Nyctophilia
(n.) Love of darkness or night. Finding
relaxation or comfort in the darkness.


Then, it all went black.

… floating through darkness.

The pain slowly faded away as it got darker and darker. She felt peaceful. Her pain had disappeared. She didn't know where she was, but she felt better than she had in ages. The darkness caressed her and held her like a soft pillow. She never wanted to leave. She tried to remember how the blackness came to be. How did she get here?







24 hours ago (5pm)


“Suicidal b****,” someone said as Lacey walked by. She tries her hardest to stay invisible, but she stands out like a red wine stain on a white carpet. She looks different. And it's hard to be invisible when you don't look anything like the people you're surrounded by.

She dyes her hair black, and right now she has platinum blonde coon tails with red stripes in it. She wears black bands around her wrists to hide her scars and cuts. Her clothes consist of gray and black clothing. She wears her combat boots everyday. Sometimes she wears her black rosary beads, or her fox tail. And when she doesn't feel like wearing her black bands, she wears black bandanas tied around her wrists. She also has her ears gauged to the size of quarters. She also has shark bites. They're like snake bites, but on each side she has two piercings instead of one. Her fingernails are always black, sometimes with nail polish and sometimes with Sharpie.

Everyone else in this school is preppy or girly-girl. Or a jock. They wear khakis and jeans. They wear polo shirts and all those famous labels like Aero or Abercrombie. They always wear colors too. You rarely see someone wearing all black. Unlike Lacey. They golf, play tennis, football, basketball, and other stuff like that.

Her parents moved her here because of her “behavior.” Meaning they don't like the way she looks, dresses, or the music she listens to. They thought moving her here would make her better. They want her to become one of them. Like the other teenagers at this school. They don't understand that this is who she is; she will never change. Her parents are one of them. Her father was in some frat house at Yale and he played golf and football. He currently teaches literature at the school she attends. Thank god she isn't in his class. He teaches advanced and she doesn't get good enough grades to do that. Her mother was in a sorority at Yale (that's how her parents met) and she was a cheerleader for the football team (how her parents fell “in love,” or so they say). Her mother is now a stay at home mom who also does bake sales and runs a “woman's club” for all the wives of the faculty members at the school. Annoying and too girlish for Lacey.

Lacey's mom is always trying to get Lacey to make friends or join a club. Or volunteer to help with the bake sales. But Lacey always locks herself in her room so she can blare her music and write. Or use the computer to chat with others like herself. Lately, she's mostly been playing her From Death To Destiny album and chatting with this one particular boy on chat. His name was Vic. And he lived a half an hour away from her. He lived on the other side of town but he was home schooled. His parents were hippies and they were totally against the “corruption” of the school system. It was because of the government. His parents were totally laid back and they let him work at his own pace. He was already two grades ahead of what he would have been if he had attended her school. Inside of her heart she wished he had parents like hers, and they made him attend school. She hated being so alone and bullied at school. But everything is the way it is for a reason. And whatever happens is meant to happen.

Anyway, this boy made her feel special. Made her feel she wasn't alone. Made her feel loved. And he was always sweet. He always asked her about her day and helped her with her homework. But this afternoon he wasn't on when she got home from school. So she laid down in bed and tried to go to sleep.







Present


She couldn't hear anything floating around in the darkness. It was kind of peaceful not hearing anything. It was as if she was deaf. She always wondered what it would be like to be deaf. It was nice. Then she started to hear something. It sounded like screaming, but it was really far away and she had to strain herself to even hear the faint screaming. She tried to ignore it, but it was there.







20 hours ago (9pm)


She awoke to a small bleeping noise coming from her computer. She rushed over hoping it was Vic. But it was her mother messaging her, saying it was time for dinner. She sighed as she pulled on her pajama pants. She normally slept in only a long t-shirt. When she reached the dining room she saw that they had company. Her mother growled at her and told her to change into something appropriate. She rushed back upstairs, slightly embarrassed, and put on her skinnies and a plain black t-shirt.

Arriving back downstairs someone else had joined the dinner table. It was Vic. She was very confused. But as her cheeks flushed red, she quietly took her seat across from him.

“Honey. Please say hello to Mister and Misses Attila. And their son Vic. They moved here a few weeks ago from Britain.”

“Hello,” she said shyly while trying not to look at Vic.

“Ello lovely,” Vic said in his mellow British accent. She almost melted in her seat.

