Yes, my mother has threatened to have me committed several times. It’s her go-to when I’m being particularly difficult. I’m not sure if she’d follow through with it, but sometimes she’s unpredictable. She’s just as crazy as I am—thanks, genetics—and I worry she’d have us put in the same psych ward together.
JessaBelle2002: I don’t believe it. You don’t seem crazy.
RosieDoll528: That’s because I’m medicated.
Yeah, I have my own happy pills now. Mom made sure I got some, though she controls my dose.
She doesn’t know I’ve been biting my pills in half for several weeks and stowing the leftovers away. Not so I can overdose again; just in case I decide to run away. That way, I’ll still have some medicine with me until I can get settled somewhere else.
I like my pills. I need them. They make me somewhat normal.
Staring at the screen, I wait a full minute as I wring my hands. No response from Jessa.
I let out a humorless chuckle.
What did I expect? She’s probably in the process of blocking me right now.
Regret filters in as I get back to my card game. I shouldn’t have said all that. I could’ve made up any lie. How would Jessa know the difference?
But I’m allergic to lying—no joke.
I literally have a physical reaction to being untruthful. My heart starts to race, and I break out in a sweat. My skin gets red and splotchy on my chest and neck. The worst part? The sneezing.
My mom sees that as proof that there’s something unnatural about me. Something sinister and dark. She used to tell me I had a demon inside of me. I’m not sure if I believe in demons, but I do know there’s something off with my brain.
I’m just wired wrong.
A ping makes my eyes dart to the conversation box.
JessaBelle2002: What’s wrong with you?
I flinch. Well, at least she’s direct.
RosieDoll528: It’s an extreme anxiety disorder. If I don’t take my meds, I have bad nightmares and I wake up screaming. Sometimes I sleepwalk. Other times I’ll be awake for days.
JessaBelle2002: Insomnia and anxiety? A lot of people have those issues, and they still function in society just fine.
RosieDoll528: This is different. I don’t know how to explain it.
JessaBelle2002: Don’t you get lonely?
RosieDoll528: All the time.
JessaBelle2002: Do you ever get visitors?
RosieDoll528: Unless you count my doctor who does house calls, no.
JessaBelle2002: So you literally only see your mom?
RosieDoll528: Pretty much.
An image of Preston flashes in my mind. The way sweat trickles down the back of his neck, soaking his T-shirt while he brings the ax down on the logs. The way his gloved hands grasp the wooden handle. The way his ass flexes in his dirty jeans.
I rub a hand down my face, then check my desk mirror to make sure I didn’t smudge my makeup. It’s fine, but my lips need a touch up. Unzipping my floral makeup pouch, I dig around for my pink lip gloss.
I wonder if Preston would like red better… Would he kiss it off? Smear it across my face?
Damn it.
These uninvited thoughts and fantasies about him just won’t stop.
All I’m doing is torturing myself.
My mom has made it clear that no one would ever want me. It’s the same reason why she’s single. That’s why my father left her. Left us both and never looked back.
JessaBelle2002: What about when you were little?
RosieDoll528: I’ve always been here. Only here.
JessaBelle2002: Doctors don’t usually diagnose small children with mental illnesses. It’s very rare.
RosieDoll528: I guess I’m just a rare case, then. It was bad enough that my mom thought I needed to stay home. She means well, but it doesn’t stop me from hating her a little. That’s bad, right? Hating my own mom?
JessaBelle2002: Not when she’s abusing you. She can’t keep you trapped forever.
RosieDoll528: She can try.
JessaBelle2002: It sounds like you could use a vacation. You’ll be a legal adult tomorrow. Come down to Florida.
RosieDoll528: Oh, my mom would definitely never allow that.
JessaBelle2002: I wasn’t suggesting you ask her permission.
Jessa’s line of thinking isn’t too far from my own. She’s hinted at a real-life meeting before, but it always seemed like a hypothetical suggestion. Something in the future.
Now… she’s talking about now.
I give my backpack another glance as temptation mounts.
RosieDoll528: How would I get there?
JessaBelle2002: I take it you don’t know how to drive?
RosieDoll528: Nope.
JessaBelle2002: I can get you a train ticket. It’ll take you a couple days to get down here, but it’ll be worth it. We can hang out at my parents’ beach house. Go to Disney World. Swim in the ocean…
I shudder. She doesn’t realize it, but she just provoked one of my worst nightmares.
RosieDoll528: No swimming. Just looking at the water would be fine for me. From a distance. A good distance.
JessaBelle2002: Does that mean you’ll actually do it?? You’ll come here? DO IT.
Paralyzed with want and indecision, I sit completely still with my fists balled in my lap.
JessaBelle2002: DO IT DO IT DO IT.
JessaBelle2002: Seriously, Rosie Doll. There’s no reason why your life should be on hold. It should’ve started the day you were born.
She’s right. I’ve been caged for far too long.
Nibbling the inside of my lip until I taste blood, I blink as I seriously contemplate the offer. It’d be very generous of her, taking me in like that.
But if I leave here, I can never come back.
I wouldn’t want to.
That means I’ll have to figure out how to take care of myself.
Other than getting out of the house, I hadn’t thought too far ahead about my next steps in life. Jessa’s hospitality would be appreciated for as long as she’s willing to give it. I could use that time to form some plans, then I could go off on my own.
RosieDoll528: Are you sure you’re not a serial killer? Lol.
JessaBelle2002: Are you sure you wouldn’t be into that sort of thing?
RosieDoll528: *eye roll* That sounds like something a serial killer would say.
A picture comes through of Jessa making a silly face. She’s in pink pajamas with princess crowns all over it, and her blue-streaked blond hair is tied up into two pigtail buns.
RosieDoll528: You’re kind of a dork. I like it. I’m glad you’re my friend.
JessaBelle2002: And I’m glad you’re mine. So? Vacay? Are you for real about coming here? Because seriously, just tell me when you’re leaving, and I’ll get you that ticket.
Can I do this? I can. I will.
My heart pumps overtime as I type out my response.
RosieDoll528: Yes. I’ll wait until midnight, then I’ll sneak out.
JessaBelle2002: OMG. Yay! I’m so happy right now.
JessaBelle2002: Wait, will you be able to get out without getting caught?
Swiveling in my chair, I look at the bathroom. Past the open door, there’s an old laundry chute. It’s a tight metal shaft that goes all the way from the attic to the basement, with little openings at each floor on the way down.
I know from personal experience that I can fit inside.
On nights when I couldn’t sleep—restless from boredom and high on my meds—I’ve been brave enough to wiggle down the chute and poke around in the basement or creep through the house. Getting back up that way is a bitch and a half, but it can be done from the second floor.