The strong urge to crawl into her mind to find out what she was thinking as she grabbed the razor blade. Then I would go down to her heart tofeelwhat she was feeling at that very moment. I hated seeing her struggle while grieving the loss of her brother.
We were inseparable as kids—me, Seth, and Scar. Guilt gnaws its way into my heart thinking of Scar alone. When Seth passed away, I knew that things would never be the same. Olivia said she stopped taking her medication and spiraled out of control, which led to her attempt to take her own life.
When she told me to fuck off at the Funeral, I felt like she grabbed my heart and ripped it out of my chest and stomped all over it. I don’t know what I would do without Scar living in this world. It’s bad enough I lost Seth. I couldn’t survive if I lost Scar, too.
When she was admitted to the hospital, I tried to contact her, but she never accepted me as a visitor or took my calls, and my letters were all returned. With the agony coursing through my veins, she might as well have plunged a knife into my heart, ripping it into shreds. Scar doesn’t realize how much she means to me. The idea of flying back home and forcing my way back into her life had crossed my mind.
A sudden knock startles me. Glancing at the clock on my computer, I see that it's already 4:50 PM. I have to be ready for my scene in ten minutes.
"Jace! Be ready in ten!" Jolene, the production assistant, shouts through the door.
"Alright, thanks!" I holler. I grab my phone and send a quick message to Mom.
Maverick
Thanks for letting me know.
I shut down my laptop, and my eyes glimpse the photo frame on my desk. The picture captures a moment from our summer trip to Florida, where Scar and Seth were laughing and drenched from parasailing. It's one of my favorites because of how innocent and carefree Scar looked. That week was the best week of our lives. Scar had zero episodes, and it was the first time in a long time that I saw a genuine smile on her face. It was like the unbearable weight of the world was lifted off her shoulders, and she could breathe freely again.
I miss the days when she was so excited to see or be around me. Those days seem gone, and I'm left with a sense of unease and uncertainty about our relationship. I miss the way she looked at me like I was her favorite person and how she used to laugh at my jokes.
I miss her.
I miss our friendship.
I want to do everything I can to repair what has been broken between us and find our way back to each other.
NINETEEN
FLASHBACK
MAVERICK, AGE 12
The setting sun cast a warm orange glow on the front porch where I sat waiting. I had been counting down the days until Scar returned from music camp. I missed her terribly and couldn't wait to see her and give her the gift I had been holding onto for weeks.
I knew Scar would have a great time at music camp, but I couldn't shake the feeling of missing my best friend. But now, after what felt like an eternity, the moment had finally arrived.
