She Will Be Loved

Will her dark past ever allow Savannah any peace of mind?

                It was dark. Why was it always dark? Why could she never see the light? Or was she so damned to remain in the darkness forever?

                A neigh broke through the stillness. She blinked her eyes. She was moving. She felt herself swing in the familiar walk, feeling her hips sway in that deeply ingrained way. She heard the creak of leather underneath her, keeping time. Creak, creak, creak. The clopping of hooves on a hard surface, known to her as a frozen path traversed late on a November evening. It matched the drumming of her heart against her rib cage. She felt the reins tight in her sweaty palms, receiving the chill wind that blew invisibly past her. Her legs gripped the sides of a living, breathing- She should’ve brought gloves. Her hands were cold already. Why was she so stupid as to forget that small detail?

                A horse neighed in front of her, and she froze. She heard a soft, soothing voice whisper endearments, and it seemed as if the darkness receded to let her see- No! No, she didn’t want to see it! Don’t show me, don’t show me-!

                Too late.

                She felt herself lose control of her body. She felt her mouth form that once comforting clicking noise, felt the horse underneath her speed up in response, its ears flicking back to acknowledge her demands. The horse (was it her Lacey?) trotted to catch with that all too well-known figure, her body rising and falling in the posting trot, then sitting deeper to slow the horse down to a walk as they drew up alongside to the other.

                She was screaming in her head. It was the only thing she could do. No! Don’t show me! Don’t let me see her! But it was out of her control, always had been.

                The figure turned to her, and the gentle, simple smile she saw there was more than she could bear. Why?!

                But a part of her wanted to see that face, wanted to lay eyes on that once living visage. So well loved, her mother appeared to her, as she always had been, when she was alive. Her mother had clear sun-browned skin from working outside all day long, no matter what the weather, whether it was raining or snowing, light or dark. It was quite cool now, and her thin lips were chapped bright red, her cheeks rosy. Her green, faraway eyes sparkled and danced with a light of their own. Her aquiline nose was red and runny from a cold she had been trying to get over. Her gray-green eyes danced in the dying light as she looked at her, her eyes seeming to see her and see beyond her all at once. Her flyaway brown hairy was frizzy and unmanageable, pulled back by a scruffy scrunchy underneath a gray woolen hat. It had been her favorite. Her mom’s parka sshhed as she turned to face her with that smile.

                “Hey Sav. You keeping up okay?” her mom’s voice filled the void, and she felt like screaming and crying all at once as she heard that sound once more. But she knew it was coming. And she couldn’t stop it. That was why she hated and loved seeing her mom again.

                “I’m okay, mom,” she said, her voice soft. The sky was darkening around them in the still, leafless wood they walked the horses through. Beyond the branches, she could see clouds gathering on the horizon. “Aren’t we due for a storm tonight? Maybe we should head back in.”

                Her mother was facing front again, running a gloved hand down her mount’s neck reassuringly. “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about. We’ll be in before it breaks.” She changed the subject. “Do you want to trot the horses now? I’m sure Lacey and Butternut wouldn’t mind a nice stretch.”

                “Sure,” she replied, the words automatically slipping out of her mouth, as if she’d said them a hundred times before. She clucked her tongue and rose in her seat, urging Lacey into a trot. Her mother kept pace quietly, concentrating on the terrain ahead of her. She kept an eye on her mother, feeling some unconscious danger approaching.

                They trotted on in silence for a while, then her mother surged ahead in a canter, her touch light on the reins, her seat deep and in balance. She urged Lacey to catch up, though not in such a smooth manner. Her body was smaller, though her muscles were strong and well accustomed from years in the saddle. She clucked loudly and dug her heels in, giving Lacey more of a head. Lacey was always a bit headstrong, and now dashed ahead, nearly galloping to match paces with Butternut. She had to pull on the reins a bit to make Lacey settle. Her mother looked over and smiled encouragingly. She smiled back, a bit of Lacey’s restlessness affecting her. She called out on impulse, “I’ll race you to that tree, the large  twisted one at the bottom of the hill!”

