“Just what this town needs, another flippin’ credit union.” She slaps the steering wheel angrily as we careen down the road towards main street. I nod my head in silent agreement and go back to staring out the window. It’s just me and her in the car, sappy pop music droning on through the speakers. I can barely hear it over the white noise of the air conditioner that’s blasting cold air into my face and making my eyes water. Mom glances over at me and hands me her phone while keeping her focus on the road. “Switch the song, I don’t know this one” I press the home button and click the fast forward arrow. She hums along lazily and looks over at me again “Someone’s awful quiet today. What’s wrong?”

     “Oh, nothing,” I respond quickly.  “Just bored, that’s all.”

     “Text Taryn then! I’m sure she’d love to hangout.”

     “Nah. She can’t. It’s her dad’s weekend.” 

     “Brooklyn, then. Weren’t you guys working on a book at some point?” I smile thoughtfully.

     “Yeah, I guess I could check.” Mom puts her fingerprint into her phone and hands it over.  Five minutes later I’m standing at Brooklyn’s front door. I knock, and after twenty seconds (I counted) the door swings open. Olive skin, brown eyes, and caramel colored hair. 

     “Hey, Hay!” she smiles, exposing rows of pearly white teeth

     “How many times have I told you that my name is Haylee, not ‘Hay’!?” 

     “A million.” I step inside and glance around her house. It’s tidy, with a staircase that leads upstairs and another one below that, it goes down to the basement where Brooklyn’s room is located. Her dog, Quill, comes trotting into the entryway and lets out a small bark. I kneel and scratch him behind the ears. “So, we have the house to ourselves. Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

     I shrug and pick the small golden retriever up, “What do you want to do?”  

“I found the Ericlyn binder.” She smirks and nods towards her room. “We can go relive our golden days.”  

“Sounds good” I respond and follow her down the stairs. From under her bed, she pulls a worn binder with faded papers sticking out of one side. She opens it, and begins leafing through the papers. We look at each other and gag at our old artwork. “Omygosh we were so terrible!” 

“Agreed, I mean, look at Blaze’s squatty legs!” she gasps with laughter, falling over.

“And Kara’s saggy figure!” It was fun in those days, back when things were easier, simpler. Back when life wasn’t as hard.  I wince slightly, remembering the pains of seventh grade. The screaming, the arguments, utter defeat, and guilt that I couldn’t fix past mistakes. 

“Man I wish we could go back in time.” Brooklyn notices my pained expression and lays a gentle hand on my shoulder. “And I wish I had been there for you during...all that.” I nod and take a deep breath, going back to the binder holding all those positive moments.  

“Oh dude, look! It’s Fred the barking bird!” 

  “Ah, ah, ah none of that. I need the full story. What the heck happened? Haylee, you haven’t told me anything.” Brooklyn looks at me, distress written on her face. She wants to know, badly, but I can’t tell her just yet. 

     “I’m just not ready, okay? ” I stop myself, realizing how I just snapped at her for no apparent reason “It’s really nothing, not important”

     “If you say so” she shrugs and closes the binder.

     Hours later I’m back at home. Soft carpet between my toes and a guitar on my lap, I have a feeling of safety that I haven’t felt in months.  My fingers are burning, because I’ve been playing for too long. It’s a good kind of pain though, the refreshing type. The kind that reminds me that I can still feel pain.  

Six months ago everything was numb. I couldn’t feel anything. No pain, no happiness, no nothing. It all started with that Sunday. The day my brain told me it was time to end it all. The day my parents sent me to the hospital for a week.  That was the week that I was truly alone. I shake my head, dismissing the memories. ‘It’s okay Haylee, you’re okay now. No need to dwell on the past’ But that’s when I remember. The look of amusement in my friend’s eyes as I pleaded with her to not let go. To never let go.  My breath quickens, I stand, my guitar clattering to the carpeted ground. Dashing upstairs, I run to the medicine cabinet and fling the door open. The medicine bottle labeled “Haylee Fletcher” in big bold letters is sitting on the edge of one of the shelves. Next thing I know I’m swallowing several pills and gripping the edge of the marble counter.  

After composing myself, I wander downstairs and plop onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling numbly. A memory flashes through my brain. I can’t see it clearly, but I can hear it. 

  “I’m cutting all ties with you”  The voice is muted, almost as if someone is speaking it through glass. It’s my voice, somewhat scratchy and worn out.

     “Fine” another voice replies.

I shake my head, dismissing the memory as I slowly drift off to sleep.

     “I know, I missed you too” I mutter and stroke it’s matted fur, “Wait, what am I doing? Talking to a freaking stuffed animal that’s what.” I close my eyes for a moment and sigh, wanting so badly to go to sleep, “Pills first” I mutter groggily and tromp upstairs to the medicine cabinet. I unscrew the bottle and dump one pill into my hand. Three pills in total. They’re nasty little creatures, pills I mean. Full of chemicals that supposedly help you function in society. “Bull crap.” I smirk and toss them into my mouth, swallowing without water. 

     I can tell I’m dreaming. The posters on the walls of the middle school have blurred letters, so I can’t read them. I can hear muffled voices but the one I can discern most clearly is from a girl behind me. 

     “No, I don’t know anything about that” she lies. Without my consent, my body whips around to see a girl with black framed glasses and blonde hair. “Ashley has not been saying those things, I promise” The scene changes so rapidly it makes my head spin. 

     It’s a week before, I’m sitting in the common room of Highland Ridge Mental Facility. A girl with platinum blonde hair shaped into a pixie cut is sitting next to me. 

     “At least you have friends.” her voice is echoey and far away. The room spirals and I’m suddenly standing in the hall between the music rooms. The girl in front of me is short, with tawny colored hair and blue eyes.

     “We’re in a toxic friendship, and I can’t take it anymore…” 

      Suddenly, I’m awake, gasping for air and clutching my heart. Tears trickle down my cheeks as I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Rocking back and forth,  I lean over and grab the Ipod from my nightstand, shove my earbuds in and drown out reality. The music washes over me like a storm over the sea. It stirs another memory in my brain. Of the day I had nervously looked around the lunchroom for a place to sit and eventually chose the seat next to my old friends. How Brooklyn had thrown her arms around me and exclaimed,

‘Haylee! You’re back!’ Her voice echoes in my head as the music continues. I remember how the first day I met Taryn, I knew she would be my best friend. When we jabbered on and on about BTS, Hamilton, Marvel and other stuff we enjoy. I remember how both of them promised that they would never hurt me like those people did. I remember feeling like I was finally safe, at home. Most of all, loved.