“Fine” (Repost)
Note: I posted this a while ago and recently found it again so I decided to edit and fix some of the things that were a little weird about the first version.
“Lilly. Are you ready to go, honey?” Lilly’s mom tiptoed into her room, adopting the same cautious air she always seemed to have when encountering Lilly, the concerned look etched in her features one Lilly had come to know too well.
“Mom. I don’t need to go see stupid therapist Dr. Williams, I’m fine. Fine, fine, fine! You hear me?” She said, glaring pointedly in her mom’s direction. “Go ask Milton! He’ll tell you. I’m fine.”
Her mom seemed to be formulating a response, then bit back any retort she may have had to her daughter’s angry words, instead choosing a calm tone. “Lilly, darling. I’m giving you five minutes.” Backing out of the room, her mom closed the door softly, and Lilly began skimming through her phone, scrolling through the camera roll. Pictures of her and Milton doing various things were interspersed through the endless rows of photos, and she found herself clicking on several, chuckling slightly at the memories. Opening her conversation with Milton, Lilly texted the photo of them at a concert last summer. Look, Mil, remember this? lol. Wanna hang tomorrow? That entire night had been almost like a dream, a hazy fantasy of dancing and singing, getting so drunk that almost everything was funny. Suddenly, there was another knock at the door.
“Lilly! Dr. Williams is here,” her mom announced, opening the door without receiving an invitation.
“But, I thought we were going to see her,” Lilly mumbled.
“Well, she said it was no trouble to come!” Her mom said in the same falsely bright and cheery voice. “Is that all right?” Her voice invited a response, but an underlying note of anger told Lilly that Dr. Williams was coming in whether that was all right or not.
“Hi, Lilly.” Dr. Williams’s condescending tone forced its way into Lilly’s brain, invading her safe haven of meaningless thoughts. “Mind if I sit down in this chair right here?” Another question that the answer would have to be ‘yes’ to. Her mom slowly slipped out of the room, leaving Lilly alone with Dr. Williams.
“I’m going to ask you a couple of questions.” Lilly nodded, rolling her eyes as Dr. Williams began firing questions at her.
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Lilly.”
“Age?”
“Fifteen.”
“School?”
“Is this really necessary?” Dr. Williams sighed.
“Fine, Lilly. What are your friend’s names?” she asked.
“Milton,” Lilly responded dubiously. “What is the point of this?”
“Lilly. I think you know.” Choosing to glance around her room instead of answer Dr. Willaims’s question, Lilly clenched and unclenched her fist repeatedly. After another moment of calculated silence, Dr. Williams spoke again.
“I was like you once. Young, struck by such a tragedy. I know what you must be going through, but I can’t help you unless you tell me the truth. And I know that you can’t tell me the truth until you admit it to yourself. So please, what exactly happened the night Milton overdosed?”
And just like that the anger bubbling inside her reached its boiling point, the thin veneer of mock politeness masking what she really had on her mind crumbled, and the words she’d dammed up inside her mess of a mind spilled forth in a torrent of rage.
“HE’S NOT DEAD! Stop telling me he is, stop saying he overdosed, you’re just making it all up! You’re making me sound crazy but I’m NOT. He isn’t dead. He isn’t dead. He’s alive, he’s coming over tonight. I TEXTED HIM TEN MINUTES AGO, I wouldn’t text a dead person, I’m not CRAZY!” Lilly hollered, her voice increasing an octave to a high-pitched shriek. She paced back and forth, to the wall and back, the wall and back, her feet falling in rhythm with the same phrase. Not crazy, not crazy, not crazy.
“Lilly!” Dr. Williams caught her by the arm, forcing her to stop pacing. “Calm down. I already said this, but I’ll say it again. I can’t help you unless you help me. So be honest with yourself. What. Happened?”
You can’t tell anyone that, whispered a soft voice, its soothing words burrowing deep into her brain until she couldn’t help but believe they were true.
Can’t tell anyone…
Can’t
Can’t
Can’t…
But she couldn’t stop the words from coming, the thoughts arranging into memories that came to life before her tightly squeezed shut eyes, no matter how hard she tried.
A boy no more than fifteen with mangy hair and dark circles under his eyes
stood on the dimly lit porch of an apartment
Banging on the door
Each pound of his fist growing more hopeless
Until the surface on which he pounded was swung open
Revealing a livid girl in her pajamas
Glaring.
The boy watched her glare turn to pure hatred
As her eyes processed what she was seeing
As his face became a name materializing in her brain
The disbelief as she recognized the ragged person on her front step
Made her slam the door shut again
Grind the lock with a final sort of click.
He stood out there for an hour, slumped against the doorframe
Clutching it as if it was the only thing supporting him
The only thing he had left.
As he began to give up
Realizing his once-friend would not help him out of this situation
He left a final voice message
I know that I’ve been acting shitty these past months. But I’m sorry, Lilly. Please, I need you. I-I don’t know what to do. It’s too much. Everything is too much. Please.
His voice cracked when he said please.
Anyone who knew him,
Though very few did,
Knew that Milton Walker didn’t beg
He was too proud.
But he did, in his final moments,
He begged me the last person who he thought would help him
His best friend
His only friend
But he was turned down
His last and only option deserting him on her very own doorstep
Until she found him hours later
Gone.
“Lilly? Can you tell me what’s going on?” Dr. Williams shook Lilly out of her startling memories, and the warm gentleness of her touch reminded Lilly of Milton, which immediately brought tears to her eyes.
“I killed him. It’s m-my fault!” Lilly sobbed. Dr. Williams managed to get the story out of her, gently coaxing the words from Lilly’s ragged lips. For a split second, she felt safe, that same feeling she used to have before...everything. Then Dr. Williams announced that she needed to talk to Lilly’s mom.
“I have several ideas for diagnosis,” Dr. Williams said, rattling off several long and complicated disorders. Lilly’s stomach churned, and the voices she’d been trying to hold back seeped back into her thoughts.
...they still think you’re crazy…
...she doesn’t want to help you…
...why would she help you…
...you’re just another failed experiment…
...she was never going to fix you…
...you’re too broken…
I’m not crazy. But the words held less conviction. I can’t be crazy. But somehow she wondered if she was. No. I’m fine. Not crazy. Not crazy. Dr. Williams, Mom, they don’t know what they’re talking about.
She tried to denounce her alleged insanity.
But with every repetition,
The word ‘fine’
lost potency.
Her stomach churned
As she tried to tell herself that she was fine
Something deep inside her stirred
Arousing the thought she never wanted or thought she would have to face.
What if I’m never ‘fine’ again?