                “Alright,” her mom called, already racing away, Butternut’s silky cream tail flashing in the encroaching darkness like a mock banner of surrender to Lacey and her. She let Lacey have her head, knowing the mare would draw alongside and then fly past Butternut. Lacey flung her head in eager anticipation, surging into a full-fledged gallop that ate at the ground with her long strides. She crouched low along Lacey’s neck, feeling her heat as she gave it her all, the wind whipping Lacey’s mane into her face. Lacey was the fastest mare they had at the Hennybrook Ranch, probably because she was part Thoroughbred, and those were some fast racehorses. Without a doubt, they would win this race for sure.

                Soon enough, Butternut’s whipping tail could be seen just up ahead in her sight. Lacey, goaded on by the mirage-like image, dug her heels into the hard, frozen ground and pulled up alongside Butternut. She flashed her mom a grin, and then let Lacey have her head. It was all her now. They flew as if on wings past Butternut, and she let out a stray whoop as the tree came into sight.

                Suddenly, unexpectedly, there was a flash of lightning that seemed to alight close to her, booming and cracking, like a thunderclap, but from where, she was not sure. Rain began to pour as if someone had just opened a dam to let all the water out. She was soaked through in less than a minute. There was another blinding flash, louder than the howling wind, this time right behind her, causing Lacey to balk and careen to the left. Lacey suddenly reared up onto her hind legs, and she hung on, trying to bring Lacey back under her control. She pulled on the reins, settling her back to the ground, and used her left leg with all her might to turn Lacey around. She saw her mom suddenly race out of the darkness, clinging to Butternut for dear life. Both their eyes were wide with fright and panic. Her mom’s mouth was open in a wordless scream, and her eyes conveyed a silent plea for help that she just could not voice. Butternut rolled her eyes at Lacey and ran pell-mell towards the old gnarled tree, the one they had been racing for.

                Lacey was still skittish, nervously pacing and neighing in anxiety. She kept a strong handle on the reins, but was as shaken and fearful as Lacey. Taking a moment to find her bearings, she turned Lacey around again and urged her into a canter, after her mother and Butternut. What sun there had been was now hidden completely by dark clouds that obliterated all other light, and the only way she could see anything was from the brief flashes of lightning that alighted to earth.

                Suddenly, there was a large cracking noise that echoed across what seemed an endless distance. Time seemed to slow around her as she watched a bolt of lightning rip a jagged hole in the sky and then snap outwards, like a crocodile’s jaws, crush the tree trunk, splitting it into two clean halves, like a broken bone. Right in front of the lightning strike were Butternut and her mother. They looked washed out and unreal, like phantoms forced to reenact their deaths with no peace. Butternut reared up on her hind legs, shrieking and squealing in a blind panic as the tree broke in two. She heard her mother’s voice as if through a thick fog, high and distant, unreal.

                “Savanna!” 

                “MOM!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. But it was too late. Even as Lacey strained to close the distance between them, it was too late. She was forced to watch as the severed tree trunk came crashing down upon her mother and Butternut. She saw her mom grapple vainly with the branches, the reins somehow tangling her hands, Butternut’s white eyes as she rolled and squealed and finally fell under the weight of the tree. She watched as the branches clung to her mother, caged her and trapped her until she fell to the ground, and then she was no longer visible as the lightning winked out of existence. She heard a high keening noise that hurt her ears, and then she belatedly realized it was her voice, her screams and cries of anguish melding with the howls and moans of the wind as it whooshed through the lifeless branches of the woods like a demon let loose upon the world.

                She saw as they finally drew closer a hand poking through the branches, gloveless, and the mingled manes of her mother and Butternut tangled in the branches and- She wanted to scream! Her mother couldn’t be dead! No! It just wasn’t possible!

