"Olivia, I know. I know about your eating habits. You cannot live your life like this." I
said.
"Like what? I'm fine.” she said.
"Olivia! Stop it! I know you have an eating disorder. You never eat. You need
to eat, Olivia, you're sick." I said. I could feel the tears welling up in the back of my
eyes.
She shook my hand off her. "I'm fine." she said.
She walked away and didn't talk to me the rest of the day. I felt the
uncontrollable need to cut. I had one chance.
Art class came around at about 2:30. The teacher asked me to go get some
scissors from the storage room. I told her I would, and then set off across the school.
I made it a quick trip, so I could "borrow" a pair and sneak off to the bathroom. I sat
in the stall and pulled up my sleeve. I cut my arm twice, and wrapped some toilet
paper around the two cuts. I hurried back to class and pretended nothing happened.
I went home and cut a few times, and then my phone rang. I grabbed some
Kleenex to cover the wound and looked at the Caller ID. It was Olivia.
"Hello?" I asked calmly.
It was Olivia's mom.
"Kersey, please come quick. Olivia passed out... something's seriously
wrong! She's at the hospital, please come quickly!" She practically screamed into
my ear. She hung up. I had to go, Olivia's mom was a single parent, and she and I
were as good of friends as Olivia and I were.
I ran downstairs and grabbed my jacket.
"Mom, Olivia's in the hospital. I need a ride over their NOW." I said
demandingly. She looked at me. I could see the fear. She knew how close we were.
She drove, practically driving over the speed limit, to the St. Josephine
hospital, about a fifteen-minute drive from my house. She kept looking over at me,
expecting me to tell her what happened. Finally she just asked.
"What happened to her?" she asked, putting her hand on my knee. Again,
people touching me? I didn't want to talk about it. I knew what it was, but I also knew
that if I opened my mouth to talk about it, I would begin crying.
"She's anor--" I cut off. I couldn't say it. I didn't want it to be true. "Anorexic." I
sputtered, looking out the window so she couldn't see me cry. The tears slowly
spilled out the corners of my eyes, like little waterfalls. I closed my eyes and
swallowed hard. Olivia's mom couldn't see me crying. I wiped the tears onto my
sleeves and looked at the small stain. More tears began pouring out of my eyes. I
couldn't help but think this was my entire fault. Olivia had warned me not to cut
anymore. And I did. Now she was dying.
My face burned with the warm tears that kept coming. We finally reached the
parking lot and I ran out of the car. I ran into the cool and calm lobby, everyone
looking at me. 'The poor, poor, fat girl who cuts herself...' the voices said to me. I
shook my head, trying to make the tiny voices go away and then walked up to the
nurse at the desk.
"Olivia Holmes room, please." I said, impatiently tapping my fingers on the
desk.
"Room 269." she said in a cheery voice. I rolled my eyes at her and ran to the
nearest elevator.
"Come on... come on!" I said, pounding the little white up button. Finally it
opened.
Once I got to Olivia's room, her mom came over and hugged me.
"She's so, so sick, Kersey." she said, holding my hands and looking at me
with her red, teary eyes. I looked back at her, and I couldn't help it, but the tears fell
anyway. She was the only person who I let touch me.
I walked over to Olivia's bedside.
"Olivia? Can you hear me?" I said, touching her soft, blonde hair. She was
not responding. She had tubes hooked up to her here and there, and she was on
some sort of breathing machine. As mean as it sounds, I couldn't stand looking at
her that way.
I sat in the chair closest to the window and looked out. Tears were streaming
down my cheeks. I couldn't be here. I told Olivia's mom I had to leave and told her to
call me later if she needed. I walked out in the hall and began walking home.
I walked slowly, a few random tears leaked out of my eyes. I thought about
Olivia and what would happen. If she did survive she would go to a freak house like I
did. I prayed for her. I have never been to church, but I really prayed.
I got home and my face was red and puffy. I went to my room and went to
bed.
I woke up the next morning and decided to skip school and go see Olivia. I
took the bus to the store and bought her some flowers. When I finally got there, I tried
to stay calm as I entered her room. I saw her lying in her bed, still unresponsive. I set
the flowers on her table and sat next to her.
"Hi Livvie." I said, for the first time in years calling her by her childhood name.
Her mom walked in and gave me a hug. She then told me exactly what I didn't want
to hear. She was getting worse. They had a feeding tube in but it was totally useless
because Olivia had lost so many of the needed nutrients in her body and most of her
organs were beginning to quit.
I broke down again. This couldn’t be happening. I went over to the window
again and rested my head on the cool glass. Tears streamed down my face again,
and I felt as if God didn’t care about me. I wiped my eyes and swallowed hard and
turned around.
Her heart rate monitor started beeping slower and slower. I looked at Olivia’s
mom and she was turning pale. The paged the nurse and went over to Olivia.
“Come on, baby girl. Come on.” She said rubbing Olivia’s hair. I watched in
horror as the nurses ran in and checked her pulse.
“We’re losing her!” One of the nurses yelled to another. They started CPR;
they did everything thinkable to poor Olivia. Her mom came over to me crying and
hugged me.
“I can’t watch.” She whispered as she hugged me. I didn’t want to watch
either. They pounded on her, trying to get her back.
“STOP!” I screamed, pushing them away. “You’re hurting her.” I whispered as
I walked over to her. I ran my fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead. I
crawled onto the bed next to her as she slowly drifted out of our lives.
Olivia’s mom had to call my mom to come and get me. She came and pulled
my reluctant self out of Olivia’s bed. I was still crying and I just let my mom take me
home. I went home and went to my room and cried. God hated me, I knew he did. I
pulled out the scissors and cut my leg. I cut it 3 times because I was so angry. There
was blood everywhere, but I was happy. I had no use in this world.
I went to school the next day, due to my mother who threatened to send me
away because I was uncooperative. Jeremy came up to me and put his arm around
my shoulder. I was to depressed to shake it off.
“I heard what happened, Kersey. I’m so sorry. I know how close you were to
her.” He said. I knew he was sad. He loved me like a sister and we practically knew
what the other was thinking.
“It’s hard.” I said. I didn’t want to talk about it. Please Jeremy, anything but
this.
He must have understood me. He was headed to English and I was heading
to gym. We came to our departure point and he turned to face me.
“Kersey, I’m here for you, okay? She was as much my friend as she was
yours.” He smiled at me. “I love you, Kersey.” He said, kissing my cheek. He went
into his classroom and left me there, bewildered by what just happened.
I decided to pretend I had forgotten my gym clothes so I didn’t have to
participate. A few people came up to me and told me how sorry they were, but they
didn’t know. They probably thought, oh, how sad, I should feel bad for her, but I really
didn’t care about anyone else.
Class ended and I slowly got up off the bleachers. I grabbed my bag and
went to meet Jeremy outside the English room. I looked at him and smiled. For the
first time since Olivia passed, I smiled.