How I Got Here (8 page)

They didn’t take me to talk to the police, or even to the principal. They hadn’t called my parents to tell them what had happened. It wasn’t anything that I expected; they walked me to a room next to the nurses’ office, where the school therapist had her office.

The girl who lit my hair on fire got a warning, and a week of detention after school; I got thrown in daily sessions with the school therapist. Apparently cutting off your own hair shows way worse judgment than setting someone else’s hair on fire. That’s what the school thought anyway, and they think I’m the crazy one.

River

Chapter Eight

Session 4

‘Amanda I need my keys, have you seen them anywhere?’ Oliver pulls up a cushion on the couch and tosses it to the floor, ‘I really can’t be late Amanda, where on earth are they?’

‘Try the fridge, Tiff likes to put things in the fridge, last night I found my hairdryer in the fridge.’ Amanda calls back from the bathroom, where she is curling her hair; she switches off the curling iron and leans against the doorframe. The bathroom has now been entirely taken over by Tiff and Amanda, with frilly things all over.

‘The fridge, you’ve got to be kidding.’ He shakes his head, but goes over to check anyway.

‘I didn’t think you had work today, it’s Saturday, and you don’t usually work on the weekend.’

‘I didn’t say I was going to work.’ He replies as he pulls open the large fridge, coming face to face with a pair of his shoes, a tie he’d been looking for, and sure enough his keys were there, lying on a pot of last
night’s leftovers. ‘Can you please get Tiff to stop putting things in the fridge?’ He whips out the other items and throws them onto the table.

‘I wish I could but I can’t, she likes it too much, sorry.’ Amanda shrugs, ‘If you’re not going to work, then where are you going?’ Amanda asks, folding her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow.

‘I do have a social life you know.’ He defends.

‘No you don’t, the only friends you have are college friends, none of whom live in New York, and you haven’t made any friends here, because you’re always too busy at work. So no, you don’t have a social life.’ She counters instantly. He hesitates for a second, his mind debating what to tell her, considering telling her he’s taken up a hobby of some sort, but in the end, he decides to tell her the truth, because she’ll know if he’s lying to her.

‘I’m going to the hospital.’

‘You just said you weren’t going to work.’

‘So? You know sis the hospital does still exist when I’m not on duty, the building doesn’t vanish into thin air.’ He shrugs his shoulders, pulling his phone from its charger and dropping it into his bag, he can tell by the look on is sisters face that she isn’t pleased.

‘Don’t be so sarcastic, I hate it when you do that. Just be serious for a second.’ Amanda rolls her eyes, ‘I realize that the hospital still exists when you aren’t on duty, what I don’t understand is why you would chose to go to the hospital, not only for long shifts every week, but on your day off as well.’

‘I’m going to visit someone.’

‘You don’t know anyone in New York, who are you visiting?’

‘Amanda it really isn’t any of your business where I’m going, why I’m going, or who I’m going to see.’ He pulls the bag up onto his shoulder.

‘You’re going to see that patient of yours aren’t you, the one you’re so obsessed with.’

‘I am not obsessed Amanda.’ He counters sharply, ‘She’s a girl who needs my help and I want to help her, she needs someone to talk to, and she feels like she can talk to me, which is a huge step in her recovery, so don’t try and make out like it’s a crazy obsession of mine, because
that
, that isn’t obsession, I just care what happens to her.’ He ends the conversation by walking out of the apartment, pausing for a moment outside, and leaning against his door, dropping his head against the wood and closing his eyes, calming himself by breathing slowly.