                Suddenly, the darkness began to draw itself up and around hr, blanketing her mother and Butternut from sight. It was coming for her! Vainly, she reached out to her mother. Wait for me! You’re not dead! Wait for me! But she could feel herself falling away from it all. She tried to grab at Lacey, her mane, the reins-!

                She screamed as the darkness surrounded her, muffled her, tangled her in its invisible webs. No!!! Mom! ... 

               

                “Mom, mom… Mom!” It came as a shout, startling Savanna out of her nightmare. She sat up suddenly, wrestling with the sheets of her bed, kicking them away until she was free. Belatedly, she realized there was carpeting under her hands and bare feet, not a soft mattress as she expected. She’d fallen to the floor.

                “Ugh…” she moaned, holding a hand to her head. Another headache. She got them all the time, ever since her mom had died. It was hopeless, trying to wish them away, as hopeless as wishing her mom was still alive. They always seemed to get worse the longer she fretted over them. Even the Advil wasn’t helping now. She felt herself shaking, and clasped her hands together tightly. It was just a dumb dream that was all. Just a stupid, f*****g nightmare…

                “I need a drink or something,” she mumbled, trying to grab a hold of her bed. She tried focusing, but her vision was blurry, and she couldn’t really see where her hand was going. “S**t,” she muttered when she felt her hand push something off her bedside table. Grasping it, she staggered upwards to her feet, swaying as her vision spun. She waited for a minute for her vertigo to ease, and then slowly headed over to her closet, hanging onto whatever solid object she could find. She pulled open the door, causing it to slam against a wall, then stumbled to her knees, digging through her shoes and other crap, like fallen shirts and old papers, before she finally uncovered an unassuming shoebox filled with what looked like a bunch of tissue paper. Removing the white stuff, though, revealed an orange bottle of prescription Valium. She took it to her bed, stumbling and tripping over the crap that lay on her floor, stuff she never bothered to put away, dragging her sheets with her. Lying down heavily, she clutched the Valium tablets tightly to her chest, closing her eyes to stop the dizziness.

                Why do I have to get so f*****g dizzy? It f*****g sucks. Ugh, f**k this s**t… she thought to herself as she fumbled with the cap, finally managing to pour some tablets into her hand. She didn’t know how much, but it was usually enough to knock her out. Then she wouldn’t have the f*****g nightmare. She’d be out cold sooner than you could say “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

                She gulped them down quickly without a second thought, swallowing being like second nature to her. Already, she could feel the drug do its job as it quickly spread to every corner of her body, numbing her to everything else.

                God, this is so much better than living… And then she was out.

 

                Savanna awoke from a dead sleep to the sound of her alarm clock blaring Drowning Pool at top volume. Her eyes mere watery and crusty, and her hair a tangled rats’ nest, her body splayed in a weird position under the covers. Her muscles felt extremely sore and achy when she tried to move, but at least she hadn’t fallen out of bed this time. Best of all, her sleep had been dreamless. She’d been knocked into oblivion for a few hours so she could catch up on some sleep. Right now, though, it felt like she had barely gotten any sleep at all.

                                She moaned, pressing a hand to her skull. She felt like she was going through a double hangover. Maybe Valium wasn’t such a good thing to take with alcohol running itself out through her system? She’d had a ton at the party last nigh. Ugh, the party…

                She tried to recall something definite about it, but all she kept seeing was a blur of faces. She’d been plied with drink from a last night by a bunch of different people. Or at least she thought she had been. She’d probably helped herself more than once… How drunk had she been? She’d gone to the party with Lenora, or whatever her name was, and after they arrived they’d been injecting themselves with LSD, and maybe peyote? Or Clarity? It had a cool name like that or something… Then what had happened? Since she hurt in that area, she must’ve gotten laid by at least a few different people… There were a few guys in a group who had surrounded her and somehow led her off to a dark… bedroom? Walk-in closet? It’d been too dark to tell. And then there was that really cute girl with the curly hair, and she was wearing a lot of pink, or was she naked?

