Calista Kosko (_possessed) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-02-04 21:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | #flashback, #solo |
Just breathe
Who: Calista and way too many NPCs
Where: SOHS, home, and hospital
When: Spring 2000
Warning: Not for the fragile-minded. At all.
"What did you get?"
"Oh my god, why did they give me a C?!"
"Pfff, this is so lame..."
"Is it lunch time yet?"
English class only had five minutes remaining and the students were all sorts giddy to get out. Some were discussing the test of MacBeth that they just got back while other talked about their plans for the weekend, though a vast majority were discussing details on the prom that was coming up in a week. Sure, it was a junior class, but it didn't mean that they couldn't be asked by a senior. Many of the girls were all sorts starry-eyed at the concept of some hunky senior guy asking them out to the prom and having quite the night out.
"Wouldn't it be awesome if Matt asked one of us out?" Some blonde was conversing with her friends, twirling her golden locks around a finger.
"You mean, captain of the lacrosse team Matt?" Her brunette friend arched a brow.
"Honey, he's not going to ask any of us out." Another one chimed in.
The blonde pouted at the concept. "But... why not? He's a really nice guy!"
"Because space cadet at large over there got asked by him."
And all of their eyes widened in shock, one of them dropping her jaw before mouthing, "What?!" Then in perfect unison, they all turned their heads to glare at the dark-haired girl sitting in the front of the classroom. "Oh, you're fucking kidding me... her?! What the hell does he see in someone like her?"
Calista was lost in her own world as she sat there, staring down at her test she got back, which had a massive red F on the top along with a briskly written SEE ME right below. Yet another test flunked. Nothing new there. The girl simply couldn't understand Shakespeare... or algebra... or chemistry... or anything, for that matter. She was distracted far too easily, not to mention her mind was always somewhere else. Her parents had tried everything - therapy, tutors, medications, and even tried bribing her with material objects to excel in her studies and nothing was working. Thankfully she was passing barely enough to progress into junior year.
She continued to stare at her test, but she wasn't concerned with the fact she failed it or that her teacher wanted to see her. Instead she was entertaining herself with drawing doodles all over the piece of paper. Tiny ghosts with animated faces danced across her page, some of them relaxing on tops of large bodies of texts while others were poking out over the various fill in the blank lines that she left untouched. It made the test a lot more interesting in her mind. Why couldn't there be-
"Heeey Calistaaaaa."
Blinking her eyes, she tilted her head up to eye the group of girls who were glaring at her seconds earlier. They formed around her desk, all of them with their arms crossed and smiles upon their faces. Calista was not the brightest bulb, but she knew that none of the girls in high school liked her. For the most part, they all hated her. No matter how hard they tried to flirt with boys and go out on dates, most of the male eyes flickered past the other girls and on over to the elusive girl. She was beautiful at such a young age and unknown to her she was gathering quite the following of admirers. Her female peers envied the fact that she was oblivious to any and all advances to her, even going as far as blowing off some potential boyfriend candidates. It wasn't that she was disinterested, but more along the lines that she did have a clue as to what she was doing when flirting.
And from the looks of it, the girls before her weren't interested in what she got for a grade on the test.
"We heard that you got asked out to the prom by Matt."
"...Matt?" Calista blinked some more, obviously not remembering who he was.
One of the girls rolled her eyes, muttering something along the lines of, "Typical."
"Yeah, Matt. Captain of the lacrosse team. He asked you out, right? So are you going with him?"
"I... don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?" The one who eye-rolled seconds earlier interjected, coming off rather harsh. "He's only, like, the most popular guy in the school. How can you not know if you're going with him or not?"
"But, I've had five other guys ask me out."
Silence. Dead silence.
"...or was it seven? I can't remember, but there were others."
Scoffing dramatically, the girl eye rolled again and stomped on back to her desk, leaving her two friends on their own with this one. They weren't as pissed off as the one who stormed off, but the disgusted look in their eyes was definitely there. The blonde glanced down to eye Calista's test, smirking as a scheme began to formulate in her tricky little mind.
"What's this? You failed!? Awwwww, I'm so sorry, Calista! That must suck."
Before she could reply, the blonde snatched the test away from Calista to look it over with her friend. "Let's see where you went wrong, maybe we can give you a few pointers so you can do better next time!"
"Really?" Calista visually perked up a bit, rather excited that someone was willing to help her out. None of the girls offered her a hand with anything, so perhaps this could be a first. Though when the two began giggling snidely together, Calista tilted her head to the side in confusion. "What's so funny?"
"Oh my god, you didn't even answer the fill in the blanks? We had a word bank to chose from and you still couldn't figure that one out?!"
