Breaking Point

6

Rosie

A week after the expulsion. For a whole week, I’ve been trying to reverse the expulsion, searching online for anything that could make the school call off the expulsion.

Does that mean all my years of hard work had gone down the drain? But all the lawyers I’ve been seeing couldn’t help me and I could feel helplessness and hopelessness creeping into my bones.

I even tried to call my father—maybe some of his connections could help—but I’ve been blocked off. I sat on the couch, scrolling through some feeds if I could find something, anything, as I cracked my neck, rubbing my eyes from straining and staring at the screen too much.

I’ve been home all day without anything to do and I’ve been feeling guilt for staying at Kira’s apartment, sleeping on her couch and mooching off her food. That was why I tried to do the house chores even though Kira told me not to. But doing that would make my guilt lessen a little.

I stood up and went to the counter to pour myself a glass of water when a distressed voice from the ajar door stopped me on my way.

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I couldn’t stop listening because I heard my name.

“I know, I know…” she trailed off, running her hands through her hair. “Rosie just needs time.” And I gulped. The water is long forgotten. “She’s been through hell, okay?”

And my heart stuttered. Who was she talking to about me?

“I don’t know how long, maybe a few more weeks?” A long pause, as worry etched her face and I bit my lower lip, “I can’t just kick her out. Where would she go?” she said.

I could feel the guilt creeping in. I’d overstayed my welcome. I was uncomfortable in her own apartment but Kira was too nice to send me away.

“Her parents disowned her. She’s got nothing.” Another long pause and exasperated sigh, her voice sounding defensive. “It’s not like that... She’s my friend.” Kira pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. Yes. I’ll talk to her. Soon.”

My stomach sank. Kira was defending me, and was having disagreements with someone because of me. Was it her boyfriend or parent? Maybe roommate, but the last time I asked, Kira responded she lived alone. Either way, I was causing problems as usual, ruining Kira’s life too.

Everyone I touched got destroyed. I was a walking harbinger of ruin. When won’t Kira be tired of me also? It was just a matter of time before Kira saw that I was dragging her into the rabbit hole.

When I noticed the call conversation had diverted to another thing, I walked back to the couch. I couldn’t even drink water again because if I did, I was very sure I would puke it out. After some minutes, Kira came out of the room acting normal, with that warm smile on her face as if someone didn’t just talk about me inconveniencing her on the phone.

“Rosie,” she called and slumped beside me. “Whatcha doing?” she said, picking up the TV remote.

I swallowed, willing my voice not to give out that I’d eavesdropped on her call. “Just surfing the internet,” I responded, not looking at her.

“Okay, what movie should we watch?” she asked and I looked at Kira. I could see the strain in her body language and exhaustion under her eyes. Since I had been staying at Kira’s place, she had picked up another part-time job because of me.

I had to leave. I couldn’t burden Kira with my issues anymore.

But where could I go?

After finishing the movie, that happened in absolute silence except the noises from the TV, both of us lost in thought.

Kira stood up and checked the wall clock. “Shit! I’m late for my work,” she cursed, running to her room to pick up her slung bag.

“Bye. Later. Don’t cook, I’ll bring dinner,” she said and ran out of the front door.

“Okay,” I smiled sadly. Kira was a good friend, a friend anyone could pray for. If Kira hadn’t come along when the incident happened, I was very sure I’d have killed myself.

I didn’t have much… I never had much except excess body fat and baggage of problems. When I was done packing inside the duffel bag, I tore a sticky note as tears welled in my eyes.

“Thank you for everything. I’m sorry. Don’t worry about me. - Rosie”

I rubbed my nose to stop the watering mucus from coming out as I left the note on the coffee table. I took one last look at the apartment. And a sad smile found its way to my lips.

I walked around aimlessly, looking for a sign for a cheap motel to stay the night. My account had been confiscated, thanks to my savings, saving my life now. I paid for the night and entered the room. I nearly recoiled from disgust—dingy room, stained carpet, even cobwebs—but it was mine for the night and wasn’t a burden. I dusted the bed, changed the blanket and flopped on it. I stared at the cracked ceiling thinking on what to do next before my phone buzzed.

I glanced and saw a call from Kira but didn’t answer. What would I tell her? Nothing.

Then a text came in. “Where are you?? Your note scared me. Please call.”

Another followed after some minutes.

“Rosie, please. Just let me know you’re okay.”

I could feel my eyes sting and I turned my phone off before curling into a ball on the bed to keep myself safe.

I was spiraling. I knew it, I could feel it. I’ve used three days in this motel and I barely ate, just surviving on crackers and vending machine food. Noises from other rooms didn’t let me sleep—moans, grunts, arguments, things breaking. The walls were so thin that I had to stay up at night sometimes, listening to other people’s lives playing out around me. And whenever I tried to sleep in the afternoon, the music played at the bar below kept me awake.

Headache, sleep deprivation and hunger were eating me alive. My mental health waning away.

And sometimes, I scrolled through job positions yet every application asked for education and references which I didn’t have. And the coffee cafe that would take me in was around the campus area and I couldn’t go there to give them more to antagonize me further.

I watched the video every day, read the comments. You can call me a masochist.

But what was the point again?

What was the point of me struggling for the inevitable? What was the point of me being here? No one wants me. I don’t even want myself. No one wants to listen. No one wants justice for me. No one… no one.

Maybe I should just end it?

Maybe it would stop the pain deep in my heart, my head and everywhere.

Maybe if I end it, people would feel remorseful. My parents would want my dead body. Sophia would finally feel guilty for what she’d done to her twin sister.

Maybe then I’d find peace.

I didn’t know when I walked out of the motel, stopping a cab. I told the driver to stop at the bridge and the driver looked at me like I was high but I didn’t wait for him before getting down and passed him the bill. I trailed to the bridge rim, looking at the sea. The night was cold as the wind cut through my thin jacket, yet I didn’t feel it.

I stared down at the blue sea. Below was nothing. It would be quick. It would be over before I knew it. I gripped the edge tighter. There won’t be shame, pain and being a burden anymore.

It’ll be over soon.

I closed my eyes, took a step further. My life flashed behind my eyelids—the smell of my house, my parents’ proud look, Sophia’s cruel laughter, the students’ crude comments, Josh’s betrayal, my mother’s words. Everything was ringing in my head. As I took another step, warm amber eyes flashed and my eyes flew open.

And I was grabbed from behind, away from the railing. That’s when I noticed the cab driver was the one who pulled me away. If he was a minute late, I would have died. The realization made my chest rise heavily, inhaling air hungrily. My body trembled tremendously as a broken sob tore through me.

What was I thinking?!

“Fuck! I knew it!” the driver said, voice shaking. “My gut feeling never proves me wrong.” The driver shook me and pulled me from the ground toward the car.

He opened the back door, pushed me inside, then got in the driver’s seat. He turned up the heat and handed me a warm flask from his cup holder.

“I don’t know what you are going through, but suicide is not the answer.” His voice was warm and kind. “It might be hard to live through it now but I know it will be better, just persevere. There is always light after the darkness, the longest tunnel.”

I clutched the flask, letting the warmth seep into my frozen fingers.

“And if it’s too much sometimes, you can move away, get fresh air and start again. Don’t give your demons the laughter that they achieved what they want.” He turned to look at me. “Prove them wrong even if it means moving away for some time to r ecuperate yourself.” he smiled warmly, “But never forget to make them pay for every tear they exert from you.”