Reckless (Part One)

he was my best friend.

the nights that i slipped up, when i would call him with nothing to say, he would climb in my window and hug me until the tears ran dry and i fell asleep.

it all started when we had met when we were 14. i was having one of those days and i had gone for a walk.
my chuck taylors stuck out from under my jeans, which were artfully tattered around the bottoms. i wore my favourite hoodie- it was several sizes too big for me, and i wore it now with the hood up. i kept my head down to avoid questions, but as i walked past the skateboard bowl i caught the attention of the boys skating there. i heard no words, just that they were calling out at me. i headed into the thick trees up on the hill towards my usual spot, never looking back at them.
i never noticed the passing of time, or the thick fat tears that were flying down my cheeks until i looked up. everything was silent now, and someone stood before me. the first thing i noticed was his shoes. they were identical to mine. faded jeans hung over them, and he wore a band t-shirt. when i looked at his face, there was so much concern in his eyes that i nearly threw up.
"want to talk?" he offered me gently.
"nothing is wrong. i have nothing to say." it was then that i saw the skateboard in his hands. he was one of the boys from earlier, when i had walked past.
"well then i am going to sit here with you until you want to talk or until those tears stop." his name was jack. and he did. from then on, he would sit with me, riding out the storm. and it had got a hell of a lot worse before it had started to get better...

********************


the first time it happened, i was at school. it was late in the fall, i was 15, and everything had been going worse than normal. normal for me, anyway. a teacher picking a fight with me, the girls in PE laughing at my lack of co-ordination and friends. it all built on the foundations that had long since been there. lack of sleep was a constant- i had realised i was terrible at it. i hated sleeping during the night time, often staying awake until 3 or 4am. which was fine, until i was forced to get up and go to school the next day at 6:45am. like that wasnt bad enough, my parents were constantly fighting with me and each other, favouring instead my older brother. he had moved out of home a couple of years ago, but their attention was still strongly focused on him. then there was school- my own personal hell. i happened to go to a school in a small town, where everyone had known everyones business and parents and it never changed. where it was essential to be in the right crowd. even in the wrong crowd, at least you had others there to be in the wrong crowd with you. i had no one, and including the geeks and the metal heads, i was the most hated person in the school. how i survived each day was a complete miracle.