"Look at her multiple choice! She just circled them to make a smiley face! Oh wow, that's priceless!"
"And you just doodled all over the essay section? What the hell are these suppose to be?"
Her face dropped when she realized the girls were simply leading her on. So they didn't want to help her out - they just wanted to poke fun at her, as always. Should stop being hopeful... Biting her lower lip gently, she realized that the girls were laughing - laughing - at the tiny cartoon ghosts scattered about the page. Why would they do that? She loved her little boo ghosts. There was nothing funny about them.
"They're ghosts."
And they just roared with laughter.
"Seriously? A ghost?!"
"Oh, didn't you know? Calista sees them all the time, even talks to them."
"That's not-" She tried to interrupt them, but they simply talked over her.
"Do the ghosts talk back to you?"
"Of course they do! They're the only ones crazy enough to be her friend."
"But... they do talk to me." Calista sat there confused. She did see ghosts all the time and it was only natural for her to strike up a conversation with them. Most of the time the ghosts were happy they had someone to talk to, so she didn't mind being friendly with them. Though as much as her parents told her that everyone was just jealous of her abilities, she couldn't help but think differently when the girls cracked up. Jealous people didn't laugh, did they?
"I'm sure they do." The blonde ripped her test in half and then began to crumbled the paper up into a little ball. "And they probably tell you the same thing everyone else tells you; that you're nothing but a stupid, pathetic waste of life who should rot away in your lame world." That said, she chucked the paper ball at Calista's face, barely flinching at the impact.
"Ha! She acts like it didn't even hit her. Look at her face!"
"Tch, retard. She probably made up the whole thing about Matt asking her out."
"Or maybe one of the ghosts told her to think that."
By then, the lunch bell rang and the entire class exited the room, though Calista remained sitting her seat, looking down at the paper ball that was thrown in her face. Why did they always have to be mean? Calista never did anything to hurt anyone. And they ruined her boo ghosts! Trying her best to unravel the test and smooth it out, she pouted upon realizing that there was no point in salvaging the doodles. She ignored her teacher, who was apparently oblivious to the harassment that just occurred. All the old hag wanted was to go over her lack of understanding of Shakespeare, but Calista didn't care. She didn't want to go over anything with anyone. Academics were obviously not her forte or passion, but then again... what was? She left the room, tossing the test out in the trash in the process.
For the rest of the day, she remained distant, more so than usual. Though she was physically at her classes, she wasn't mentally present. It was difficult to focus when her head was filled all the nagging words that her peers flung in her direction. You're stupid. So and so only asked her out to the prom for an easy lay. She must be retarded; how can anyone function like that? Maybe she should curl up in a box and die - besides, no one really likes her anyways.
Why are they saying mean things to me? I don't say anything mean to them. She walked down hallways slowly, head down slightly as the thoughts raced through her mind. I don't want to make anyone upset, but all I do is upset people. Even my parents are upset with me. What did I do wrong?
"Hey, Calista!"
Her thoughts were interrupted by a male voice. Looking up, she noticed Matt was making his way towards her with some of his friends trailing behind. Maybe he could cheer up. Giving him a small smile, she waved in his direction and perked up a bit.
"Hey, how's it-"
"So have you decided?"
"...what?" She blinked her eyes, wondering what he was in such a rush for. He almost never cut her off.
"The prom. You said you'd think about it. Have you decided?"
"I'm... still thinking about it. I don't know if-"
"What the hell, Calista? You told me that two weeks ago and you can't figure it out?"
"But, I-"
"What, am I not good enough for you? Are you so full of yourself that you can't bring yourself down from you high horse and go out with me?"
Now people were starting to stop and look in the hallway. Calista didn't understand why Matt needed to make a big scene about it. Why couldn't he just let her figure it out? The prom was a big deal and she didn't want to choose the wrong guy.
"Dude, she's not worth your time," one of his friends put a hand on Matt's shoulder, trying to calm him down.
"Tch, really. You're better off with Annie than this flake."
Rolling his eyes, Matt left Calista with his friends, leaving her by herself in the hallway with whispers skittering about from person to person. Of course they were going to gossip about what just happened. People did their best to find whatever reason they could to pick up dirt and fling it in her direction. Calista remained standing there, clinging onto the books in her arms tighter to relieve whatever tension was building up, though it was pointless to even try.
Even when she arrived home, the anxiety never slipped away. Her heart raced while she felt her chest knotting up in ten different ways. The urge to vomit overwhelmed her, but nothing came of it. Placing her belongings in the living room, she looked around the house with a concerned look. "Mom? Dad?" They were almost always home when she returned from school, but no sign of them. All she wanted was to curl up and talk to someone and have them hold her and tell her it was ok. Parents could do that, right? Well, it was hard when said parents were apparently off on an emergency exorcist call, according to the sticky note left on the fridge. Oh, and there was leftover meatloaf that she could heat up for dinner, because they were going to be late.
