• When we are little kids, we all sometimes say: “But that’s no fair!”
    And we all get the response: “Life’s not fair. Deal with it.”
    If I would have known how true that statement was, maybe I could have prepared myself for what happened in my life: I got hurt, a lot. Now I am somewhat healing, I am stronger than anyone could ever know.
    Love. That’s what carved me into the person I am today. Not in a good way. People talk about love like it’s beautiful and supposed to make you into the happiest person on Earth.
    When in reality, putting all of my adolescent anger and angst aside, love is the worst thing that could possibly happen to you.
    At first it’s amazing, your whole universe revolves around your significant other and you feel unstoppable. But eventually, things change and you feel like dying. It may take weeks, it may take decades, but it is inevitable that the parasite we call “love” will creep inside your ribcage and fester, eating away at your heart and spitting acid into your lungs with every break up, every lie, and every broken promise.
    Now when I hear people talk about love, I am hit with an almost unbearable since of dread. I look composed at first glance, but look beyond that and you will see that I am doubled over in pain, frantically gathering pieces of myself off the floor. I will never be complete again.









    Everything started last September. I met a boy named Kye and he said he loved me and I believed him and I loved him back. A few months later my life caved in on me and I became distant, a mystery he couldn’t solve. I broke things off between us because I didn’t know what I was feeling, and I didn’t want to see him get hurt. I did not expect that I would never get over him, and I certainly did not expect all of our memories together would haunt me day and night.
    For a few months afterwards I was a miserable marionette doll.
    I was forever suspended in midair, held together by a complex system of rusty hooks and wires. The hooks dug into my skin and I winced with every tug as I was pulled through the motions of the daily routine: “No, I’m fine, I really mean it”. Lie. Smile. Walk. “Nothing’s wrong just a headache.” Go home. Cry. Cut. Puke. Lay awake thinking about him. Toss and turn and consider my nightmares as sleep. Roll out of bed. Paint my face on: Beautiful. Repeat.
    When the strings that pulled me around entangled around each other, and the wires rusted into dust, my deadly puppet show was no longer in my control, and my strings were attached on the Universe alone. It was dangerous.
    In October, my best friend’s little brother began to die, and my other close friend was running out of reasons to live. And because my fake strength was falling apart, I was not strong enough for them and had no reasons for living that I could say.
    So I broke down and texted him. He was doing fine with a new girlfriend, Krissy. “Yeah… I’m over us.” Are the four words he said that finally triggered my earthquakes. My pain was blended into liquid above my head and was poured into my skull where my brain put it into words that spilled out of my mouth for him to hear. “I still care about you.” “I’m not strong enough to move on like you did.” “I couldn’t give her reasons to live… I couldn’t” “He’s only seven and dying…” “I’m too weak to help her through it.” “Please take me back…” “I need you, Kye…”
    At first I watched him consider. And he led me on for a couple days and I was dangling on a thread that he held. And do you know what he said to me? “I loved you for almost a year. And you’re too late to tell me you have feelings. I know what you’re up to! No, no, no I won’t do that to Krissy. She’s fragile.”
    Then I remember falling. I fell and fell. And I cried and watched my many tears form the freezing ocean that I landed in. I sank and nearly drowned. When I floated up, my head finally broke through the waves and I could breathe, I swam out of it in agony, telling myself: “What does he mean I’m too late? Feelings like that don’t just go away. It’s not possible to say- ‘Well I loved you last month, but this month is a no-go.’ And Krissy? Fragile? I knew her, the only problems she had were that her parents were getting divorced and fought a few times. That makes her fragile? I can’t name three people whose parents aren’t divorced, including me. He never cared about me at all did he? Well fine! If he wants to be with that stupid, baboon-faced, lying, bit** then he can! When he comes crawling back, I’ll make him feel what I’m feeling now…” I kept swimming and reconstructing myself, and when I reached shore, I made myself perfection.









    Now it’s December. Kye and I are just friends. He’s still with Krissy, despite the fact he knows I still care about him. I am sitting in my therapist’s office because my mom walked in on me burning myself and forcing myself to throw up in the bathroom a few weeks ago. She overreacted. Those things just feel good, I’m fine.
    I sigh and stare at my blue Osiris’ until Dr. Kelson comes in. I nod at her as a way of acknowledging her presence. “Improving, Miss Nikohlas?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow.
    “I’m too perfect to improve.” I lied confidently, sitting straight up and secretly constructing my mask onto my face.
    She ignored this, “I think it will do you some good to have a chat with some people who are also struggling. Would you like to meet them?”
    “Nah, no thanks.” I said, but she opened the door and led me into a different room anyway. I noticed the sign by the door read Anger Management Services, but things in this whole whack-job-operation are never where they are supposed to be.
