bad days.

I was taking a myspace survey last night. And one of the questions was "Describe the worst day of your life." Well, I got thinking about it. And I decided Ive had three days that are all tied for that position.




DAY ONE:
It was a little after 10 on a monday night, in early October of 2005. I was in my room, writing in my journal, as I did every night. I was writing about what a great weekend it had been. We hadn't had school that day, or the previous friday because it was our Columbus Day Weekend. Some family friends, from Boston and Canada, had spent the weekend with us. Along with my best friend, Richard. He was my ex boy friend, but when we broke up, he stayed close to the family. My dad had become a father like figure to him, since his was across the country. That night, my little brother was already in bed, and my dad was watching TV in the living room. I heard the doorbell ring, and the dog started barking. I quickly went to the kitchen to quiet him, and my dad answered the door. He went outside, but eventually came back inside, two men following him. They were dressed casually, and I didnt recognize them. He told me he had to go down to the police station because Richard had been missing for a while that day, and he was at the station now. He told me to call my mom, and wake up Keenan, my little brother. So I called my mom to have her come get us, and my dad went to his room to change. The two men stood in silence while I called my mom. She sounded upset, but I thought nothing of it. When I hung up the phone, one of the men said to me, "She'll be here before you know it." And he smiled, a sympathetic smile.
"I know," I said politely.
Just then, my dad walked into the living room, hugged me and kissed my forehead, and said "I love you, princess." And then he left with the men. I went to my room, but as soon as I was in there, I heard the front door open. My mom lived close-about 10 minutes away-but there was no way she could have made at there that quickly. I went to the living room, and sure enough, there was my mom. And she was crying. 'Why is she crying,' Was all I could think. I went to her and hugged her, and she walked me to the couch. She sat me down and told me what happened, and I began to cry. Eventually, Keenan heard us crying, and came down stairs. He sat on the other side of my mom, and she began to tell him.
"Buddy, your daddy is in trouble. The police think he did something very bad. Someone made a phone call to the police station, and told them that Daddy touched Richard in a bad way. You guys are going to come stay with me for a while. You dont have to go to school tomorrow, but we have to go see a lady, and you guys will have to answer some questions, okay?"
Keenan began to cry, too. But he was confused. I knew the police were wrong. It couldnt possibly be true. Someone made a mistake. Someone was lying. Either way, it just wasn't true. The next day, we had to go see a lady named Jen Yaun. She was a caseworker, and she seemed very nice. Keenan and I each had to talk to her alone, in a small room, and we had to be recorded. So, I went first. I sat in a chair, and she sat in another, facing me. She asked me a ton of questions. Who Richard was, why he was always at our house, how often was he there, where did he sleep. Questions that, I thought, the answers to, were all harmless. She asked me if my dad had ever touched me inappropriately, to which, of course, the answer was no, never. She asked me if I'd ever seen him touch my brother or Richard that way, and once again the answer was no, never. I spent an hour and a half in there with her. And near the end, she told me that my dad was a bad man. She told me she believed the police, and that just because he was my dad, didnt mean he wasnt a monster. I had already been crying, but that made me cry worse, and that made me furious. I stopped talking, told her I wanted to leave, and I had nothing more to say to her. Next, my brother talked to her, and he was in there for about two hours. When he came down stairs, my mom, sister and I were waiting for him, and after my mom talked to Jen for a while, we left. On the way to the car, Jen told me she was glad she got to meet me, she gave me her card and told me I could call her if I ever needed her. I just glared at her and walked away.




DAY TWO:
I did something unspeakable when I was at my summer camp in the summer of 2006. I will tell you this. It was bad, very bad. It was illegal. And it broke my heart. In the end, I lost someone who was very important to me, and someone who left a huge impact on my life, and who I am today. I knew the possible consequences, but I had never thought it would come down to them. I remember hearing the news from one of the staff members that I was close to, because he was friends with my dad. I considered him my "camp dad". He told me that this person, whose name will be known as Jac, was leaving. She was packing now, and I wasnt allowed to see her. I broke down. I fell to the ground and began crying. I had to apologize to her, I had to say goodbye. I got up, and ran to the office, though it was half a mile up the hill. The whole time, another staff member I was friends with, was running behind me. His name was Yonaton. He wasnt going to stop me, just wanted to keep an eye out for me. When I got to the office, no one was there. I grabbed a paper and pen, and quickly wrote a letter to her. I was crying, and I couldnt breathe. My next thought was that she was at the cabin. Yonaton gave me a ride on the golf cart to the cabin, and I slowly walked up the stairs to the porch when I got there. I wasnt sure if I should just walk in, or knock. So I stood there for a few moments. Finally, I opened the door, and stared down the aisle between all of the beds. Hers was the last one on the right, and it was completely cleaned out. I walked, taking small, slow, baby steps. I was dizzy. I felt sick. When I reached her bed, I stood there, staring at it in disbelief. How could this happen? I collapsed onto it, and began crying to myself. After about ten minutes, I sat up. As I stared at the wall, I thought about everything that had happened the past few days. I thought about what a mess I had caused, and how many people I'd hurt. I left the cabin, and sat down on the stairs outside. Yonaton asked me if I was okay. I told him I was fine, but asked if I could just be alone. He hesitated, but agreed. He got in the golf cart and drove away. I was left in the woods, the dark consuming me externally, while the pain consumed me internally. I stared at the rocks on the ground. I stared at the rubber band on my wrist, and decided snapping it wouldnt work anymore. I stared back at the rocks. I thought about Jac, and how she told me she use to cut when she was depressed. I thought about a few of my friends from camp, Jenna, and Kate and some others, telling me about how they use to cut. I searched the rocks. I saw one with a sharp edge, inviting me and offering me a release. I looked around and went to pick it up. As I sat back down, I held the rock firmly in my right hand, and held it against my thigh. I stared at it for a moment, I thought about what I had done, about who I had hurt, about what I had lost. I pushed it into my skin, and slid it across my skin, just barely tearing the skin. I felt chills crawl up my spine, and I sighed, slightly relieved. I lifted it from my skin, and threw it. I stood up and ran into the cabin, ignorning the lights and slamming the door behind me. I found a thumb tack, and traced the line from the rock, pushing deep into the skin. The second I finished, and lifted the tiny weapon, I heard voices. I quickly stuck the pin in the wall, and the door to the cabin opened. The lights came on, and a group of happy, giggly teenage girls grew dead silent, and stared at me, glaring. I had my hand over my thigh; their looks were from pure hatred and anger. Silenty and slowly, they all filed into the cabin, and I quickly changed into longer shorts on, and walked out, ignoring my counselor yelling at me to stay. I walked to the office, and soon found out my dad was on his way. I left the next morning.