“Now that everyone has met everyone, lets welcome you to the neighborhood with a lovely home cooked meal,” Lacey's father announced.

“Yes, lets,” said Vic's father.

Lacey pushed the food around on her plate while stealing glances at Vic. Every time she looked away would be the exact moment he would lift his head to look at her. Then she felt a soft tap on her foot. Her head jerked up to see Vic smiling at her as he plopped a piece of ham covered in mashed potatoes into his mouth. She giggled and tapped his foot back. By the time they finished their main course, Lacey and Vic were playing footsies with each other. Then dessert arrived. It was apple pie with a side of cheesecake minis. Her mother always outdid herself whenever they had guests. At least her mother had the decency to make Lacey's favorite desserts. When she finished, she asked to excuse herself to finish her homework. Vic asked if Lacey could show her to the restroom. And their parents happily obliged while they engaged in conversation about how lovely the food was, even though Vic's father was a vegetarian. And his mother hated mashed potatoes.

“I have to say, I thought you were exaggerating when you explained the way you lived and how your parents were,” said Vic as soon as they were alone in her room. He planted himself on her bed and laid down. She sat beside his feet.

“Yeah. I'm surprised she even invited your parents to dinner. She thinks hippies are dirty.”

“Well, my father can be a mess,” Vic said laughing. Oh, how she adored his laugh. It made her ears feel all tingly. She was already in love with this guy, just from talking to him over chat for the past few weeks. Now that he was here in front of her, she was falling ever more deeply for him. His laugh was so light, yet it could fill the room and make you feel warm and cozy no matter the situation or weather.

“Haha. Yeah? Well, my mother can be such a hard-ass.”

“Oh I know lovely. You tell me all the time.”

“Oh, that's right. Sorry.”

“You don't have to be,” he said as he pulled her in for a hug. His skin was so shockingly warm to the touch. She never wanted to let go. But a few seconds later she was freezing for he had let go.

“I know. I just. I can't wait to be eighteen and get my own place, ya know? Without the pressure of this school, the people in it, the pressure from my parents to be the perfect child, to be one of them, to follow in their footsteps. That's not what I want. I want to be me, but to them, the real me isn't good enough.”

“I wish I could say I know how you feel, but I can't. But I can imagine. And by the looks of it, it's hell.”

“Yeah,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes. “I just wish they could accept me. I mean, I have these scars. Each one from whenever the pressure of it all just got too much for me to handle.”
Then she lost it. She started to sob and he pulled her into his shoulder. He held her and petted her head as she cried. All the while, he whispered to her saying everything would be okay. She wiped her eyes on her t-shirt and slowly looked up at him. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. Then he kissed her scars. Then he grabbed her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. Next thing she knew, she was sitting on his lap, and they were kissing. He was holding her hips as she gripped his neck and shoulders. He laughed and rolled her over. Now he was sitting on her, and she was scratching his back, pulling him closer to her. She wanted to feel his warmth. She never wanted this to end. Laughing he took off his shirt. Giggling she took off hers. Then his skin was against hers. She flinched from the warmth of his body. Not long after that the only clothes they had on was their underwear. That's when he pulled away.

“Lacey. I'm so sorry if I'm moving too fast.”

“No, it's okay. I want you. I...I love you.”

“I...think I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I feel like I already know you completely. After all this time of talking nonstop. Sharing our lives with each other.”

She pulled him in and started to kiss him again. Then they took off their underwear and he undid her bra. In her head, she was hoping her parents and his parents were in a deep conversation so they wouldn't come looking for him. Or seeing if she was okay with her homework.

It hurt at first. She wasn't expecting that. But then again, she was never informed about sex and she didn't dare ask her mother, for fear of what her mother would say or how she'd react. She'd probably think she was whoring around or something. And the movies made it look romantic and good, not painful or sweaty. But with Vic, it only hurt for the first few minutes. Then it was fun. Not romantic--well, not as much as the movies. He looked at her like she was beautiful. Like he loved her. They both were quiet. But their breathing was heavy. He gripped the pillow under her head as she gripped and scratched his back. At one point he was blowing in her ear and playing with it. It made her feel tingly inside. Then it was over. He rolled over onto his back and sighed. Then he started laughing. She giggled as she asked what's so funny.

“Oh nothing,” he said as he kissed her.

“Oh really?”

“It's just you remind me of someone I used to know. Your laugh, your personality, your everything.”

“Of who?”

