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Things Unsaid

Be careful what you say to your friends, you have no idea what they are going through or how it could change their life.

By Misty KatePublished 6 years ago 10 min read
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When I look back through the many phases of my adolescence I am most reminded of one girl; Kat Robin. Every few days Kat would cycle to another friend and demand their attention and affection. Lord have mercy on the person who didn’t show reciprocity. Per usual, she got her way at the cost of those around her whether she chose to acknowledge that or not. I wonder if Kat even knows the emotional damage she caused me the day she told me, “He could never like someone like you”. Some words will stick with you for life, even when you’d do anything to forget them. Yet, for every shadow cast, there is a source of light that begs to destroy darkness; “If you never try, you’ll never know”.

On this specific day, I was her object of fascination. We had wandered the halls of a foreign school aimlessly for hours, squandering time before our next Show Choir performance. My ears bled to the sound of Kat’s complaints about God only knew what.

Still, her mannerisms could be captivating. Slick blonde hair flung around her with every step as porcelain hands dramatized her point. Her tall, lean figure tilted in to captivate the surrounding audience. How anyone could stand to hear her high-pitched voice, I’ll never understand. I imagine dogs winced in pain every time she opened her big mouth. Yet I found myself mesmerized by the cobalt sea she had for eyes. Until I saw her arms straighten at her sides as she tensed with laughter when she got excited. She was such a happy fool. It couldn’t possibly be real, yet how could it be an act? After only seconds I tuned her out and offered a head nod or murmur if she’d pause for a response.

We wove through the corridors and they stretched on as if they were the pathways of a winding labyrinth that snaked in all directions. I was always the first to get lost and the last to be found. At every turn I hoped I’d run into him although I had no idea what I’d say to him if I did, especially with Kat tight on my heels blabbing continuously. I wished I had the heart to tell her I just didn’t give a-

“- might be getting back together.”

Shaken from my thoughts, I stopped in my tracks, “wait, what?”

Stumbling into me she repeated, “Eathen and Irene? Didn’t you see them together?” Whimpering she continued, “Were you even listening to me?”

Turning back through the corridors, I felt frantic as questions began to whirl in my mind. In the shadowed doorway of a closed classroom they huddled bickering. I’d never seen him so distraught. Irene wasn’t smiling either, not that she mattered to me.

Irene Cox and Eathen Price were both six-feet-tall, but their similarities ended there. Irene’s smile was as fake as a Barbie’s painted lips. Sugar cookie hair was at odds with her arctic eyes that swirled with lies and deceit. One gaze into them would send chills to your core. It sickened me to look at her. Unlike Eathen, her kindness was only an act. She clutched her wrist as Eathen’s hands flew through the air dramatically. It was quite a scene and it concerned me that I was oblivious to it the first time.

“It was your choice!” He spat as she cringed at his harsh tone.

As we approached, both of them clamed up; apparently they had thought their conversation was private. His eyes burned a hole into her skull, I almost thought I saw smoke. What I hadn’t seen was Irene’s minion on the other side of her.

Amy Williams stood in her shadow just as she did every day of her life, begging for someone to notice how desperate she was for attention. She mirrored the same skinny build as Irene, yet muscular with the years of farm living. Curly cinnamon locks were knotted atop her head to amplify her angry appearance. Her mocha eyes were coated by the chocolate eye shadow that her style couldn’t be complete without. Amy stood by Irene’s side, arms tightly folded, and anyone could tell Irene was in some sort of trouble. Almost like a child who disobeyed their parents. Amy muttered something to Kat as she linked arms with Irene.

“Watch him,” Kat called trailing behind them and disappearing at the end of the hall.

My eyes were on the ground at his feet. I didn’t need to see his onyx, auburn hair to know it was spiked in the front like he always had it. Nor did I need to see his eyes to recall them. Pine rings at the center dispersing into deep golden brown that would seep into my heart making me feel as warm as they’d appear. No one knew that about him. No one, that is, except me.

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” My voice echoed in the empty hallway.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and scoffed, “I can’t talk to anyone.” Pivoting, he used the force to hurl his foot into the wall.

I peeked up at him through the emotionless mask I was forced to wear. Did he not think he could trust me? Or was it not meant to be personal, yet directed at anyone in general? “Why are you upset? What did she do?”

I remember how I loved his smile. The way it hiked a mile high on one side as the other struggled to tug it back down. Every chortle that bubbled up when he least expected it caused him to blush lightly and change the subject. Others barely noticed, yet I knew how much it embarrassed him. His laugh was usually warm, it enveloped you and made you realize what it meant to be happy. This reaction, however, was completely unlike him. This time, a disturbing shriek escaped his pursed smile, one that did not suit him.