He pulls into the parking lot five minutes before he is due to be meeting River, it’s been a week since they went to the park, a week since she had the panic attack, a week since she told him she’d almost drowned once, and a week of visits where she’d begun to put her walls back up. Today, he was expecting there to be another letter, he wasn’t sure what made him think that, he just had this feeling that she would have written something for him today. It’s that eagerness that is pushing him to run towards the ward. At least it was partly the eagerness to receive a letter; his rush also had something to do with his plans. It was hot today, the hottest day of the summer so far, and he had a plan to get her into the sunshine. He wasn’t going to risk taking her to the park again, not so soon after the last visit, because the staff at the hospital were already suspicious about her disappearance, he had tried to explain that he had taken her out into the hospital grounds, but if they kept on going off site then the staff would get even more suspicious. More than that though, he was afraid that she would have another panic attack, still he knew he needed to get her out again, so that she could enjoy the summer weather. He had seen how relaxed she’d become down at that little pond, he could tell that being outside agreed with her.

He made it to her room just in time, slightly out of breath and needing to sit down, it was far too hot outside to be running, but he didn’t want to be late. To him it felt like he would be letting her down if he turned up late, even if it was just a few minutes late. River had already been let down by so many people, he didn’t want to be one of those people.

‘Did you run here?’ She clutches her notebook to her chest, her eyes widening slightly at the thought of him running to meet her, and at his slightly disheveled appearance. He takes a moment to get his breath back before speaking, gratefully accepting the glass of water she holds out for him. Then once he has recovered enough, he places the glass down and clears his throat.

‘I didn’t want to be late.’ He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

‘You didn’t need to run up here, I wouldn’t have fallen apart if you were a few minutes late.’ She teases, ‘And it is a big deal, that was really sweet of you.’

‘Well I wanted to get here on time because I had an idea.’

‘If it’s scrabble again then I’m seriously worried about you, because no guy should like getting beaten that much.’ She smiles, it’s easy and relaxed, and her tone is light and teasing. He can tell how much more comfortable she is today than she’d been all week, and he wonders what it is that’s made the shift in her. Perhaps he was right he thinks, and she had written a new letter, taking another piece of her story and passing it to him.

‘It’s not scrabble, my pride is still recovering from our last match, and this is more along the lines of an outing – well an outing of sorts.’ He grins.

‘An outing of sorts, you’ve intrigued me.’ She speaks easily but he notices her tighten her grip on the notebook. He can see the anxiety about going out into the public again.

‘I thought we could go up to the roof.’ He watches her relax again, the roof was safe, it was quiet, she could handle the roof,
because she could sit and relax in the sun, not having to worry about crowds of people.

‘Is that allowed?’ She can’t help but smile, even though she knows it might be against hospital policy, she’s excited by the idea of going up to the roof, being in the open air.

‘Staff members are allowed on the roof, not many people take advantage of it and go up there. Actually I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone up there, not in a while at least.’ He leans back in his chair, ‘It’s entirely up to you.’

‘I think I’d like to go.’ She swings her legs over the side of the bed, pointing her toes as she does.

‘Good, come on then.’ He offers her his hand to help her up; she doesn’t have a drip in today, so it’s easier to get out. Again though Oliver is aware that he shouldn’t be getting so close to her, and she picks up on his slight hesitation.

‘Lead the way and I’ll follow behind.’ She drops his hand a
nd smiles at him steadily, her hands shaking the smallest bit as they drop to her side, one hand empty now, and the other still holding the notebook.

‘Ok.’ He nods, clears his throat then steps into the hall, they walk through the halls easily, keeping enough distance that nobody would think they were together, most people don’t seem to notice either one of them, the young man with scruffy dark hair, walking along dressed in jeans and a hoody, not his typical shirt and smart trousers he’d wear when on duty; and following behind him at a safe distance on the opposite side of the hall, a young skinny girl with dark brown hair falling to her tiny waist, dressed in a calf length beige dress, and walking the halls barefoot.
In any other place she would have probably been noticed, but here there were always patients walking around barefooted, or in slippers, so she didn’t look out of place at all, and he could easily pass for a visitor.

Once they make it to the roof he turns to face her, making sure she’s not starting to panic, he is pleased to see that she looks fine, in fact though her face looks a little paler, she is smiling softly, taking in the view of the city, she’s looking he
althier than she has in a while, especially with the sunlight catching her hair as it blows in the gentle breeze.

