Page 51 of Life Lessons

My father stayed with me for the whole of my hospital stay, only going home for short periods while I was in therapy or with Trixie. It took me a few days before I was able to sit in the same room with her and face my actions. Although I now know this is exactly the outcome I would have wanted, surviving is hard. Having to face all the questions, the suspicious stares, the worried glances, and the tears are heartbreaking.

Of course, just because I woke up and I was pleased to have woken up, that still doesn’t change the fact I was depressed enough to get to that stage in the first place. When I first woke up, the doctor talked to me about moving me to a mental health ward and asked how I felt about that. My mother was quick to forbid it, and the doctor basically reminded her that since I am over the age of eighteen, it is my decision. I agreed because I do need the help. Plus, I think they would have kept me on an involuntary hold if I hadn’t consented. At least this way it feels like it’s my choice and I can leave when I’m ready.

I was assigned an amazing mental health support worker, Hayleigh, and she will be my caseworker now, even whilst I am at home. Her role seems like such a simple one, but at the same time she has been the one person who has helped me make the most progress. All she does is talk to me, and when I offer up suggestions, she counters to help me see alternate sides to arguments. Basically, she helps me to embrace that the darkness will always be there, I just need to know when it is getting too much. To observe for warning signs and to tell the people I love what my warning signs are so that they can support me fully.

She was there the first time I spoke to Trix after what happened. We talked about how shit I felt about how I treated her the last couple of weeks and Trixie said she had already forgotten all about that. But she was honest enough to admit that she was angry at me for putting her in a position where I could have made her watch me die.

It never even occurred to me that is what I had done, but looking back I didn’t think about anyone at all that day. I was so self involved that I didn’t think about how my actions affected anyone. For a long time this knowledge made me feel even worse, until Hayleigh made me confront it. After that the talks with Trixie became a lot easier and a lot more natural. We started being able to meet without Hayleigh being present and although it was awkward at first, it wasn’t long until we were laughing and joking together like we used to.

Don’t get me wrong, we had quite a few sessions where we cried our eyes out, and we just held each other, but we needed that time just as much as we needed the happy ones.

Trixie also kept me updated on school, telling me all the gossip she possibly could. Apparently, Jackson and Harley sent their love and they wanted to visit but she put them off, saying they can see me when I come back soon. She also told me she suspects them of both seeing the same girl again, only this time they appear to be in agreement about it. I think she has been reading far too many of her sexy reverse harem novels and just wants that to be true. There’s no denying a Jackson and Harley sandwich would be a beautiful thing, but man are those boys high maintenance.

I told her I was worried it was Harriett as they are better than her. But she informed me that Harriett had left the school, after everyone turned on her. They said she was the reason I ended up here, and her father pulled her from the school to avoid more scandal. I had never been more happy than hearing this. It’s not quite the justice she deserved, but the punishment was there in the end.

I made sure that Trixie brought all my homework that I asked for because I didn’t want to fall behind. Trixie looked like I had grown an alien head when I first asked her. Apparently, I had a very good excuse to get away without doing the homework, but I didn’t want that. I made my dad a promise and I intend to keep it.

So, three weeks later, after a motivational phone call from both my dad and Hayleigh, with Trixie holding my hand I walked back to my first class. I have to admit I wasn’t just apprehensive, I was fucking terrified. With each step I take, and every person I pass, I worry what insult they will throw my way. Or even worse, will they throw something physical. In my eyes, the last time I walked these halls I was bullied as a murderer. The only thing that has changed is time.

I make no announcement about what happened to me the night Tillie died, or what happened to me three weeks ago. People don’t need to know my business. They will talk and think whatever they want to think, irrespective of what I say, or at least that’s what Hayleigh taught me, and I have to say it really did help. Knowing that I can’t control what people say, only how I respond to it is very important in my healing. I guess you could say I need to develop a thicker skin.

So, as I walk down the corridor, I’m faced with an array of different responses. Some that were loyal to Harriett, or maybe they genuinely believed her, they still call me a murderer, which I now know I’m not. A few other girls who had previously been throwing things the month before were now saying hello to me in the corridor like we were old friends. Most people just walk on by like I am any other student. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there are mutterings, because this is high school and teenagers can’t help themselves, but they at least have the decency to do it behind my back.

Walking into Lower Maths with Trix, my heart does a double take as I remember that this should have been the lesson I had with Jett. It was at this time on a Monday morning, all those months ago that we met and our lives changed forever. I don’t know how many counselling sessions I will need to even start getting over him. Personally, I don’t think I ever will, I don’t think I can. He is an integral part of me, he helped me learn to live again, and I need to use what he taught me and do it myself.

When we were together I was so dependent on him to be happy. I know that sounds weird, that I didn’t know how to be happy without him, but it’s true. I now realise, just like the good teacher he is, he gave me all the tools I needed to do it alone, he was just my crutch. A beautiful, strong, sexy crutch that happily let me lean on him for support, but I think he always knew I didn’t need him. Doesn’t mean I don’t still want him. Fuck do I still crave every part of him. He is in my thoughts almost constantly, and where before the night scared me, now I look forward to it. My dreams are the time where we get to be together, and I get to keep him in my life, even if he isn’t real.

Math class passes by without incident until the very end when Mr Wormald dismisses the class. “That will be all for today’s class. See you tomorrow. Miss Night, if you could stay behind for a moment please,” he calls and Trix looks over at me, concern etched on her face.