that day had been simply dreadful, and it just tossed me over the edge.
"why dont you just go cut your wrists or something. make the world a better place"
these words rung in my ears all day everyday.
so once they had been spoken to me on that day, i took the advice. i sat on top of the toilet seat and removed the blade from my pencil sharpener. it hurt at first, but once the red began to flow, the pain licked up and down my arm, but somehow made it better. of course, it made it worse too, but i found relief in the blood. the blood and the tears flowed for a short time before i called jack.
"its me. i need you jack."
he sighed quietly- not out of frustration or anger, but fear. "meet me out by the trail in five minutes."
jack went to the boys equivalent of my school. he was a skater, and they had their own little clique. they were tight knit, but still laid back and friendly- once you knew them. we met after school every day to walk home through the trail that had been made from sand on the grass.
i then pulled my things together and walked out of the school, my head swirling. toilet paper was wrapped around my wrist to stop the bleeding from staining my white school shirt. i knew my mother would have questions for that one.
mine and jacks relationship was one of few words. he knew me well enough that i had few words for my emotions, and he also knew me well enough that a look or a word from me was enough to surmise what emotional situation i was in. so when we met at the trail, he held out his hands for my arm. i gave it to him hesitantly. he knew what had happened. i had talked to him about it a couple of times, not with intention to do anything, not at the time, but he knew that if i did do it, it was not for attention. i kept my head down while he carefully removed the toilet paper tourniquet. all i heard was a small inhalation that could have been a sigh or a gasp. then he very softly stroked the area around the red angry lines, wound me back up and hugged me. i breathed him in, making me feel calm. he was my home, my safest place. then he took my hand and led me to his house.
to outsiders, we would look like a couple. i knew this, but it didnt bother me at all, though i did not think of him in this way at all. we were very best friends, though not at all like brothers and sisters. when he snuck into my room, when he lay on my bed while i lay in it, it was nothing more than him being there for me. of course, i knew it was more than i deserved, but it didnt stop me needing him.
when we got to his house, his mother was in the kitchen, just cleaning up after a baking session. she was not at all surprised to see us. his mother understood us, though i think a tiny bit of her hoped we would fall in love and get married one day. her hopes were in vain, though it was nice to have someone on our side.
"hey kids. cookies or sandwiches?"
"both mom, kat and me need to talk for a bit though, kay?"
"sure jack. i wont intrude."
"thanks amelia,"i said quietly. i knew she would hear the sadness in my voice.
we climbed the stairs that always made my legs ache because of the height of them.
i headed straight for his bed- the double bed that was sunken in the middle. it was always a mess. and it always smelt just like jack, in such a concentrated form that i always relaxed here. i curled up under his covers and stared bleakly at him, not really seeing him at all. he put on a cd, one of our favourites. then he curled up in front of me, in the exact same position as me, our foerheads nearly touching. he looked at me with his impossibly brown eyes, gently and discreetly convincing me to talk.
"seriously jack, it was just one of those days. but worse."
he closed his eyes for a moment- a nod.
at that minute, amelia came in with the food on a tray, with two bottles of icy cold peach iced tea. it was times like this that i just adored her. she put it down silently on the floor beside us and left, closing the door behind her.
jack and i lay there for hours.
at about 4pm, i called my house. i let my parents know i was staying at jacks, and they sighed and agreed with distaste strong in their voices.
i distinctly remember that night. it was about 11 o'clock, and jack wiped a tear from the corner of my eye.
"kat?"
"mmmm?"
"will you do it again?"
"what?" i didnt know what he was talking about- we hadnt been keeping up a regular conversation.
"will you cut yourself again? just so i know. i dont want you to, but i doubt that will stop you. i just need to know."
i thought about that for a moment. the bright red liquid springing to the surface, the shivers as the blade sank back into the cut, pulling more blood as it moved...
"im sorry jack. i dont know. but i would say it is likely."
"im always going to be here. when you call and dont say anything, i know. i know you kat, and i am always going to keep trying. youre worth so much to me."
i kept very still, barely breathing. he did know me, and he knew me well enough to know that i did not express feelings to him, not like this. but he knew i loved him just like he loved me. so words were saved.

jack never gave up on me. he would listen to me crying on the phone, unable to say anything. he would also turn up to my house, silently through my window, with a first aid kit. it was bandages and disinfecting wipes and occasionally a needle and thread. the first time he pulled that out, i gaped at him.
"i went to the doctors kat. i knew you wouldnt go. i asked him to show me how to stich you up when the cuts got too big." and he handled me so well, i never hesitated in handing him my bleeding arm.
the one thing i never understood was why he never asked me why i didnt call him before i did it. i always thought about it. when the blade was in my hand, i thought about him. i pictured him in his room, reading a comic or listening to music or doing his homework. and cut anyway. then i would call him. not a word was spoken except him saying "hey, kat." then, after a short silence- "there in a minute".
it wasnt every night. some nights, we would go out with his friends. they were great, and despite me never letting loose, they accepted me into their group with no questions. we got on well, and i pretended for them.
other nights were so bad i wouldnt even be able to pick up the phone to call him. so he came over anyway. we talked everyday, so when we didnt, he knew it was bad. he always bought the needle and thread on those days.
when i started not turning up for school, i could see the pressure it put on him. did he stay home with me, or go to school and work for his grades so he could have a future? of course, this was jack, and i was his future. without me, he thought he wouldnt have a future. he had to work to give us both a life, instead of just himself. i disagreed so very strongly about this, and we fought about it regularly. he always won.
but most days, i would meet him at the end of my street, rain or shine, and we would walk to school. some days we would talk, some days i was furious with him and i would glare at my shoes as i scuffed my way to school. but he was always there, holding my folder, on my right hand side. on wet days he would bring a huge umbrella, and hold it above my head. most days i managed to get through just pretending. after school we would go to his house, or mine if my parents werent there, and play computer games, or go skateboarding (though i had not yet learned how to do this), or do our homework. whatever it was, we were always together. we never got sick of each other. even when we were fighting (mostly about him sacrificing his life for me), he would come over and stick with me. i heard the rumours, i heard the disapproval in my parents voice and the hope in his mothers. i did not care that people thought we were too close, that we were dating, that we were losers. we were, but we were losers together. it made sense.