“My first love. The first girl I ever slept with.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“Uh, yeah. Well, it was before my parents took me out of school. I was in eighth grade. She was new and she was French. Just came in from Paris. And she was gorgeous. One of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. She had her nose pierced and spikes in her ears. She also had dimple piercings but they were mini cupcakes. It was always some sort of food. It was adorable. Anyways, her hair was purple and no one was that punk before in our school. She was the one who got me into who I was on the inside. She brought my inside out so my outside could match my inside--if that makes any sense.”

“It does.”

“Well, we became friends instantly. Halfway through the year I kissed her. And she laughed at me saying she's been waiting for that since the first time we talked. And then we had sex. It was weird because it was my first time. She taught me a lot, and not just about sex. She taught me that I never needed to feel alone. She brought me out of the darkness. I was a dark kid, very depressed. People hated me. But she made things better. She brightened my world.”

“So what happened?”

“One day she had a doctor's appointment. And I got this text message to call her immediately. I called her and she was crying. I asked her what was wrong and all she could manage to say was that the cancer was back and she hung up on me. I just collapsed on the bench outside of school. I had a really hard time believing what I'd just heard. I rushed over to her house and I found her in her room, crying. I just held her for hours while she cried. When she was finished, she explained how she's had cancer since she was 5. It was leukemia something--I don't remember how to pronounce the actual name. She said she hadn't had it in three years and that the doctor's were optimistic that they could keep the cancer away. That she had a small chance of relapsing. But it happened anyways. She told me it was bad this time. And that they were going to start her on chemo as soon as possible.”

“Oh my god.”

“It was a grueling six months. I watched and stayed at her bedside as she lost all her hair. She started to lose a lot of weight. It was really hard to see her so sick. Sometimes I could barely look at her. But then I remembered how much I love her and that I need to be there for her. One morning I was asleep in the chairs next to her bed when I woke up to beeping. Some nurses ran into the room and asked me to leave. It was the day after school ended and I was freaking out. I wanted to know what was going on. Ten minutes later a nurse came out and told me she was sorry. I was confused and I was really dizzy. I walked into the room--everything was in slow motion--and they were covering her completely with a sheet and I didn't understand what was going on. I asked them what they were doing and then I heard the doctor tell her parents that they did everything that they could. Then it hit me: she was gone. My first love was dead. By cancer. I didn't know what to do. Her father came in, and handed me a letter saying that she wanted me to have this in case she didn't make it through. The letter told me that if she died, I needed to stay strong, to never give up. Never self-harm, and never commit suicide. No matter how heartbroken and alone I felt after she was gone. And to this day I still keep my promise to her.”

“Oh my god. I am so sorry.”

“It's okay. Everything happens for a reason.”

She pulled him closer and hugged him. As she softly kissed his warm lips, her mother walked into her bedroom. Vic flew up and grabbed his clothes and ran to the bathroom. I laid there and covered myself tightly in the sheets.

“How dare you? And with a boy you just met.”

“I didn't just meet him mother. I have been talking to him since he first moved here.”

“I don't care. You slept with him? Under my roof?”

“Mother. Calm down. I'm 17. Just get out of my room.”

“You are so grounded. You still live under my roof. You still need to obey to my rules.”

“How old were you when you lost your virginity? How many of the football players did you sleep with?”

“Excuse me? You have no right to bring my past into this?”

“You're creating a double standard. I go to school. I do my work. I stay out of your way.”

“I'm picking you up and dropping you off at school. You are not to leave this house. And I'm taking away your radio, your iPod, your computer, and your phone.”

“That's not fair! You can't do that. I need my computer for my school work.”

“You can go to the library. I will take you everyday. You have a two hour limit on the public computers there.”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too. Look at you. I don't even know how you're my daughter. You are nothing like me and your father. You're a disgrace.”

Lacey sat there stunned at what her mother had just said to her. Shouldn't parents help you with your self-esteem and not bring it down? She put on a long t-shirt and started to dig through her drawers looking for her razor. Vic came out slowly, looking for her mother .When he realized she was gone, he walked over to Lacey. She had found her razor and had sliced three cuts into her left wrist. He quickly grabbed the razor and threw it across the room. He picked up Lacey and sat on the bed. He wiped away her tears and held her close.

“Promise me you will never do that again. Every time you have an urge to cut yourself, get a hold of me. Sneak out. Do something. Come and find me. Because I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

“I can't promise anything.”

“No, you have to promise.”

“Okay. I...I promise.”