                Shaking her head to clear her jumbled thoughts, she slowly stretched her body until it was stiff and straight, arching her back high into the air, then slumped back down into a more lax position. She didn’t really feel like waking up right now. But she had to.

                She groaned. This was going to be a long day.

 

                Her father was already gone to his job as an accountant by the time Savanna managed to work her way downstairs. She at least wasn’t crashing into the walls or tumbling down the stairs head over heels. Maybe she had recovered a little?

                Savanna walked into the kitchen, crashing into a chair on her way to the fridge. The kitchen was way too f*****g small for barely three people to sit and eat comfortably without knocking elbows with one another. The old tile countertops and backsplash were a faded yellow with dirt and grime stuck in between the grout lines. The counters were cluttered with junk mail, dirty dishes, and whatever else they managed to dump on it. Household chores were usually left to Savanna because her dad worked late and barely had enough time to sleep before he had to start over again the next morning. The linoleum cracked beneath her bare feet as she roved around, opening and slamming the cupboards looking for a clean dish. Household chores were usually left to Savanna because her dad worked late and barely had enough time to sleep before he had to start over again the next morning. Sometimes her feet would stick to the floor in certain areas, which was certainly gross, but Savanna didn’t really care. She had gone past the feeling of hating it all when she’d first moved here anyway. Now, nothing seemed to matter to her anymore.

She found some leftover pancakes she’d made for dinner yesterday sitting in a plastic container in the fridge, and heated one up for the hell of it. Her stomach was growling, but she didn’t really care about it. She didn’t really feel that hungry anyway. She’d do anything for a drink right now.

Suddenly, she heard a knock from the kitchen door and saw her best friend peeking through a slit in the curtains with an impish grin on his face. Sighing, she waved him in, keeping her place at the counter by the microwave so he wouldn’t see how much she swayed when she stood still.  

                “Hey, Savanna,” he said, smoothly depositing his backpack and sitting down in a creaky wooden seat nearby where she stood. He looked behind her, sniffing the air appreciatively. “You making something in there? I hope you have enough for two!” He smiled brightly, getting up from the seat a moment later to circumnavigate his way around the too big, over-cluttered table to finally reach the fridge, where he found the pancakes. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, turning to face her with his prize. “I just forgot to eat breakfast on my way over here.”

                “It’s fine,” Savanna said disinterestedly, not really caring either way if he ate all or one of the pancakes. At least they’d be gone before they could grow some mold. She wouldn’t eat them all anyway. Suddenly, the microwave beeped behind her, and she turned around to get her food, a single, floppy looking pancake on a paper plate; the only really clean and convenient cutlery they had around was plastic. She took the pancake and just started eating it with her hands, nibbling at the edges.

                “So, what’s up?” Malachy asked as he resumed his seat after heating his pancakes up for thirty seconds, sprinkling honey and powdered sugar onto them, glancing over as he took a bite with a plastic knife and fork.

                Savanna went over to the fridge and got out some orange juice, pouring out two tall glasses for them both into some more plastic cups whose packaging looked to be acquiring dust and took a sip, but cringed at the bad taste it left in her mouth. Even brushing her teeth beforehand and using a really strong mouthwash hadn’t made it go away. Even her pancake wasn’t as appetizing as she first thought. Giving up, she began playing with her food instead. “Oh, nothing much,” she said, a brief impression of passionate kisses and burning flesh coloring her thoughts. “So, did you do the Calc homework?”

                Malachy nodded, cutting up his pancakes and taking large bites of it with relish. Obviously he was enjoying the meal. She couldn’t help but watch him as he ate, since she really couldn’t do much with hers. With such a bad taste in her mouth, how could she? It was like raw eggs, stale cream, and apple cider vinegar all rolled into one disgusting flavor.

                After he finished chewing his mouthful of pancake with some powdered sugar clinging to his lips, he answered her. “Yeah, I did it. It wasn’t too hard, actually. Pretty self-explanatory. Ms. Morgan really doesn’t seem to be challenging us all that much. She’s okay for a teacher, though. So, how was your weekend?” Malachy asked, changing the subject. He sipped at his orange juice, having eaten the last of his pancakes quickly, but she’d seen him glance with more than a cursory look at her. Now, he was just noticing her plate, picking up on the fact that she wasn’t really eating at all.  