DAY THREE:
I had broken up with Kate. I had left her for Amy. Amy was mine, she loved me, she told me she did. And God, was I in love with her. I was hers. I would have done anything for her, and she knew that. She was away on vacation, with the family she lived with for a week, and everything was fine while she was there. But when she came back, she told me she had changed her mind. She told me she didnt want me anymore. Kate was at my house that day, she was still my best friend, and she held me while I cried. But this must be known- this wasnt the bad day. This just hurt. A couple days later, I learned that the reason Amy had left me, was because she started liking Kate. And Kate had started liking her too. I was furious, knowing that Kate had held me while I cried, knowing full well that she was the reason Amy was leaving me. Not to mention, I had left Amy for Kate... How could it have possibly back fired this way? However, this wasnt the bad day either. I was at Kates one day, a couple weeks later. We had just made up a little bit, and we were sitting in her car. She was constantly texting, and I was of course curious to know what she was texting Amy about. So, when Kate went inside to grab a CD, I looked through her phone. Yes, it was wrong, but I never would have known the truth if I hadnt. For days, I had been asking her if she loved her. I had been asking if she was falling for her. I wanted to know what was going on between them. She told me they just liked eacother and that was it. As I read the text from Amy to her, I stopped breathing. I only read that one text. All it said was: "Im falling for you, too. God, I am." I hate that I still remember it word for word, but I dont know how to block things out of my memory like other people can. I quickly closed the phone, put it back in the spot I found it, and stared out the window. I was shaking. I didnt know what to do, or say, or think. Kate got in the car, and she had no idea that anything was wrong. She said something, that I didnt hear because I had too much else going on in my head. I said that I had to leave. She asked why. All I could think to do was ask her if she was falling for Amy.
"No, I told you, Im not."
"Is she falling for you?"
"Not that Im aware of."
"Has she said shes falling for you?"
"Not that I remember."
I opened the car door, and left. I couldnt be lied to anymore. I couldnt sit there and feel the betrayal as it swam through my veins, poisoning my every thought and feeling. I walked down the road, to the tracks. I followed the tracks all the way to black bridge. Kate was attempting to text me and call me. But I wouldn't answer. I knew what my intentions were. I wanted to run away. I wanted to disappear, and not be found. I wanted to leave, and never look back. I wanted to curl up in a ball and disintegrate into nothing. Finally, when I reached the bridge, I answered her phone call. She asked me where I was. I told her it didnt matter. She asked me what I was doing. I told her it didnt matter. Before hanging up, I told her I was at black bridge, and that I didnt want to talk to her anymore. I told her how I was in too much pain to even think. I hung up on her, and thats when more texts began coming in. Amy began texting me, Kate continued texting me, and my other friend, who was best friends with Amy, began texting me too.
I ignored everything, and left the bridge. I walked to my favorite place, somewhere that no one knew was my favorite place. I walked to Cemetary Hill, and sat there, crying. I found glass on the tracks walking there, and I tore up my thighs with it, ripping at the skin as much as possible, bleeding as much as possible. I answered a text from Amy, and eventually, we began fighting, and my cuts went deeper. Finally, Kate found me. I wouldnt go near her. I wanted nothing to do with her. She had realized what had happened. She knew she was busted. I was falling apart, and she was my best friend, trying to put me back together, but I didnt want anything to do with her. But after a while, I gave in, and fell apart in her arms. She hugged me, as we sat in the middle of the woods, and I cried. Soon, she convinced me to go back to her house with her. She tucked me under the covers of her bed, and I cried, and cried, and cried. Amy was still fighting with me. I guess rumors had gone between the three of them that I was gonna jump off of the bridge, or off of the top of cemetary hill. And after I had calmed down a little bit, Amy texted me and said one simple thing. Another line, that I unfortunately cannot forget. "Wouldve been better if youdve jumped." And my world closed in on me. How was it possible for someone to say that to another person? How was it possible that the person I was so in love with, so crazy about, could just tell me I shouldve killed myself? She didnt want me around, that was clear. And I was going to make sure she got what she wanted... That was until Kate made me stay the night, and wouldnt let me out of her sight.





Are you wondering what happened in the end? I lived through it all. I survied, and I was made stronger. You may be thinking that "those days really werent that bad." But Im here to tell you that they were. And they were only the beginning of the really bad times I went through, which could explain why they are marked as even worse days in my memory.
My dad was proven innocent, of course. And after the summer of 2006, we were allowed to move back in with him. Jac and I talked, lost contact, found each other on facebook and talked, and at this point, were drifting apart. Kate is still my best friend. Amy and her are not together. And Amy and I are friends. Ive moved on from both of them. Its just proof that everything is good in the end. If its not good, its not the end.