Four Broken Pieces ✓

Three

It was a long quiet car ride home. My mother turned on the radio and Celine Dion's beautiful voice filled the tense air around us. I leaned back against the car seat and shut my eyes, my mind racing with the plan I'd concocted at the hospital.

I had a knife, hidden deep under all of my piles of clothes. It'd been my father's and when he'd died, I'd moved it to my own room cause it was absolutely beautiful and it was the only piece of him that I had left. I could use it, if I wanted to follow through with Plan B.

Then there was Plan A, a plan my weak, gutless mind had thought of to avoid Plan B. I would talk to her first, beg and scream. Do whatever I could to make her understand the pain in my heart, which was slowly tearing me apart. And how I didn't think there would be anyone who could put it back together if it shattered to pieces.

I opened my eyes and glanced at my mother. The strong side profile, the petite nose, the auburn locks. We shared the same blood and we were a family. At the end of the day, I would be utterly alone in this world if it weren't for her. Everything she'd done to me hadn't been on purpose. She'd only been following her own dreams blindly.

But what I was about to do now was deliberate. I was purposely shattering her dream to save myself. Guilt swirled in my heart at the thought of hurting the woman who'd kept me alive for the last 17 years, but as the car rolled to a stop, I knew that I had to do this. I owed it to fate that had sent 3 boys my way to save my life and most importantly, I owed it to myself.

"Sweetie come on," my mom said, opening up my door and gently taking my arm. I clutched it tightly even though there was nothing physically wrong with me. My insides were quaking with nervousness as to what I was about to do. I could barely comprehend it. Absentmindedly I clutched on to the stranger's jacket that still enveloped me. It would serve as a reminder that I was worth saving. My mother led me inside to the couch before getting water for the pills I'd been asked to take.

"Darling do you want a throw or something," she asked as she came back to the living room to place the water on the table. I shook my head and she settled herself on the armchair, a mug of hot water in her own hand.

Maybe I should put off talking until she put down the scalding hot water.

No, stop it. You have to do this now before it's too late.

"Mom," I said quietly, grasping her attention. She put down the mug and took my hands in hers, a small smile lighting up her face.

"What's wrong sweetie," she asked, her fingers creating gentle circles on the back of my palm. It was an unleashing of sorts. This was my mother and a small part of me still firmly believed that she wouldn't leave me for anything. And so I unlocked the walls around my heart and unleashed the deepest part of my being, the one I'd hidden from the world for the past five years.

"Mom, I, I'm so sorry but I can't do this anymore. My head, my ribs, my back, my heart, everything is just aching, an ache so deep that I can't get rid of it. I'm falling apart and I can't put myself back together. Please, I'm begging you; please don't make me starve myself. If I keep doing this, I'll die and, and I don't want to die mom. I'm scared. I'm so scared that if I keep doing this then I'll die and leave you all alone. Please don't make me leave you. I'm begging you; please let me live my life. Please," I begged, my voice sharp and breathless and my words jumbled and hurried. I couldn't control the sobs that choked up my throat. I sunk of the couch to my knees, my entire body shaking as I bared my heart to my mother who hadn't so much as blinked.