                “Oh, it was nothing,” she replied. Thoughts of last night suddenly crowded into her head, only adding to the headache pounding at her temples. It all seemed to be flooding into her now, blurry snippets, more than she would have thought, flashing before her mind’s eye. Bright colors, whirling lights, loud pounding music, dark rooms, so many faces. And the voice, the voice of her mother crying out to her, begging her to save her… Malachy eyed her critically, noticing something more going on just beneath the surface. Then he blinked and pretended to stifle a yawn, stretching his arms into the air above his head. He glanced at his wristwatch, secured firmly to his left arm, and raised his eyebrows in exaggeration as he read the time.

                “Well, look at that,” he remarked offhandedly. “We’d better get going if we want to get to school on time.” He swiftly cleared their plates from the table and put them in the sink, giving Savanna a thoughtful and worried look as he went by. She pretended not to see it, but inside she could feel her irritation boiling in her gut, just waiting t be unleashed if he said something else that was stupid.

                “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to that,” she muttered sarcastically, feeling more annoyed by the second. She grabbed her schoolbag roughly and pulled the kitchen door open, nearly slamming it into Malachy’s face, who was right behind her with a light step and bright smile.   

                Malachy’s bicycle was parked in her driveway. He ran ahead of her, so he was already sitting on the seat when she caught up, looking at Savanna expectantly. She could see that he had stuff to say to her. She groaned inwardly. Of course Malachy would notice something. He was like, the person who thought he knew her best. She hopped up behind him on the bike, balancing precariously on the bars that poked out from the back wheel, her backpack secured firmly so it wouldn’t cause any disharmony with the bike’s center of gravity. Malachy began pedaling down the driveway, and Savanna clung to his shoulders, looking out over his head as the street sloped down a large hill, which blurred a little in her vision. She clung more tightly to him. It would take them at least fifteen minutes to get to school this way.

                It wasn’t until maybe five minutes later that Malachy broke the silence. “So, what is up with you? I noticed you didn’t eat your breakfast. Weren’t you hungry?”

                She replied quickly, a little angrily, “No, I wasn’t. And it’s none of your business whether I eat or not anyway.”

                “Right,” Malachy said, unperturbed by her hostile tone of voice, letting the bike glide down a small hill before he began to pedal again. “So, what’d you do this weekend? I tried calling you last night on your cell phone, but you didn’t answer. What were you doing?”

                “Studying. My phone was off or something. That’s probably why I didn’t get your call.” Malachy shot a glance at her over his shoulder, and then glanced back at the road quickly.

                “Your phone was off? C’mon, Savanna. You never turn your phone off. I know you. I also know you weren’t home last night. There were no lights on in your window. And I don’t think you fell asleep. I can tell you must have slept like s**t last night. Now, tell me the truth! What’s been going on with you lately?” Malachy said, his voice demanding answers.

                Savanna huffed angrily. Of course Malachy would have checked her house. Her temper flared, and then just, tapped out. Suddenly she felt like she was eighty years old. She sagged on Malachy’s shoulders, like she couldn’t hold up her weight anymore. It was like all her sleepless nights were suddenly coming back to her. She could feel the exhaustion pressing down on her, and even the drugs she’d plugged into herself to keep her energy up weren’t really helping. Her tiredness seemed to go so much deeper.

                “Savanna?” Malachy asked, his voice softer and quieter. “Will you tell me?”

                “Oh, Malachy,” she whispered close to his ear, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m so tired. I don’t think I can live another day like this.”

                “Why? What happened?” he asked, his voice worried. “What have you been doing with yourself?”

                She sighed. “I was at a party last night. I- I think I got stoned or something, because I can’t really remember a lot of what went on clearly. It’s all a blur in my head. I think I did some pretty stupid things though.”