‘What do you think?’ He takes her hand again, leading her further onto the roof, helping her navigate the metal pipes that run across the floor, until they reach a clear spot near the fenced off edge. On the clear spot he’d placed a blanket and some cushions, when he had come up here the day before to get things ready. She smiles and squeezes his hand for a brief second.

‘It’s amazing.’ She lets go of his hand and walks over to the blanket, sitting down with her legs curled beneath her. From her position she can look through the metal railings, out across the large and busy city. He sits down beside her, his knees bent to keep him balanced upright.

‘I’m glad you like it.’ He smiles warmly. They both fall into silence, not an uncomfortable silence, because both of them are content in their own heads, thinking things over, enjoying the sunshine and the view of the city they both love. Eventually though she breaks the silence.

‘I wrote the next letter.’ She opens the notebook while she speaks; keeping her eyes down as she takes out the single page and hands it to him.

‘Do you want me to read it now? Or would you prefer I read it when we go back to the ward?’ He asks as he holds letter carefully in his hands, using every last spec of self-control he possesses not to start reading it right away.

‘You can read it now; I’m going to enjoy the sun.’ She closes her eyes and lies down on the blanket, placing a cushion under her head. He keeps his eyes on her for a few seconds more, and then turns his attention to the letter in his hand.

He has to stop reading on more than one occasion, look over at her peacefully lying with her eyes closed, in order to keep the anger he feels at a reasonable level. What these girls had done to her was unforgivable, they didn’t realize the effect of their words, and most of them probably just sent emails to fit in, they probably did it simply because it was what everyone else was doing. Now though Oliver was realizing that they were going much further, they were getting to the point where they were physically harming her, for a laugh. He dreaded to think of them getting worse.

He starts to read the remainder of the letter, about what she’d done to her hair, and again at this moment he has to look at her. It had been over a year since she’d chopped off her hair, and the damage was no longer noticeable, her silky dark brown hair fell in waves to her waist, and he recalled her telling him once that her hair grew fast, he doesn’t even remember why they were talking about it, but now he wonders if she’d been thinking about this event.

Once he’s finished with the letter he folds it into his bag, tucking it away with the others, which he will go over again later, as he always does when he receives a new one, he starts from the beginning and sees how the new piece fits. He doesn’t speak for a while, just sits and stares over the city, which is bathed in the golden afternoon light. Below them people rush by on foot and in cars, hurrying from one place to the next, worrying about being late for something, or stressing over work or family, thinking about bills and financial trouble, all of them with a million things racing through their minds, going at a hundred miles per hour. The city which he is watching is never quiet, it’s always chaotic in some way, and right now he feels no different, he has a million things racing through his own head, and he wonders if River is feeling the same, even though she looks so calm right now.

He’s trying to find a way to help her, but bit by bit he’s starting to realize that he already is helping her, he doesn’t need to know her whole story before he can start to help, because telling her story is already freeing her from the pain, it’s helping her a little bit more with each page, but it’s still not enough, not yet. He turns his head to look at her, noticing that her eyes are open, and she’s been looking at him while he was lost in thought; when his eyes meet hers they both freeze for a second, before she looks away and sits up with her knees to her chest.

‘You finished the letter?’

‘Yeah I did.’ He nods his head slowly, keeping his eyes on her even though she is looking away, keeping her gaze firmly on the red and brown blanket beneath them.

‘What did you think?’ She asks as if asking for a review on a book and not a part of her life that she’d written down.

‘I think your school needs to rethink their punishments, that girl set fire to your hair, she caused you physical pain with those burns, as well as huge amounts of emotional damage, yet all she gets is detention! She should have been expelled, or they should have called the police, they should have done something more.’ He shakes his head in quiet anger.

‘Her father was very rich.’ River shrugs her shoulders, focusing her gaze ahead of her.

‘That doesn’t make it right.’ He replies instantly.

