You had better live it up while you can, because I am coming for you, and you are going to die. If I’m going to be locked up, I am going to make it count (laughing) that’s if they can catch me. (pause) Sweet dreams now. I hear I am all you dream about.”
I hit number seven without thinking to delete the message, as if it will delete him. My heart is pounding. I drop the phone and wrap my arms around myself and start sobbing, rocking back and forth in shock. I think now only of the razor blade I have hidden in my bathroom. I can end it all. I can stop all of the pain, the fear, the torment; all I have to do is go get it. I know it now. I am insane. I cry so hard I fall asleep before I can go to the bathroom and look for that razor. I have lived one more night… but I couldn’t promise myself I would make it through tomorrow.
Chapter 3
Healing
I spend the next few weeks in more therapy. Gran found that razor I had hidden the very next morning. She said she had a glimpse of what I was thinking in a dream after she left my room. The very next morning she marched into my bathroom got the razor, grabbed my wrist (I’d been hiding the bandage under long sleeve shirts), pulled back my shirtsleeve, and saw the band-aid. I would never forget the look on her face. It was the same one she had the night before when she spoke of my mom and her death. I was taken downstairs where she told my dad.
I was thankful Sara was out shopping as she usually was. Dad called my therapist and I was basically on suicide watch now. I was never alone for three weeks strait and my therapist upped my all medications. I stayed in a haze until I got Dad to let me take my own pills. I began to cut them in half so I could feel half as numb as I had been. I didn’t even know where I was most of the time, before that.
I felt suffocated as Gram slept in a pullout cot in my room. She waited for me outside the bathroom as I showered or did anything with the door closed. I had overheard Dad and Sara one night arguing about sending me to a special hospital (code for nut house). Thankfully, Dad said no way in heck. He was working with my doctors to keep me home, unless I tried to hurt myself again. Honestly, I wasn’t thinking about that much anymore.
Sara argued if people found out about all my problems, it would tarnish our family name; so typical of her. She also mentioned people at the country club were talking about me. Sara was more worried I would never get a date or marry well, if the truth about my mental condition was known. I knew they all meant well…maybe even Sara in her own twisted way. They were only trying to save me from myself. I had officially become my own worst enemy.
I was doing better, a few months had passed and Todd was still on house arrest, but he had not called me since the night after Gram’s vision. Dad’s lawyer was working on getting a trial date, since my blood work did show high levels of a date rape drug. It would only be a month or two more before the court date was set. I only hated the idea of going up in front of a jury and re living that horrible night all over again. Two other girls were also set to testify against Todd. I hadn’t heard what he did to them, but I was sure I would very soon.
Also, Mr. Perfect (the one Gran had seen in her visions) had not shown his mysterious face yet (thank God). I was starting to relax a little knowing if Todd stepped an inch out of his house the cops would be all over him. Dad also hired a security team to watch the house at all times. I was getting used to seeing them walk the area around our house, and I even knew most of them by name.
I was still in therapy, only two days a week now and I was taking less of my medication. I had noticed I was still very tired almost all the time.