I know that only time will truly stop her from worrying about me. At the moment, every little stressor has her looking at me like I may not know how to deal with it. But, I’m stronger than she thinks. I give her a small smile and tell her to go on ahead, that I will meet her in our next lesson. I wait around for everyone to leave before approaching Mr Wormald’s desk.

“Abbie, lovely to see you back up on your feet. How are you doing?” he asks with a kind smile. I don’t know what it is about this sweet, older man with receding grey hair and a soft face, but he looks like a lovable grandad. I don’t think I have ever heard him raise his voice at a student, and I genuinely think he may be asking because he actually gives a shit about the answer.

“I’m doing much better thank you. It’s hard but I’m getting there.” I give him a soft smile, letting him see how much I appreciate his kindness.

“Miss Musgrove has been submitting the work you have been doing during your recovery time, and I must say not only am I impressed you managed to submit all the extra credit work, too, but your work is of the highest level. You are far too clever to be in this set Miss Night,” he says encouragingly and I smile.

“Thank you for saying that. But as I’m sure you know, I was kicked out of the advanced set. I’m not allowed to go back. Mr Thornton made it very clear that I couldn’t take the Advanced Maths exams without being in Advanced Maths,” I groan, remembering the argument well. Mr Wormald just gives a little chuckle and I notice a slight glint in his eye.

“You let me take care of Mr Thornton. I would be prepared to offer you one-on-one classes to teach you the stuff you need for the Advanced Maths exams, and in return, if you agree and attend every single meeting without fail then I will get you entered into the exam. If I am to go out of my way for you, Abbie, I need to know that you will do the same.”

His words slowly start to sink in, and it occurs to me that he is saying everything I need to make my dreams come true. So of course the answer if a big fucking yes!

When I was in the hospital, I had a lot of time to think about what I wanted to do with my life. Once I had decided that it was selfish to waste the life I was given when Tillie’s was torn away, I knew I had to make the best of it. I may never have my twin by my side, and I may never get over the love of my life, but I can damn sure live the best life I can anyway.

I don’t know when I realised what I wanted to do with my life, but I remember telling Hayleigh about it. I told her I wanted to go to university to train to be a mental health nurse, specialising in young adult grief counselling. She just smiled and told me that the pay was rubbish, the job was hard, but I would get a hell of a lot of job satisfaction. So that became my aim ever since that day, and I found out just a couple of days ago that Liverpool University had made me a conditional offer. It was conditional on me getting the right grades, and one of those includes an A* in Maths, something that would only be achievable if I did the Higher Maths exam.

I had gone straight to Mr Thornton and begged him to let me sit the exam. I would teach myself what I needed to know if I had to, but his no was resounding. He said that I would need to be accepted back into Advanced Maths and that bitch straight up refused. Not that I would want to be taught by her anyway. There is always the option to defer for a year and sit Advanced Maths in a community college, or even online, and then once that is passed I will be able to attend next year.

As I was thinking up these options, I would often daydream and imagine me and Jett curled up in our own bed, in our own little house while he teaches me the Advanced Maths I need to pass. I can’t help that whenever I plan my future, it always includes him. I will adjust my way of thinking, or at least I will try. It’s just hard. The only future I ever saw myself having for a long time involved him, but now I just need to make sure I have a future.

The last remainingcouple of months pass by in a blur, but this time it’s the good time. I spent most of my time with Trixie, Harley, and Jackson. I actually started to let them in more, let them all see parts of the girl I was before Tillie died. I even took them to the trampolining club Jett took me to and it was amazing. They had never heard of it, or even knew I was that great at gymnastics. Harley was pissed we didn’t get to compete in the trampolining event at sports day after he saw how good I was during a dance off.

What I liked most of all was how easy it became to simply laugh with them. Don’t get me wrong, every day wasn’t like that. I still have a major depressive disorder with suicidal tendencies, which I take medication for every day, and I probably will for the rest of my life. I still get days where my bed calls to me and that familiar darkness that I had come to fear would take over, but now I know coping strategies.

I remain in close contact with Hayleigh, who I call to talk about things when I feel as though I don’t want to burden my friends, but I do get better at talking to them. I also start running regularly, and enroll at the local gymnastics class. I find it strange that a school as prestigious as ours doesn’t have the resources for a gymnastics club, but we do have a horse polo team. The weekend before the last week of school is my very first gymnastics competition in well over a year and I am terrified. I don’t think I am ready to be competing at a regional level, but my coach does.

Sitting in the dressing room, after pulling on my sparkly black and purple leotard, I sheepishly take a step towards the full length mirror and open my eyes. Trixie is standing behind me and she squeals like a little girl, flapping her arms around with a hairbrush in one hand and a can of hairspray in the other. The leotard is a beautiful design that I fell in love with the minute I saw it. One side is a simple dark black colour, with no embellishments or sparkles. It’s just darkness spreading along my left side and down my arm on the sleeve. The other side is the brightest purple colour adorned with sparkles and diamontes that glisten and twinkle when they catch the light. But what draws my attention is how the colours meet in the centre. It’s almost like they swirl and twist around each other, like they aren’t competing for dominance, just learning to live together. It’s ironic how my life can be summed up so perfectly by an item of clothing. Not only can this symbolise the relationship I had with my sister; her good to my bad, it could also be life in general. After all there is darkness in everyone, it’s just about making sure it doesn’t gain more control than it needs.

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