Present


The screams disappeared, but Lacey swore she could hear sirens off in the distance. She thought she was going crazy. Her peaceful place was being disrupted by sounds of the real world. She wanted to remain as if she were deaf. She didn't want to be able to hear. She wanted to keep this feeling of peace forever. Sometimes she thought she could hear her mother's voice sobbing. But she tried to ignore it. The sounds were breaking the peace and bringing bad feelings. She started to feel pain in her wrists.






12 hours ago (5am)


“Lacey, get up. You have to get ready for school.”

“Huh?”

“Get up and get ready for school. I have to drop you off by seven.”

“It's too early.”

“You need to take a shower. And you have cuts on your wrists. I need to cover them up.”

“I took a shower last night. And I wear bracelets.”

“I took away your jewelry as part of your punishment.”

“You what? That's so unfair.”

“Life is unfair Lacey. But I will let you sleep another 45 minutes while your father makes breakfast. After that, you need to get up and be ready downstairs by 6.”

“Ugh,” Lacey sighed as she rolled over and fell back asleep.






11 hours ago (6am)


“Morning Mother. Morning Daddy.”

“Morning sweetheart,” her dad said.

“Don't treat her all nice. You know what she did.”

“Yes I do. And she's a teenager. I don't agree with her life choices, but I'm her father and I'm trying a new way of parenting.”

“Thanks Daddy.”

“You're welcome. Now eat your breakfast so your mother can do her run and take you to school.”

“Yes sir.”

Lacey sat down across from her mother and ate her breakfast in silence. All the while, her mother was looking at her like she was an abomination. Plus she was pissed off that her husband had decided to try a new way of parenting without consulting her.

When breakfast was done, Lacey went upstairs to gather her stuff for school. On the way to her room, she sneaked inside her mother's study and tried to find her phone. The only place she'd think it could be was in the drawer that her mother always kept locked. But luckily, her mother was stupid enough to leave the key in the liquor cabinet underneath the desk.

Opening the drawer, Lacey found all of her things: her phone, her iPod, her laptop--everything. Lacey quickly snatched up her phone, locked the drawer, and ran to her room. She shut her door and locked it. Flipping open her phone, she quickly sent a message to Vic saying it was really hard not to self-harm herself. She waited until 6:40 before sending another message. She was pleading with him to answer back because she could feel herself slipping. Her mother was so overbearing that it was becoming too much. She knew she could never live up to her mother's standards. She could never be the person her mother wanted her to be and that made her feel so much worse. And made her want to try and be someone else. But that would be lying to herself--hiding who she truly was on the inside. And she could never do that either. So she was stuck. When she heard her mother yell up the stairs saying it was time to go to school, Lacey was almost broken. She rushed into the bathroom, broke one of her shavers, and stashed the razors over the battery in her phone. She looked in the mirror and saw that she looked like a wreck. Her wrists were bruised and the cuts were still tender to the touch. She had bags under her eyes that were a darkish purple and her eyes were red around the edges. She rushed to put some heavy eyeliner on and ran downstairs.

“What's with the makeup,” her mother snapped.

“I looked like s***. I wanted to cover it up.”

“Watch your language.”

“Hey, you asked. I'm only being truthful.”

“You can be truthful without swearing.”

“Whatever--just take me to school.”

“Watch your attitude.”

“I'm not going to watch anything if you continue being a nazi and nagging on me.”

“Excuse me young lady?! The last time I checked, you lived under my roof.”

“Not for long.”

“That's it. Get in the car. I'm done arguing with you.”

“Yeah, now that you can't think of any more insults.”

“Shut up and get in the car.”

Lacey stormed out of the house and slammed herself into the car. She slammed her door shut, turned on the car, and started cranking the music. Of course, her Perfect Weapon CD was in the CD player, so as soon as the first song started, she leaned back, relaxed, and sang along. When her mother entered the driver's seat, she looked pissed at the music, but only turned it down so it wasn't so loud.

When Lacey reached her first period class, everyone was staring at her. Some people were whispering as she walked by to get to her seat. When she reached her seat, she took out her pocket mirror and tried to find what everyone was staring at. She realized she had a hickey on her left collarbone and it was pretty noticeable. She slowly sunk into her seat and tried to cover it up. But everyone had already noticed and had already begun gossiping about it.