‘No – but it makes it a lot easier to sweep under the rug. I can’t even say anything about it, because my parents have used their money to sweep things away before. It just turned out that this
time; the other girl’s parents were richer, so they carried more persuasion.’ River looks over at him, ‘Don’t give me that look; I know the whole system is broken, I don’t agree with it, but it’s how things work at that school.’

‘I don’t understand how people can get away with that, letting innocent people get hurt, because they’ll earn a good profit.’ Oliver rubs his hand over his forehead. ‘I don’t understand it.’

‘That’s because you’re so,’

‘Poor?’ He smirks.

‘Kind hearted.’ She counters with a light laugh. ‘You know as far as I can see, you’re surrounded by good people, I wasn’t. I was surrounded by greed. That school is the center of it all, the “must have” generation of kids. All of them just doing whatever they like, getting whatever they want, and getting away with everything, because they’re rich. It’s part of why my mom changed my grades, because she wanted more for me, so she just reached out and took it, I can’t blame her entirely, it was just how she was raised.’ River explains as best she can her thoughts, though in her mind they are a lot more complicated, and a lot more angry.

‘You weren’t raised that way, you see things as they really are, you can see the way things should be done, and you can see that money shouldn’t be at the root of everything. You don’t take whatever you want, or shove people over to get to where you want to be.’ Oliver points out.

‘No well you can thank my father for that. He wasn’t brought up in this world; he came from a very poor background, and he built his way up honestly, with a lot of hard work and trial and error, but now he’s successful and earns a lot of money, but for the most part he’s the same man, and he taught me to do things the right way, the fair and honest way. I get most of it from my father; the rest is just my own opinions, my own judgments. My father opened my eyes to other kinds of life; it was up to me what I saw with them.’ River leans herself back slightly to look up at the sky, the white clouds drifting slowly across it. Oliver is quiet for a while, taking in everything she just said.

‘I like how you put that, I’ve never thought of it like that before, your parents open your eyes, but you chose how you see things.’ He shakes his head, ‘I spent time doing a psychiatric rotation, and I couldn’t have come up with anything like that. I’m impressed.’

‘It’s not that impressive, it’s just the way I see things.’ River keeps her eyes ahead of her, feeling her cheeks start to color. ‘Why do you care? I mean I’m just another patient right?’

‘No – you’re not.’ He shakes his head and then looks back out over the city, trying to get his thoughts in line, so he can express things more eloquently like she just did, but she speaks before he can say anything.

‘I’m nothing special.’ He knows that she’s not saying it to get compliments; she truly believes that she isn’t special.

‘River come here,’ He stands up and offers his hand to her, she looks at him in confusion for a few seconds, but then complies without question, sliding her hand into his and allowing herself to be pulled up, he keeps hold of her hand and walks her to the edge. ‘You see all those people down there?’ He points his spare hand down over the railings, to the busy street.

‘Yeah I see them.’ She leans a little over the railings to get a better view.

‘Every single one of them is special, they all matter to somebody even if they don’t realize it, and it can be the smallest little thing that makes them special, from saving someone’s life, to helping someone across the street. Every person matters and everyone is special. You’ve been through a lot and look at you, you’re still standing, still willing to try and fight against it, you’re strong and you’re kind. Do you remember the first thing you ever said to me?’

‘Not really.’ She shrugs trying to think back to the day she’d first spoken to him, it wasn’t the first time they’d met, it was later than that, before she’d decided to ask him what he wanted her to do, it had been a while before that, and maybe her speaking to him then, was what had made him come up with the letter idea, because he realized hope wasn’t lost for her. Whatever she’d said that day, she was glad that she’d said it.

‘It was a really busy day, and I was completely stressed out, I had just lost a patient and wasn’t doing so good, I came to check on you and you asked me if I was ok, do you see what I mean?’

‘Not really.’ She says again.