...no one's here for me, was all Calista could think. I have no one to call, no one to hang out with who won't laugh at me, no one who understands me. Even my own parents think I'm lame. She searched through the cupboards, finding a glass to pull out to pour some milk in. No one's ever going to like me enough to stay around. Why do I even bother? Her hand began to tremble as she held her glass, tears slowly welling up in her eyes. I don't deserve to be asked out to prom or receive any attention. I'm just a stupid girl who can't do anything. That's all you are - a stupid, pathetic excuse for life.
The glass of milk slipped past her fingers and shattered onto the ground. Within seconds after impact, Calista was on her knees, crying hysterically as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm so stupid! I can't do anything right! I don't deserve anything good!" She sobbed uncontrollably, her tears ruining the make-up that was so delicately applied to her face. "I don't want to live anymore... I just want to die. I deserve to die. It would make everyone happier."
Tugging at her the long sleeves of her shirt, she pulled them up enough to reveal a myriad of cuts that covered her sun-kissed skin. She had been cutting herself for almost the entire school year and managed to get away with it. At first she had done it to simply relieve the pain of life, almost punishing herself for being picked on and feeling miserable. Though as she reached out for one of the sharp pieces of glass, Calista had no intention of simply relieving the pain - she wanted to end it. Slicing deeply into her wrists over and over, she chanted shaky words of how she wanted to die, how she wanted to no longer be an eye sore to anyone. Just die... You don't have to worry anymore. It's ok now. The blood ran down her arms and soaked up the fabric of her shirt, then began to trickle from her skin to mix in with the puddles of milk. Her cries began to mellow out as the lack of blood in her system made the girl dizzy.
Please... let me die.
Closing her hazel eyes, she felt her body beginning to slump over, though she never felt herself collide into the floor. It was like she was falling and the twisted sensation in her stomach wouldn't leave her be. She was simply stuck in what felt like an endless fall, waiting to finally crash into something.
When Calista finally opened her eyes, she was greeted by bright lights and an obnoxious beeping noise. She heard voices faintly in the distance. One distinctively sounded like her mother, who was freaking out while nurses were trying to calm her down. Everything felt surreal as nurses came to check up on the girl's vitals, asking her how she felt. Calista couldn't answer even if she tried. I'm alive...? No, I don't want to be here. Why am I here?
The doctors had kept her in the hospital overnight for recovery and her parents stayed by her side, refusing to leave until their daughter could leave with them. Her mother constantly cried, asking why she had decided to attempt suicide. She even had the audacity to ask Calista if it was done in an attempt to gain attention. Why would I do that? Why would I hurt myself for attention? Maybe if you lived my life for one day you'd understand I don't want any attention. I don't deserve attention. Calista never said a word to her parents.
Come morning, several nurses came into the recovering room to help Calista out of her bed and into a wheelchair. Her parents were thrilled, thinking that she was able to leave with them finally and go home and think none of this had ever happened. Though that was far from the case. Calista was half awake when they wheeled her out of the emergency room, though she remembered hearing her parents yelling after her, crying. Where they were taking her she didn't know, and quite frankly she was too scared to find out.
Whoever said One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest was inaccurate had never been admitted into an mental ward before. It was exactly like the book. Had Calista actually gotten past the first five pages she would have drawn the connection, but instead she remained in her room and cried. The nurses working in the ward had given her frumpy clothes to change into that made Calista feel even more disgusted. And that wasn't even the worst part. She had curled up on the floor in the corner of her room, crying hysterically for hours, and all the nurses were concerned with was the fact she was on the floor. "Get up and sit in a chair or something," was all they demanded from her. No one asked why she was crying except for a few of the fellow residents who popped in and asked why she was crying.
"I don't want to be here."
Honestly, who did want to be there? All the walls were painted white and the windows were barred. The nurses were miserable and heartless, never once giving into Calista's request for a hug. They even grabbed her by the arm and forced her off of the floor eventually, dragging her to one of the recreational rooms to "converse" with the others who had been admitted. Why would she want to talk with any of them? Calista was the youngest one there by at least twenty years. But Calista had turned eighteen only a week ago, thus making her an adult and therefore unable to be placed in the juvenile section. And on top of that, her parents had absolutely no say on when Calista could be released. It was up to her to get better if she wanted to leave.
