Canary (28 page)

www.allmytruths.com

Today's Truth:

Beacon does not welcome you anymore.

I am a fish.

I swim around in a giant fishbowl while everyone watches through the glass.

Their eyes are huge and bulging, warped by the water, faces distorted like fun house characters in mirrors.

Bodies blocking the hallway, faces laughing.

Fingers pointing.

Eyes locked on me.

Everyone watches as I walk through the halls.

Alone.

I'm scared for class to end.

For the bell to shriek my inevitable doom.

I sit in class willing the minute hand to slow down.

But it never does.

Isn't that how it works?

The moment you dread is right in front of you before you know it.

The halls are the worst.

I keep my head down so I don't see anyone as I swim down the hallways.

But I can still hear them.

The words tug at my ears.

Whispers dance around me at night, blowing their harsh winds into my dreams.

Closing my eyes at night only invites their words to visit me in sleep.

The boys press against me in the halls.

Pretending to stumble and grab me from behind as I push through them.

It makes me sick.

Their hot breath against my ear:

“Now that Jack's done with you, and Luke's used you, let's see how the coach's daughter can play off the courts . . .”

And the girls.

Standing against their lockers.

Identical Barbies stepping back from me with disgust.

Ali and Jenna looking at me with revulsion.

Perfect on the outside, but I can see the fear inside.

Afraid.

Afraid to speak up because they may be the new victims.

The one singled out for the next attack.

I want to scream.

I want to stand in the middle of the room and shout at the top of my lungs,

“You don't scare me. I'm stronger than that. Look at me. Look at me for who I am.”

But I don't.

Because they won't.

My mouth opens and closes. Silent bubbles float up with words I wish I could say.

And I lower my head and continue down the hallway as the thunder roars around me in silence.

In silence.

In silence . . .

Posted By: Your Present Self

[Thursday, January 2, 7:31 AM]

Beacon welcomed everyone back from winter break with a pep rally. The boys stood in front of the cheering school, and Dad talked about how great they all were. I swear I saw their heads swelling with each word that came out of his mouth.

“Thank you for your enthusiasm,” Dad said and grinned in front of the microphone. “We all appreciate it, especially my boys here.”

He gestured toward the team, and everyone went crazy. Stomps shook the bleachers, and shrill whistles and catcalls pierced the air. I was standing next to Julia, who had met me at my locker so we could walk to the gym together. The pep rally was mandatory, but how do you force someone to have pep? I had no doubt Brett skipped out on it; he'd take any punishment before he'd support the team. I wished I had made the same choice.

The crowd quieted, and Dad started speaking again.

“We're more than halfway through the season, and no one can stop us yet. If I made a guess, I'd say no one will be able to beat us this season. Now I'd like to celebrate some of the statistics from your Beacon basketball team.”

Dad started to list points earned, free throws made, rebounds, and a bunch of other accolades that made everyone cheer and cheer for the team. Luke grinned when his name was called. The students around me screamed and clapped for him, and when Dad placed his hand on Luke's shoulder and beamed at him, I knew for sure Dad had placed the basketball team over me.

I couldn't decide what made me sicker: what Luke had tried to do to me or what Dad had chosen to do about it.

Julia was my savior at Beacon. She welcomed me back to the usual table, and we talked about everything but what had happened. Brett sometimes sat with us, and I liked that. The two of us didn't push each other to talk, and it was okay. It was easy to see things through Brett's eyes now. I understood why he hated Beacon so much, and I did everything possible to remove myself as well.

I started to slip into the bathroom between periods and arrive to class right when the bell rang. That way I didn't need to listen to the whispered comments directed at me and learn exactly how nasty they all thought I was. I'd stand in front of the bathroom mirrors with the top of my shirt pulled down, staring at my bruise, which had become a giant blob, ugly and bold on my chest, ensuring I'd never forget.

Today, the door to the bathroom swung open, and I let go of my shirt. It was Jenna. I pulled it up quickly so the bruise was covered.

“Hey,” I said, figuring it was better to acknowledge her than not saying anything. I reached for the faucet. I turned the right knob and stuck my hands under the water as if everything was perfectly normal.

She didn't turn on her water. Instead, she met my eyes in the mirror. “I shouldn't be talking to you. Ali would kill me.”

Jenna's words stung, but I didn't doubt what she was saying. Ali was a bitch. She probably would go after her if she saw the two of us together.

I stared at a piece of paper towel that clung to the edge of the sink and thought about how unfair it was that Ali controlled Jenna too. She was my friend, and I hadn't done anything to hurt her.

“I understand why Ali's mad at me, but why are you a part of it?” I said.

“I can't be on both sides.”

“Why not? Why can't you make your own choices?”

Jenna ignored my question and leaned close to me. “I'm going to tell you something, but if you ask me to repeat it, I'll deny it. Okay?”

I nodded, wondering what I was agreeing to.

“Ali is my friend, and we're going to stay friends. But what happened with Luke was messed up.” She paused as if waiting for me to say something.

I didn't.

What Luke did was beyond messed up. I already knew that, and why should I care what she thought, if she was going to ignore me as soon as we stepped outside?

I pumped the soap dispenser slowly: one, two, three, four, willing her to stop. To disappear. I
focused on the sudsy mess in my hands.

“It wasn't your fault,” Jenna said as she reached over for the same soap dispenser. “What happened to you. I know you didn't do it.”

“Of course I didn't,” I told her and laughed. “Why would I ever do something like that?”

I knew she was trying to meet my eyes again as she moved away from the sink and yanked out papers towels. I scrubbed my hands under the water. It was hot. Too hot. My hands turned red, but I didn't turn it off. I didn't want to silence the rush of water blocking out the roaring in my ears.