‘You hadn’t spoken a word in weeks, you were going through so much stuff, but I looked unhappy and so you asked me if I was ok, that kind of compassion is special, you noticed I wasn’t doing well, and it concerned you enough to make you speak, even though you were in a bad place yourself. So don’t ever say you’re not special, because I don’t want to hear it.’ Oliver states this last part firmly, though he’d begun speaking in a caring tone, he’d needed to put that last point across firmly.

Chapter Nine

Letter 5

You’re nice; did anyone ever tell you that before? I bet they have because honestly Oliver, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with a heart like yours, and I’m not just saying that because you’re helping me, or because you bought me that new notebook, which by the way I love. Those are just a couple of the reasons why you’re nice. I guess I should have guessed you were going to be a good guy, because why else would you dedicate yourself to figuring out my mess, it doesn’t make sense because lesser people would give up, in fact plenty of good people have already given up on me, which proves how special and nice you are. So I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate it, because it’s easier to write it down, but I would never want you to think I didn’t appreciate what you’re doing. So I just thought I would open up this letter with a note to you, because you deserve to know how special you are. I think if there had been someone in my life who could have done that for me, been there and been so unwaveringly kind, I never would have ended up in this place.

I don’t want to put all of the blame on other people though; I know that I played a role in getting where I am. I didn’t handle things well back then, and I can try and justify it by saying I was a kid, I was going through a lot, and I couldn’t cope, but that’s just a stupid excuse, I should have been better able to handle things. I was offered lifelines at times, for instance after the hair incident, I was told I had to go and see the therapist, but I couldn’t face sitting there and talking about what was going on, some part of me wanted to pretend that none of it was real, like if I just kept it to myself, it wouldn’t be real, I wanted to distance myself from the problems, so I didn’t ever show up to any of the sessions. I look back on that choice now and think I made the wrong one; it probably would have helped if I’d talked to someone then, and things might not have gotten this bad. At the time I remember thinking there was no point going, what could they really do to help me? They couldn’t punish the entire school for bullying me, they wouldn’t be able to, and I told myself that they wouldn’t even try. I was scared that they wouldn’t believe me, because my brother hadn’t, he’d thought I was overreacting, and that had knocked me a lot
, so I just decided it would be easier to handle it on my own. That however meant that I had to put on the appearance of being ok, and that involved turning up to school more often, and trying to seem interested in what I was learning. So I started attending classes everyday again, I tried my hardest to keep my grades at a good passing level, and to catch up on all the work I had missed. I was doing quite well academically speaking. The social side of school still gave me nightmares, I used to stay up all night worried over what they might do, feeling shaken and sick before anything ever happened, because I knew that inevitably something would happen. There always was something, it seemed like playing tricks on me had become sport to them, I suppose they might not have thought much of it, they were bored high school students looking for some fun, and filling my locker with soapy water was fun for them, and fine I could probably have seen the funny side once, but what each person didn’t seem to realize, was that all of their pranks born out of boredom, were all directed at me, because Kim’s dislike of me had started a trend, they needed someone to play a prank on, Kim gave them someone. My mother changing my grades, that was a bonus for them, they now had some justification for what they were doing. To them it must have seemed like no big deal, because take one isolated event and it isn’t too earth shattering, it’s just a prank, but start adding them up, and mix them in with the ever increasing emails, and you’ve got just about more than I can handle.

Just when I thought going to school couldn’t get any worse though, there was the dance. I think I mentioned before that my mother, before she left her job at the school, was arranging a dance with a local boy’s school, well the time had arrived for that dance, and I was not planning on going. As you can probably guess, I had no desire or intention of going to a dance with a bunch of kids who hated me, who would want to do that?

This is where Jasper comes into the story, and before you ask because I know you’ll ask, he isn’t my boyfriend, never was and never will be. He was a guy that I’d met at a previous school event, a bake sale I think, which our schools had put on to raise money for some arts foundation, and then we’d met again when we’d both volunteered for a building project through the school, and while we hadn’t exactly become friends, we knew each other and had always been friendly with one another.