                “Like what?” he asked.

                “Like, drinking and smoking and getting high. All that.” She really didn’t want to go into details.

                “What else?”

                “Look, will you forget it?” she snapped, suddenly irritable. She straightened up, raising her head and separating herself from Malachy. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

                “Fine,” Malachy said, his voice final, but she could sense how soft and submitting he meant to be to avoid discord between them, and also how hurt he actually was. Savanna looked away from him, choosing to watch the road beneath the bike’s tires speed by. Her head spun, but she ignored the sensation as they rode the rest of the way to school in silence.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Savanna felt herself going limp with exhaustion when her boyfriend’s car pulled into the driveway of her house. It was almost five o’clock. She’d been out with Nick since she’d decided to cut school with him, after fourth period. They’d gone to the mall to hang out with some of his friends, and she’d quietly stood by while he did what he wanted to her. While he’d been feeling her up, placing his arm possessively around her waist, she’d been preoccupied with her discussion with Malachy that morning. It was none of his business what she did with herself. Sure, she’d gotten home around one in the morning and had somehow just blacked out and had the nightmare and then taken some more Valium, but that was none of his business! Why couldn’t he just butt out?

School had been a nightmare. She’d nearly passed out as soon as she got off of Malachy’s bike that morning. During all of her classes she’d been helplessly dozing, trying to keep her eyes open. Malachy had been in some of her classes and had woken her up when she’d suddenly conked out. He also covered in answering questions so the teachers wouldn’t pick on her. She hadn’t learned a thing in the long run though. She’d been too unfocused, her mind drifting in and out, catching some words here and there, but really nothing entered her head that didn’t go out the other ear. It didn’t matter anyway that she was barely passing any of her classes. It just wasn’t important. Not anymore.

“Night babe,” Nicholas said to her, leaning over to grab her face with one hand and plant a hard kiss on her lips. She merely nodded, not really feeling the press of his lips against her own. She didn’t even seem to notice that he’d drawn blood. He honked as he pulled out of the driveway, and Savanna just stared with a flat expression on her face as his car sped down the street, disappearing around the next bend in the road.

Savanna entered through the side door into the kitchen, kicking her clogs into a corner, wanting nothing more than to lie down and just sleep. She dumped her backpack into its usual spot, on the bar stool, and then slowly made her way to the living room. Her father wouldn’t be home ‘til late, and he wouldn’t notice if she were here or gone anyway. Maybe she’d call up one of her druggie friends and just hang out with them. Jake said he’d gotten a sweet deal on some LSD, which happened to be her favorite hallucinogen.

She headed over to the couch on ungainly legs that practically screamed to collapse. She tripped over a corner of the coffee table and fell face down on the couch, not bothering to get up. I’ll just lay here for a while, she thought, and her eyes drop close heavily as she let the sweet oblivion of darkness descend upon her with open arms.

 

                “Savanna… Savanna…”

                “Mmm… wha-?” she slurred, her words coming out in a messy jumble. “Wha- wha rong…?” She felt a cool hand on her cheek, and her lids fluttered open. “Mom…?” she muttered, not fully awake. She slowly turned her aching head, which hurt from being in such a lopsided position, and opened her eyes to slits, a bright light shining in them. She squinted. It hurt her eyes. F*****g light… she thought, the words trailing into nothingness.

                She managed to open them a little wider, the light slowly becoming more bearable as her eyes adjusted. She tried to make out the shadows and blurry blobs she kept seeing. Finally, they seemed to focus. No one was there, though. She was alone. That thought alone was enough for her to spiral, like she was PMSing, only this was much worse.

                She was alone. What’s the point of all this? Mom’s dead. She’s not here with me anymore. There’s no point in being here if she isn’t,  she thought, turning her eyes to the old itchy couch. It was made of some weird fabric in an ugly brown plaid pattern. It was like wool or something, and it made her feel hot and sweaty. She tried breathing through her nose, and it was like she was being asphyxiated. Stupid f*****g couch. Why does all the stuff I own have to be crap?!