I tried to ignore her, but she wouldn't let me.

I turned off the water. She thrust some towels in my hands, forcing me to look into her face.

“How did you feel that night?” she asked.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was getting at, and I wasn't about to play into this sick game she and Ali had concocted. “Whatever Ali's saying about how drunk I was is a lie.”

“That's not what I'm asking.”

I shrugged. “You want to know how I felt? Messed up. But I wasn't. There was no way.”

“What did you drink?”

I closed my eyes and held them shut for a moment before opening them. “I can't do this. I'm done with this conversation. I don't need you to interrogate me.”

“Was Luke ever around you when you were drinking?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I think Luke put something in your drink.”

“No,” I said, but I wasn't so sure.

“I heard him talking about the stuff a few weeks ago. He was asking Nick Sateen about getting him some weird shit called liquid ecstasy. Nick just laughed, so I figured it never happened.”

I remembered the beer Luke had given me, the one he'd insisted on pouring into a glass, and my whole body shuddered. “What the hell, Jenna? Why wouldn't you say something?”

“I didn't know he was going to toss it into your drink. I figured it was some nasty habit he did by himself. But then I started thinking about everything, and I don't know; it kind of makes sense.”

“It makes complete sense,” I told her. I remembered how sick I'd felt after the beer from Luke and the haze and heaviness that followed. I wasn't stupid. I'd learned about drugs like that in health class. My teacher tried to scare us away from drinking with stories about date rape drugs. “That bastard.”

“We always knew he was a creep,” Jenna said, and for a minute it was like it used to be, when the two of us were friends.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, reminding myself we weren't friends. Jenna had ignored me like everyone else. She supported Ali, and I knew if it came down to it, she'd do whatever she had to to step up to Ali's defense.

“I just couldn't believe you'd hook up with Luke.”

“Thanks,” I said, relieved Jenna believed me.

We both jumped as the door swung open and a girl talking on her cell phone walked in.

“I need to go,” Jenna said. “It sucks what happened. Luke is a pig.”

I started to follow her out, but she stopped.

“This doesn't change things. I'm on Ali's side,” she said. “She's my friend. She's been my friend forever. I'm not going to ruin that. I just thought you should know about Luke.”

She pushed the door open and headed into the hallway. Jenna had been right about one thing: the lines were being drawn, and she'd made her choice very clear.

I leaned against the sink and looked at my reflection.

Luke had known what he was going to do to me.

Maybe I wasn't the specific target he had in mind, but I'd certainly let myself become the easiest. He gave me that drink with the purpose of finding me later to have sex. He planned everything, and I'd given in to Dad's pleas for my silence and let him protect Luke. I pushed open the door to a stall and threw up in the toilet.

I moved through the school for the rest of the day with a warped kind of confidence. I didn't do anything wrong that night, and Jenna's speculations destroyed any doubt I had about my role in what Luke tried to do to me. What had happened wasn't my fault. I wasn't to blame.

www.allmytruths.com

Today's Truth:

You can only keep things inside for so long before they start to

destroy you.

In history class we learned how canaries were used in coal mines to warn miners of dangerous gases. 

A canary was lowered into the deep, dark bowels of the mines. If a bird was pulled back up alive, the miners knew it was safe to go down. 

If it died, the bird was sacrificed, an early warning saving the lives of the miners. 

The miners also brought the birds with them. A canary sang and sang, and if the bird stopped singing, the miners would evacuate. The bird was more sensitive to the harmful gases, and the miners would have enough time to get out safely. The bird, however, usually didn't. 

I imagine the birds doing what was natural and having that used against them. Their tiny lungs that sang were what ultimately destroyed them. 

I think about the canaries and how their purpose for the miners was to breathe in the air until it got too toxic and killed them. 

I think about this as I replay Dad's words in my head.

I have been silent, as Dad demanded of me. Each night before I go to bed, I think about what Luke did and what Dad didn't do. I think about how Jack hasn't cared, how he moved on without a second thought of me. I think about all these things, and I stay quiet. I push it deep down inside, and for now I'm still alive. 

But I wonder how many dirty fumes I'll continue to ingest before I sing my last song, before I can't go down any deeper with the secrets I know. 

Posted by: Your Present Self

[Tuesday, January 7, 8:03 PM]

I started to do whatever I could to avoid going home. I'd catch the bus and ride it around the city until night filled the sky. Some afternoons I'd end up at the library, sitting in the stacks on the third floor away from everyone. Other days I'd wander around the mall a few towns over, a mall far enough away that I wouldn't run into people from Beacon.

Today I got off the bus four blocks from the hospice where Mom stayed. The weather was cold, and the sky loomed gray above it. We had only known the place when it was warm and sunny. Today, with the windows sealed shut and the grounds muddy from melted snow, it reminded me of somewhere a person would go to die.

I went through a back fence, pulling myself over it to get to the path I used to walk with Mom. I followed it deep into the woods until I got to the lake she had loved. Parts of it were frozen, while other sections broke off in jagged holes, and I could see water glistening under it. I found a rock and sat, the wet earth soaking through my jeans.

I wondered how Mom would have reacted if I told her about Luke. I imagined her clenching her jaw and closing her eyes, taking a deep breath before she opened them again. That's what she used to do when the pain got too bad. She thought she hid it from Brett and me, but we knew. I pictured her doing the same thing when I told her about Luke; she'd react different from Dad. When she spoke, she wouldn't ask me to stay quiet. She wouldn't fill me with lies about how she'd handle everything and make me feel as if it would all be safe and okay. She'd make sure Luke would never do anything to me again. She'd fight for me and make sure everyone knew how I'd been hurt. She would have done what was right.