Reasons To Live - Sara Khalil (room on the broom read aloud .TXT) 📗

"Hi, how are you?" She smiles.
"Hey, I'm good." I smile. And so begins the embarrassing hour long session of me complaining about my problems that all seem to draw back to the same person, perfect innocent Daddy.


Therapy always makes me depressed after, I'm not sure why. It seems like I don't get enough of it. I only get an hour a session and a session 3 - 5 times a month. Yes you read that correctly, 3-5 times a month.
As I wait outside in the rain for my Mom to pick me up, I feel my legs burn and I want to check them, make sure they're still there. Make sure my feelings don't disappear, leaving me an empty shell of a person. As I see my Mom pull up to the curb in her gray Suburban, I dash out and count the minutes it takes for me to get home.


I'm finally home in my room, wet from the rain. I want to take a shower, especially since I'm already wet. So that's what I do. But instead of going into the shower right away, I strip down to just my underwear and bra. And I stare at my feelings. They show pain with angry red jagged lines. I smile, and think to myself; This is what's going inside of you. Isn't that beautiful?
This is my pain, maybe it really is that simple after all. I smile once more at my reflection as a single tear drop falls from my deep brown eyes, a mascara tainted tear. A black tear. It lands on my right thigh, on one of the angry lines and I laugh. I find this amusing how both sources of my pain are drawn together, like they belong there. And just to add a third pain to the party, I open up the medicine cabinet and pop a few Ibuprofen. Pretty soon, black tainted tears are everywhere. And they wont stop. So I climb in the shower and wash all my problems away, a black tainted stream leading down the drain. When I get out I look in the mirror and see back tracks down my cheeks. Always there, but never seen. Just like me . . .

Chapter Five: The End

I hear banging drums.

My heart beats fast . . . I'm running. I don't know from what, I can't remember. Sweat taints my forehead as I concentrate on getting away from It. The drums beat faster, harder. Shouts of pain and screams of terror fill the black sky above. Black rain drops beat on the back of my head and neck. I realize that the shouts and screams are coming from me and as soon as the thought crosses my mind, I'm plunging into an seemingly endless dark pit, made of my heart. Jagged points and edges stab into my thighs and arms, I feel the blood drip down my body. I scream, loud and piercing. It wont stop. I want it to stop. Just Stop!


I wake up breathing hard, tears covering my face. I silently sit up in bed, looking at my alarm clock. It flashes 12:00-am, and I know that the electricity must've turned off or something. I can't sleep after that. I just stare blankly at my wall, the color barely noticeable in the dimly moon lit room. Now what?


I don't call Marcus, months go by, soon a year. I barely go out, bruises tainting almost every surface of my body. I'm scared. Scared he wont want anything to do with me once he knows how royally messed up I am, scared he'll think I'm a freak, and scared out of my mind about falling in love. But finally, I talk myself into calling him. The phone rings . . . . he answers.
"Hey, Marcus?" I asked the voice on the other line.
"Kaitlyn, is that you?" Marcus asked, completely surprised.
"Yeah . . . I know this is kind of sudden and you probably wont want to, but do you possibly wanna meet up? or something?" I ask, my heart clenching, waiting for his response.
"Ya know, making me wait for a year wasn't exactly what I would call thoughtful." He said, with a slight smile in his voice, mixed with something else.
"Sorry about that. So is that a yes or a no?" I ask, laughing a little.
"It's not a yes --"
My heart deflated, tears starting to fill my eyes instantly.
"It's a hell yes." Marcus said, after a minute of me not saying anything.
I smile at the phone and we hang up. Walking to my room so I can change into something pretty, I feel a tingle, deep in my stomach. Excitement deep in my heart. I went straight to my bathroom grabbing all my pills, flushing them down the toilet. Its like I saw a light at the end of my tunnel for the first time in my life, it was surreal.
I was finished changing and I walked through the front door. A new me, finally, I could be the person I wanted to be. Marcus was the first person to say my name directly in over five years. It felt strange, yet right. I was finally happy.

Whatever that meant . . .

The End

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Publication Date: 07-08-2010

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