                Suddenly furious, she rose quickly and steadily to her feet, her thoughts clear and sharp from her anger. She knew exactly what she wanted to do. She stormed her way into the kitchen and began flinging open random drawers until she found the one filled with knives. She flung aside the ones she didn’t like, and they flew behind her, some sticking themselves into the cabinets, others clanging against appliances to the floor. She smiled when she found a particularly wicked looking blade lying near the bottom. “Perfect,” she said aloud to herself, feeling a dark spark of anger and savagery rising within her. Her father had always expected her to be the good child, the one to support him because her mom was no longer around by taking over the household work. Well, she’d be taking care of that now.

                She grasped the sharp knife in her right hand and made her way back to the living room. Still smiling, she stared at the couch and then at the knife, which glinted from a dusty table lamp’s light. The blade seemed to wink at her, encouraging her onwards. She slowly made her way towards the hated thing until she stood right above it, the knife poised expectantly above her head, ready to strike. Her mind felt blank, calm like the sea on a still day. This is for you, Dad. This is for all the crap you put me through after Mom died.  

                The knife fell, plunging itself up to the hilt in the itchy couch with the ugly plaid design, tearing through the fabric as easily as a knife through soft butter. It made a satisfying ripping sound, and then a dull thump as it stuck into a wooden support. With a few quick jerks, she pulled the knife back out and plunged it into the couch again. She laughed out loud as the knife plunged and rose, plunged and rose into that disgusting filthy thing, tearing large shreds into it. Stuffing poured from the shredded holes. It was like the couch was bleeding, and all Savanna could do was laugh.

                Too soon, there was barely anything left of the couch. Savanna panted, pleased with her efforts. Suddenly, her temper once more flared to a rising crescendo, and she screamed. “WHY IS MY LIFE S**T?!!! AAAUUUGGGHHHH!!!!” Grasping the knife more tightly than before, her knuckles turning white, she began to run around the room, stabbing at anything within her line of vision. She got to an automan and the knife got stuck in it. Frustrated, she grabbed the ataman and threw it at a wall. It bounced off, leaving a large dent where it had struck. She kicked and screamed and threw whatever was at hand anywhere in the room. Glass shattered, tinkling like tiny bells. Stuffing flew, like the first snow of winter. When she got to the T.V., she didn’t even hesitate as she stuck her foot threw it, not even feeling the impact in her limbs, the shattering glass scraping and gouging her bare leg, nor seeing as the blood began to fall to the ground. She ran and jumped, taking picture frames and flinging them several feet across the room. One large picture frame unbalanced her so badly after she threw it that she fell to the ground.

                She fell, and the realization of what she’d done hit. She froze, stunned by the fall, and then the tears poured down her cheeks, and she lay there among the shards and remains of what had once made the house feel remotely like a home to her. She lay on her side, her eyes blurred with tears, her throat sore and clogged with despair. Her cries filled the room. Her one free hand, the other pinned by her body, grasped out in front of her and clawed at the deep yellow carpeting. She gasped in pain when her hand clenched around some sharp shards, and she cried harder, gripping them tighter and tighter. I deserve this, her thoughts whispered. I deserve all of this. I’m hopeless. I should just die. The world would be better off without a f*****g retard like me anyway. At least I’d be with Mom.  

                And the sharpness stung her, dug into her abused flesh, planted needles in her mind. Why not? She thought. Why not just end it here? It would be so easy. Just a few cuts, and she could just lie there, let her lifeblood drain out of her onto the carpet. No one would miss her. Not her father, not Nickolas. They were better off without her anyway. She could be with her mom. Her mom had loved her, more than her father ever would. She should be with her mom.