All throughout her morning, Lacey was faced with people whispering behind her back. Talking about her hickey. Some of them were even motioning to her wrists. Lacey looked at her wrists to see that they were still badly bruised from her cutting herself. With both these things being so noticeable, Lacey could see why everyone was staring at her. But knowing why they were doing this didn't make it any more okay in her mind.

“So Lacey, who's the lucky guy?” the quarterback asked as her cornered Lacey during lunch.

“No one,” she whispered as she tried to get past him. She really needed to use the bathroom.

“Must be someone. He left quite the hickey on your collarbone,” he sneered as he poked the hickey.

“Leave me alone.”

“Aw, but I just wanna know who is messing with my girl,” he said laughing, looking at his “boys” for a reaction.

“I'm not your girl.”

“Of course you are. I torment you every day. You're mine. I make you squirm,” he said as he leaned in close and tried to kiss her forehead.

She squirmed as she felt him kiss her head.

“See, that's exactly what I mean. I know you like me Lacey. I can tell by the way your body reacts to mine.”

“Just--please leave me alone. I don't need this. I'm in love with this boy.”

“Just give me a name Lacey.”

“No,” she said as she slid to the ground and ran under his legs. She quickly ran to the bathroom and locked herself in the big stall all the way at the end. She sat on the toilet and lifted her legs onto the seat so that if anyone looked underneath the stall, no one would see her feet dangling off the toilet.

As tears welled up in her eyes, she checked her phone to see if Vic had ever texted her back from that morning. Her faith in him started to fade when she saw that she didn't have any messages or missed calls. She chucked her phone into the toilet and started to cry. She had given up all hope on Vic. He promised that he would always be there for her. That he'd wait for her to call, text, message--anything. And that he'd be there for her for encouragement.

Lacey started tossing stuff out of her bag looking for her razors. Then she realized that they were stashed on top of the battery on her phone. She reached into the toilet and took out her phone. She took the battery cover off her phone and saw the razors. She started to smile and laugh as she took them and placed them against her inner thigh. She cut three cuts into each thigh. As the blood flowed, her tears faded away and she let the pain consume her. She knew what she was doing was wrong and could get her put away for a long time, but she didn't care. It's the only coping mechanism that she knew.







Present


The sounds were starting to get louder and more clear. She could hear her mother crying and her father trying to explain to someone that he didn't know her problems were this bad--bad enough to make her try to commit suicide. Her mother was sobbing, saying she knew that her daughter cut herself every now and then, but that she didn't think of it as anything serious. She heard Vic laugh derisively and tell her mother that even one single cut is serious because it means that something has made her feel so bad that pain could be her only release. Her mother started to sob harder. A man's voice--a voice she had never heard before--asked if there was a note somewhere explaining why she did this. Her father said there was a note and that he would go retrieve it from his study. The man said he would follow her father to the office--no need for him to bring it back to the scene. Another man said that he had stopped the bleeding, and her IV went in fine, and that he needs help bringing her down to the ambulance as soon as the man that went with her father came back.







1 hour ago (4pm)


“Did you do your homework already?” asked Lacey's mother.

“Yes.”

“Can I see it please?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to double check that it's done.”

“It's done, I told you.”

“I just want to check.”

“Whatever. This is bullshit. If I say it's done, then it's done.”

“Just give me your fucking homework.”

“Whatever. Here.”

Lacey sat down to eat her apple pie as her mother checked over her homework. Every few questions, her mother would make this face and erase her answer. Lacey would just roll her eyes and wish her mother would just disappear.

“Lacey, you bullshitted your way through this. Look at it, you got these three wrong on your math. These four on your science. These two on your English. And some of these answers aren't even in full sentences. What is wrong with you? Don't you want to graduate?”

“Of course I want to graduate. There is 8 months left of my senior year. And there is NOTHING wrong with me. And everyone makes mistakes on their homework. That's why they give you homework. Plus we go over our homework the day after so we can learn what we need to go over before the test.”

“No. This needs to be perfect.”

“Why? Why does it need to be so perfect? You always pressure me to be so perfect. But no one is perfect. We all have our flaws. I'm perfect in my imperfections.”

“Your father and I were perfect in school. And we expect you to be perfect so you can have a bright future.”

“I can be successful and get 65's in school. You don't even have to graduate to be successful.”

“Whatever. Go to your room and write me an essay on how you're going to improve your life.”

“What the hell? No.”

“Go.”