“She is begging me to take her back. She cut herself, Livvy. Apparently, she is in ‘so much pain’ after our break up,” his arms pressed to his sides in an uncomfortable way that forced his hands farther into denim pockets. “It was her choice!”

“Do you want to take her back?”

Eathen stood quiet for a small eternity, “I don’t know anymore.”

Desire surged in me. Could there still be hope for ‘us’?

“If she promises not to do it again, then I’d give her another chance.”, he hesitated for a moment. “I can’t have her cutting herself, Livvy.”

His words sunk in as I wrestled the resentment that began to roar inside me. She cut herself? She believed that would change his mind? If I’d known it was that easy I’d have shown him the scars that painted my own body, and begged him to make the pain stop. As I thought of it I clutched my stomach. A pinch of pain followed. At that time the most recent cuts etched the brandings of profanities I don’t dare say aloud. Despite my head spinning, I found myself giving him advice on how to keep her happy. I heard my heart screaming, pleading with me to stop helping that witch. She would never deserve his love.

“If you want her to stop, you can’t yell at her. That will only make her feel worse, and it’s just a vicious circle,” tears threatened my eyes so I gazed at my shoes as if I could find the words I needed on them. “You need to be gentle with her and support her, but make it clear she doesn’t need to hurt herself.”

A snow storm of emotions threatened to blow through my ever-growing pie hole. I felt it swirling inside my chest and I thought, for a snowstorm my heart sure burned. I reached into the vortex of whirling thoughts to scramble for words to express my emotions. I was a child in a tornado simulator trying to grab as much cash as I could before my timer ran out. Just as I might have had the courage to speak up, the girls returned. He stroked the nape of his neck consumed in thought, leaving me cold and detached at the end of our conversation.

“Eathen,” she stood behind him looking pitiful. Boiling with hate I had to turn away from them, what was to come was only meant for their ears; certainly not for an audience.

Kat and Amy were rounding the corner at the opposite end of the hall. Clearly, Kat’s obsession with me had subsided. Now it was directed at Amy. They gossiped about what had happened and no one was happy with Irene.

“Just forget it, Livvy. If they want to be miserable together then let them,” Kat threw her comments over her right shoulder, between she and Amy, and directed them at my very being. She knew what I was thinking, I didn’t have to say anything. “Stay away from Eathen, he could never like someone like you. He is happy with her.”

How dare she say that to me! Someone like me? What did she mean by that? I wondered if she was right. I knew they would get back together. He was too empathetic to send her away. I loved him for the reason he was breaking my heart, and I speculated that he would never know. It wasn’t his fault.

There is a photograph of my fiancé and I, soon to be three of us, that I keep on my iPhone. In that moment, I was a scared soon to be mother trying to catch a decent photo with my fiancé before we departed for work together. My belly no longer bearing scars of self-harm, and instead it gave way to the exploding “love marks” of pregnancy, as Eathen called them. I rather “tiger stripes” or “battle scars”. My short brunette hairs entangled with his beard as we struggled to get close, since our son’s foot jabbed out at us. I remember being enveloped in the scent of this man who loved me as I was, and who’s shirts and sweaters fit best on me then. The warm afternoon sun streaming through the blinds brought out the “Price eyes” I so envied in Eathen and prayed our son would have. In that photograph, I was radiating with the glow of pregnancy, and overjoyed to have the family I always dreamed of in the most unexpected ways.

I know now as I hold our sleeping son, that these scars that branded me don’t define me, and never will. Of all the times I walked away from Eathen or threatened my own life, I thank God that there was a day I decided enough was enough. That choice I made lead to the weight of our son asleep in my arms. As I look at him, I try to fathom that he is the most perfect imperfections of both Eathen and I in one tiny human. When I held him for the first time, I immediately noticed that he had my “elf” ears. I conceal laughter when he gives me his up-to-no-good smile that draws startling parallels to my own. I cannot help but fill with joy when he sneezes twice in a row like his father. It is moments like these that I will keep living for.

It was inconceivable to me that one day I’d breathe deeply and say, the best is yet to come. Lost in my emotions and perplexed by the hurtful words of my friends, I had no self-esteem to tell Eathen how I felt. When I finally realized that “If you never try, you’ll never know”, my life changed in the best way imaginable. If I’d continued to stay silent and let other entities define me, my family would still be the fleeting dream of a self-harming teenager. “He could never like someone like you.” It turns out, he could, he did, and he does.

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About the Creator

Misty Kate

Stories and poems of figuring out who I am, motherhood at 20, anxiety/depression, and family and friends. I have three fathers, I'm engaged to high school sweetheart, with a wonderful son! This is my actual life and struggles I have faced.

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