    When I walked in behind Dr. Kelson, I saw a circle of four chairs. Three were occupied by a guy with snake bites, a girl with fiery red hair and dark circles under her eyes, and Krissy. You’ve got to be kidding. I sat in the remaining seat across from her, with snake-bites-boy to my left, and the red-head to my right. I fixed my posture and made myself consciously aware of my expressions and movement, all perfectly choreographed in my mind to intimidate Krissy. She held the same thousand-mile-gaze that all ignorant girls do. Why the heck is she here? “Sadie, would you like to introduce yourself?” I rolled my eyes and stood up.
    “I am Sadie Nikohlas. I don’t need to be here so I apologize for wasting your precious time.” I said, making eye contact with everyone and smiling charmingly through my mask, flipping my blue bangs out of my eyes with practiced grace. Snake-bites-boy took a second glance and Krissy immediately looked away from me and turned red. Mission accomplished.
    “We all need to be here to heal, Sadie. I know your story and you need to be here more than anybody. So let us begin, shall we?” Dr. Kelson said, sounding like a broken record. “We are here to talk about our problems with anger and depression.”
    That caught me off guard. “What?” I asked and began to rose, “Sorry doctor but I am not depressed or angry. I’m fine.” Snake-bites smirked and the red-head giggled.
    “Miss Nikohlas, you feel depressed because you are scared, you are scared because you are angry, you are angry because you are hurt. And you are here so you can fix the hurt.” Dr. Kelson said. She was really beginning to set me off today.
    “And I’m hurt because I have to deal with this crap.” I murmured under my breath, only audible to snake-bites and red-head. Who both smirked, impressed by how I successfully ruined the start of Dr. Kelson’s useless discussion. I shot another look at Krissy to let her know she shouldn’t be here.
    “Now, let’s start by going around and introducing ourselves. Cade?” Dr. Kelson began.
    Snake-bites-boy stood up. “I’m Cade.” He just grimaced and sat back down.
    Krissy stood up next. “I’m Krissy…” she said looking at me nervously and carefully sat back down.
    The red-head stood up and said “I’m Sabrina.” I respected her confidence, unlike Krissy.
    “Good, good.” Dr. Kelson added. “Now does anyone have any questions they’d like to ask each other?”
    Everyone besides me looked at each other awkwardly, my eyes were on Krissy. “Why are you here, Krissy?” I asked, as pleasantly as I could manage.
    “Oh…” She started, embarrassed, “my parents are getting a divorce.” I hid my enragement at that. Who the hell cares? Everyone’s parents are divorced, including mine, except mine still live in the same house together.
    Cade, Sabrina, and I, all gave her the same look. Krissy’s face turned red. I made a low growl that Sabrina could hear, and responding to my hint to say something announced: “Who the heck cares?”
    I saw that Cade was irritated too, he was grinding with teeth. “At least your parents cared for you enough in your childhood that your sad to see them split, you should be thankful for that alone you little skank.” How did I become so good at forming packs of vicious kids like me? I just sat back and watched her respond. She just stared at her hands. It’s not that I want to hurt her, this is just my territory and she shouldn’t have invaded it.
    “We do not put each other down in this room.” Dr. Kelson intervened. “Krissy is a sweet girl.”
    Those words triggered an earthquake inside me. Kye said the same thing to me. I growled, “Anyone would be a sweet girl with a life like hers!” I crossed my arms and dug my nails into my skin, wishing that Kye was there to hear my words. I was beginning to understand what Dr. Kelson said earlier, the hurt inside me does make me angry.
    “Actually,” Krissy said, “I’m tired of my parents fighting all of the time.”
    Sabrina eased back, less irritated after that. But I knew Krissy’s story. “Oh, sorry,” I faked apologized, “how bad does your dad hit you and your mom?” I said. Normal teens flinch at thoughts like these, but not the ones who belong in rooms like this
    Krissy flinched of course. “Oh. My dad hasn’t ever hit us.”
    Sabrina and Cade, just like I planned they would, got aggrivated at this.
    “You mean you’re depressed about a divorce when you don’t even get hit?” Cade asked, seeing her as the person she really is. Sabrina looked at her the same way.
    “You’re just another little skank looking for sympathy. Don’t get enough attention from you’re fake little family and friends?”
    “Oh,” Krissy said, “Kye gives me plenty of attention.” She looked me in the eye, smiling fakely. She wanted me to get up and hit her so she could run back to Kye and ruin the friendship we have. But I just smirked at her and gave her a look that let her know she will suffer slowly for that.
    “Bye skank!” Sabrina called after Krissy got up and left, because of course she wasn’t here by court or mandatory order. Cade, Sabrina, and I exchanged glances. We weren’t cruel kids; people like Krissy hurt us more than anyone could ever know. She deserved this and knew it.