Lacey stormed up to her room and locked herself in her private bathroom. She took her last shaver and smashed it on the counter. She took out the cleanest razor and washed it. She looked in the mirror and smeared her eyeliner to make it look as if she was crying. She laughed. She walked into her bedroom and grabbed a piece of her Brony Fluttershy Pony stationary and her favorite rainbow ink pen. She walked back into the bathroom and started running the water to prepare herself for a bath. She poured a very small amount of bubbles into the water. While she was waiting for the bath to fill up, she started writing her note:



Dear Mother and Daddy,



I'm sorry. The pressure to be perfect was becoming too much. And



I know that I'm your only child, but I can't handle this. Mother, I'm



so sorry that I couldn't be the perfect child like you expected me to



be all these years. And Daddy, I love you, truly. And I'm glad that



you decided to try and do something different with your parenting.



It felt as if you were actually starting to accept me as I am, not as



you wanted me to be in the beginning. But Mother, I want you to



know this isn't your fault. This is no one's fault. I just can't deal



with my own s***. It's hard being the real me. To express myself.



Especially in school. The people there are ruthless. They treat me



like crap because I'm different. Because I don't look like them.



And tell Vic I love him. And it's not his fault either. I tried to call



him and text him but he never picked up. He must have been



busy. And I don't blame him if he was. I love you guys. All of you.









Love,









Lacey


As she signed her name at the bottom, she started to strip. She slid into the hot water and bubbles with the razor she had picked out. Crying, she cut long deep lines down both her wrists. She let herself sink into the tub and as she started to bleed out, everything started to go black. It was like she was falling into a deep dark sleep. It was calling her name, and it sounded so soft, so peaceful. She let it consume her.







Present


At long last, Lacey opened her eyes to see the chaos that was surrounding her. She saw the men in their uniforms wheel her towards the hallway to take her to the ambulance that was outside. She saw her mother on the ground, collapsed from her sobbing. She saw her Daddy trying to pick up her mother so they could walk outside to the car. They were going to follow the ambulance to the hospital. Then she saw Vic, his eyes were puffy and swollen like he had been crying. And he had a cut on his wrist, a fresh one. He broke the promise he made to his first love over her. Because of the mistake she made. Because she tried to commit suicide. Then she fell asleep. Or lost consciousness. She wasn't sure.







6 months later



“Lacey,” Vic said as he brushed some of her hair out of her face.

“Hmm,” she said softly.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

Lacey pushed open the doors of the psych ward and the sun caressed her skin, welcoming her back to the world. The wind was whistling softly and felt amazing. She laughed and jumped and ran down the stairs. She did a little twirl at the bottom and looked back up at Vic. He was smiling and a single tear ran down his face.

“What's wrong? Why are you crying,” Lacey said, concerned.

“Nothing. I'm happy. I have you back. And you're happy.”

“I am. I'm happy to be better. I'm not depressed anymore.”


“I know. And you have no idea how much joy that brings to my heart. I love you Lacey.”

“I love you too Vic,” she whispered as she pushed herself against him, and softly kissed his lips. She wasn't allowed to do that the entire time she was in that place. It was against the rules. But at least he got to visit her every day for the past 6 months.

She had lost a lot of blood that night. And the hospital did their best to fix her. She still has these scars on her wrists as a reminder of what her life used to be like. They asked her if she wanted them to cover them up, make them go away, but she wanted them. Like Asking Alexandria said, “How stubborn are the scars when they won't fade away? Or just a gentle reminder that now are better days?” She decided to go with the reminder that now are better days part. It made her smile. Made her feel strong.

She worked on how to cope when things got too stressful. A few times, she'd get frustrated and felt like she was slipping. That's when they started her on medication. She refused it at first, but she noticed a difference. She started feeling better. And she hasn't felt like slipping up for four months. She started enjoying things again. Her parents visited once a week. At first, her mother was stubborn, but she eventually came around. She had family therapy where she could tell her mother and daddy what she felt. And how they can't expect her to be anything less than who she is. That they need to accept that.

“Vic?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we going?”

“To our place. I got an apartment while you were in there. Your parents moved all your stuff in. I hope that's okay.”

“Of course,” Lacey said as they pulled up in front of this beautiful apartment. Lacey was overjoyed. She had her own place with a boy that she loved, her first love. She didn't have to deal with the pressure of her parents always on her back. She could relax. Be herself. Be with Vic.

“I love you Lacey.”

“I love you too Vic.”

“Promise that you will never do anything like that again. I can't lose you, not again.”

“I promise. But you have to promise me the same thing.”

“I promise.”