I leave school early and ride up to the lookout to spend the afternoon sitting on my overhanging rock. The warm stone and the wind in my hair are calming. No one can see me cry up here.
There is a thought in my head becoming more regular. It’s the only thing giving me a sense of hope. I could end my life. If I wanted to. I have no idea how I would do it, but the option is there. I don’t have to hang around forever. I can always check out. I’m not going to. But I could.
When I get home there is a message on the answering machine from school regarding my attendance. I delete it. I go to school on Monday because I have history. For a brief moment during the day, I can pretend I’m normal and my world is not falling apart around me.
At lunch time, Emma suggests I hang out at her place after
