I'm sure none of you are particularly overjoyed at my rants. So you don't have to read this, if you don't want to. I just find that writing it down is better than resorting to something worse.
And this post is somewhat different. It's not as much a rant as it is a distress call.
This past week has been...really bad. You know it's gotten bad when the only thing you look forward to is for your teacher to put into Powerschool the best grade you've gotten in math all year. But the worst of it began Friday night at a friends house, where I, like the idiot I am, dropped my iPhone into the toilet.
I'm surprised at how quickly I acted. Immediately the phone was back in my hand, and I was shaking the water out and drying it off as best I could. Minutes later the phone was in a bag of white rice.
It was in the water for no more than five seconds. So why does it still not work?
I was freaked about that. Instead of hiding it, like I told myself to do, I told my dad. The phone is still in the rice, and we haven't tried turning it on yet.
That's not all that happened, though.
Saturday, around 3 or 4 pm. I was at a birthday party (yes, I still go to those), atop a blow-up slide. There were, I don't know, maybe six girls up there. Maybe seven, I'm not exactly sure. From where I was, a little less than halfway down the slide, I couldn't see the ladder because of the separator between it and the slide.
I'm still not certain why it happened.
There were a lot of girls up there. It was too heavy.
It wasn't held down quite enough.
It was too windy.
It was on a hill.
It doesn't matter, it still fell.
I was smiling. I remember that I stopped smiling as it started to fall. I thought,
"it's not a big deal, it happens. We'll be okay."
As it fell, I saw the sky, then the bushes with pink and purple flowers on them. I didn't close my eyes. I was too afraid to do that.
I remember being airborne, for maybe one or two seconds. I had just had my hand around Lee's ankle. I remember. Me and Katelyn were trying to pull her down the slide with us. I don't recall letting go. But now I had nothing to hold on to, and no one to hold onto me. Then, I hit the ground.
It was dark at first. Very dark. Then I saw the blue and yellow of the blow-up.
I hurt a bit.
I was against, almost on top of someone- Kira. I rolled off of her, trying to give her space; there wasn't much of that. There was an opening in front of us, but the blow-up hadn't finished flipping. The rest fell, blocking the light. A little showed from the yellow net behind us, but it was almost covered because it was against the grass. My claustrophobia set it then.
I thought a lot of things.
We're going to run out of air. We're going to die.
It fell...it really fell.
Is someone already dead.
I was too scared to cry. This happened in seconds. As the blow-up was almost done flipping, I could feel it behind me, pressing against my neck and back, pushing me forward, almost on top of the other girls. I looked around and saw sunlight through a space where two sides of the blow-up met.
I heard the other girls talking, yelling, almost. I saw Katelyn crawling through the space. Kira was still beside me, and so was Allie. I had to get out so they could have room to follow. I was on my knees, so I half-crawled, half-walked to the space and squeezed out.
Katelyn was already out there, sitting on the ground. She was laughing, but I knew she did that when she was nervous or scared or something. She knew this was serious.
I looked back at the blow-up that lay upside down on the grass. Kira emerged, followed by Allie. She was the last to get out. She was holding her neck. She immediately sat on the ground.
The adults were there. One was beside Allie, seeing if she was alright. I could tell she was freaking out. She assured him she was okay.
I hardly ever see Allie like I'd seen her then. When the man walked away, she laid down with her head half on my lap, half on the ground. I couldn't move. I knew I was fine. I knew nothing was broken or sprained. I knew there wouldn't have to be any calls to parents about this. But I was scared. I was really, really scared.
It sounds childish, being freaked out about a blow-up slide flipping. But think about this: if I or Katelyn had been at the bottom of the slide, we would've free-fallen ten, maybe fifteen feet onto a pile of girls. The blow-up bending could have killed us. I'm just thankful that no one was seriously hurt. I was still too scared to cry about it. So were the other girls. We kinda just laughed about it. I'm only just now letting my feelings out.
I spent the night at Kira's- I didn't really want to face home just yet. When I did get home, I mowed the lawn. Then I went inside and played with my new cosplay glasses.
They were crooked. I didn't want them to be crooked. I didn't mean to bend them that much.
I watched my mother try to fit the two pieces back together with super glue. Then, echoing what my dad had said minutes ago, she stated, "I wish you hadn't done this."
Really? You wish? You think I did this on purpose? They're stupid glasses, and I'm closed to tears about them.
"I'm sorry I'm such a screw-up then!" I shouted. After that, I stood next to the sink, pondering what to do next. I was waiting for her to reply. For my dad to shout something from the living room. When nothing happened, I went upstairs to my room. I grabbed some pillows and stuffed animals and shoved them into my closet, where I lodged myself.
I figured either my dad or mom would come in moments or minutes to talk to me, to ask me what was wrong.
I waited an hour.
I gave up ten minutes ago, because I scared myself. I was still in my closet, crying into the huge stuffed cow that my uncle and aunt had given me years ago.
I noticed that my sewing kit was right next to me. Very close. There were needles in it.
No one would even know. Just a little scrape on my arm, like that girl in that book did. Of course, she'd done it a lot, but you have to start somewhere, right?
No.
Now I'm sitting against my bed. I'm contemplating playing my ukulele, but I don't think that will make me feel better. I'd probably be better off going to bed. I'm still thinking about almost dying, so I don't think I'll get that much sleep. I want to skip school tomorrow, but I know my parents won't let me. I haven't told them about the blow-up, and I don't think I'm going to.
I've wondered about the good things that happen to me, then the bad. A lot of bad happens, so much that it normally drowns out the good. But don't get me wrong.
I don't need a lecture. I don't need therapy or a doctor or medicine or anything like that. I don't need to be on antidepressants even though I'm depressed most of the time.
I just feel like a need a real reason to keep me going as I struggle against the tide.
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