The first few days were miserable for Calista. All she did was cry to the point that her eyes grew swollen and hideous. She refused to eat any food, no matter how many times the nurses insisted on it. When it came to daily activities, she preferred to sit off by herself by a window and listen to the radio. Sometimes she could get away with listening to a rock station for all of two minutes before the nurses stormed in and ripped the radio out of the electrical socket and confiscated the piece from her. Apparently rock music was a bad influence and was what drove her to commit suicide in the first place. Funny how they thought that, though never bothered to ask why she truly wanted to die.
She was only allowed two visitors are a time twice a week, and her parents took full advantage of that. Her mother had gotten into an argument with one of the nurses due to hugging her daughter. Seemed like physical contact was not allowed in the ward. Her parents reassured her they would get through this hurdle in life and everything would be alright, though Calista didn't feel the same way. How was she suppose to get better in such a shit hole?
Calista eventually ate, though only after the nurses threatened to shove a tube down her throat to force feed her. They wouldn't even let her cut up her own food, fearing she would steal a knife to later use to cut herself. Finally eating was a massive step in the right direction for Calista, though she couldn't help but still feel miserable. One of the nurses had suggested she shower and clean up, hoping that maybe doing so would lift her mood a bit. It wasn't a bad idea either, and the nurses even supplied her with a small bundle of products to use, though she had to request for a shaving razor. While the nurses gave into her demand, one of them also followed her as she shuffled on towards the showers.
"...why are you following me?"
"We can't let you go into the showers with a razor blade by yourself, Calista. A nurse needs to keep watch to make sure you don't hurt yourself."
She stopped walk, staring at the nurse with partially terrified eyes. "...what? But all I want to do is shave my legs."
"I understand, Calista, but if you want to do that, you need to be supervised."
Was this honestly happening? She had to be watched while showering to make sure she didn't kill herself? As depressed as she was days ago, all Calista wanted was to be clean and smooth. Dying was barely on the back burner at that point. Maybe it wasn't a big deal, though. Maybe she could just ignore the fact someone was watching her and she could get through it. Besides, cooperating with the nurses was the only sure ticket on out of the hell hole.
Though when she realized the shower was nothing but a hole in the wall, she began to have second thoughts. Half of the tiny room consisted of the shower while the other was sectioned off to change and- What?! There was a chair stationed in the corner, where the nurse promptly sat down and looked up at Calista, as if waiting for her to go about cleaning up. She couldn't believe this was happening. And to make matters worse, there was no curtain for the shower. There was no sense of privacy or humility.
But the nurse refused to leave, thus forcing Calista with no option but go about showering. For the most part she kept her back to the woman, though when it came to using the razor blade, she simply couldn't go through with it. The nurse just sat there in silence, gaze apathetically at Calista. It felt like some sick joke being played on her. How was this suppose to be productive at all? Did they really expect her to get better when they were humiliating her like this? Thankfully it was hard to distinguish the difference between the water trickling down her face and the tears that mix in with them. As she slid down to the floor, she curled up into a ball to cover herself, lowering her head in shame. Never in her life had she ever felt so dehumanized.
Since the shower incident, Calista was determined to get out of the mental ward. She didn't belong there. She was suppose to be at the prom in that pretty dress she spent an entire month making. She was suppose to be having dinner with her family and talking about her potentially stepping into the exorcist shoes once she graduated. She was suppose to be not rotting away in a prison cell. She wanted to live her life, even if it meant going to school and having to deal with all the nagging comments. Anything was better than the ward.
She began to show signs of improvement over the following days. She actually tried conversing with others and didn't keep herself locked up in her room forever. Calista found pleasure in spending hours in the arts and crafts room, playing with all sorts of paints, pens, and markers to create different visions of what her prom dress could look like. The nurses acted impress with her art and constantly encouraged her to keep working on it. It was an escape for Calista more than anything else. Not to mention it made her look better in the eyes of others.
It wasn't until a month later that she was finally released from the mental ward. Calista was back to her normal self, or at least as normal as she ever would be. She didn't have anymore suicidal thoughts and felt almost refreshed upon leaving the hospital. Sure, she had missed a month's worth of school and would have to spend the entire summer catching back up, but it was better than nothing. She didn't even care so much for the fact that kids in school were probably gossiping about her to no end. So what? It wasn't any one's business except Calista's.
The first thing Calista did after being released surprised even her parents. Actually, her parents grounded her for another month when they found their daughter coming home with fresh, black ink on her skin. Calista had visited a tattoo parlor and requested for simple lettering across both her wrists. Her left one carried the word "Just" and her right one carried the word "Breathe." It was to be a reminder to her that she never wanted to be that low in her life again. She never wanted to die again, regardless of how depressed she would become again down the road. There was so much worth living for and she didn't want to miss a second of it.
And from that day forward, she vowed the tattoo needle was the last thing that ever touched her wrists.