                Slowly, she drew her other arm out from under her, wincing when it grazed broken shards that littered the floor. She held the one she held in her right hand and brought it to the inner wrist of her left arm. She pressed it to a blue vein that appeared close to the surface of her skin. There was a slight pressure, and then a sensation of her skin just, separating, giving way underneath the superior force. She watched, her consciousness seeming to separate from her body, as the cut began to well with blood. Calmly, she repeated the process, bothered by nothing that she saw. It seemed right, in a way. This was what she was supposed to do.

When she started on her other arm, she was already beginning to feel lightheaded. There was a darkness that seemed to be gathering around the edges of her vision. It was getting harder and harder to see.

Suddenly, she heard a voice shouting her name.

“Savanna!”

A sudden cold chill ran down her spine. The voice from her dream. Then the sensation faded, and she became distant. She could feel herself fading. Was it her mom, calling to her from the other side already?

“Savanna!”

The voice again. Why wouldn’t it leave her alone? Why couldn’t it let her pass on in peace?

“Savanna!” Suddenly, she felt herself move, being rolled over onto her back. Her eyes were clouded, but she was still make out the familiar features of Malachy. She knew his brown shaggy hair, ruffled no matter what the season, his lightly tanned skin, his dark brown eyes. Was he the voice? God, why did he have to interfere?

Her thoughts became harder to grasp, more dysfunctional, as she continued to fade away. The square root of pie, is like the Empire State Building, with pudding, and marshmallow jello… The sky rides a pony, and I’m too tired to sit… Cat s**t, cats s**t in their own s**t, like dogs eat cat s**t… “Savanna!” the voice startled her, made her concentrate on something. Her body felt so languid, like she was floating on thick water. She couldn’t even move her arms, but that was a good sign.

“Savanna! Oh God, why did you do this? What the hell!! My God! Savanna! Don’t die! Oh please don’t die! You can’t! I won’t let you!” Savanna vaguely heard the voice, and tried to listen to what it was saying. Was it talking to her? “Savanna! This can’t be about your mom! Is it? Listen! You didn’t do anything wrong! I swear! It was your mom’s time! Everyone dies! It’s a natural way of life. But you, you can’t end it like this! Please Savanna! Speak to me! Do something!” I killed my mom, she thought vaguely. But I’m going to meet her soon. Then she’ll forgive me. I’m sure she’ll at least want me. She loved me, at least.

“Savanna! Godammit! You are not going to die! Live!! Don’t you see? You have to live! You can’t waste your life like this! Life is a gift, and you have to live it as best you can, to the fullest. Please, can’t you understand? Don’t give up so easily like this! Don’t give up! Please! For me? Would you stay for me?” She could hear the voice crying, sobbing, choking on words as it tried to talk. Her eyes were closed, and she couldn’t see anything. She could only listen, or at least try to. It was all she could do now.

“Savanna! Don’t you dare die on me! If you die, I’ll- I’ll kick your a*s real good! I mean it! What you’re doing is cowardly! So what if life stinks sometimes? That’s the way it’s supposed to be! We have our ups and downs, and that’s the great thing about life! You can’t stay in a bad mood forever! You have to see the good side of things sometimes! Nothing is all bad! And you! You won’t even give it a chance!” He cried out desperately, “You coward! You whiny, sniveling, bitching coward!” Savanna stirred slightly in his arms. Who’s he calling a coward? I’m not a coward…  

“Savanna! Please, speak to me! What do you say? Give life a chance! I’ll help you. I’ll be there for you. Savanna! I don’t want you to die! I love you! Oh God, please don’t die! Please don’t! Live! For me! If for no one else, then for me!” She felt herself being pulled against a heaving chest, her head pillowed in the crook of a familiar elbow, connected to a strong, limber arm. She felt the breath stutter and the heart convulse, heaving and sweating and crying.

She was on the brink, and she was more than ready to fall. She could almost But, something held her back. A powerful force, grasping and holding onto her tightly, refused to let her go. What was this strong presence? Why wouldn’t it let her go? Despite her weakness, she managed to utter the words. “Okay,” she whispered, not sure why she was saying these words, much less how she was able to say them at all. “Okay, I’ll stay… for a little… longer…”