one day i remember sitting in the kitchen while my mom busied about, making dinner. i had all my books sprawled out in front of me. i barely knew the subjects i was taking, let alone what i was learning.
"so what are you doing tonight katherine?"
i sighed. she knew the answer. "jacks coming over to help me with my essay."
"you spend too much time with that boy. what about making some girlfriends? or even a nice young man for a boyfriend?"
"i dont like girls. and i dont want a boyfriend. jack is my best friend."
"but what about when he wants a girlfriend? what are you going to do when they spend all their time together?"
i had thought about this many times. i didnt dare ask jack though- i was terrified of the possibility of this happening. "ill go back to the way i was then mom. i can live without him you know."
this was a blatant lie. i could barely survive without him, let alone lead a normal life and move on.


at age sixteen, we had both changed a little. he had grown less gangly; he had grown into his height. he still wore the same shoes, though they were now a few sizes bigger. i had accquired his old ones; they were perfectly broken in. i had grown my hair out, sick of it not being able to stick behind my ears. but essentially, we were exactly the same as the first day we met. the rumours kept growing, and we kept ignoring them. jacks skater friends were periodically dating, and i had to put up with the giggles and snide comments of their idiot girlfriends whenever we all got together.

i never did bring up the topic of jack wanting a girlfriend, but he never seemed envious of the others. of course, then a little red devil would pop up on my shoulder and argue that he was probably happy with me as his girlfriend. i hated that devil with a passion.

i still had my bad days, and i still had my really terrible days. every now and then i would have a good day. this basically was made up of weekends when my parents would go away, or we finished a computer game, or we had no homework, or when i didnt fall off his old skateboard as he tried to teach me. they rarely happened, but the spark and energy in jacks eyes was undeniable. this always made me wonder what would happen if i were a happy version of me. i could never picture this. i never saw a future, i never saw myself getting better. it was thoughts like these that i kept from jack. i knew they would kill any hope he had for me, and weigh his heart down even more.

another moment in my head is one that sticks out prominently for me. sort of.
it was the day before my seventeenth birthday, and it was like having ten bad days all at one time. everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong. plus a few things that showed up to make me more miserable. i called jack that day. it was a saturday afternoon, and i kept the conversation short. i managed to convince him that i was having an ok day, and that i would see him the next day at my birthday dinner. he had come around that morning to watch a movie with me, but had to leave to do some chores for his mother.

that afternoon, when my parents went grocery shopping. i stayed behind, and cried for about ten minutes before i gave up. i completely gave up hope. i crept into my parents rooms and lifted my moms lamp up. i knew this was where she hid her stash of sleeping pills, and grabbed the whole bag. i didnt care that she would notice, it wasnt like i was ever going to see her again. this fact hit me, but it didnt change my mind. i thought about writing a note, but i had always been short of words. so i lifted my bed post a fraction off the ground, where i kept one of my many blades. jack went on frequent raids of my room to remove them all, and often came up with ten at a time. they were hidden in slightly obvious places. he simply got up, moved around my room and removed them. never got angry or sad. he just removed them like he was dusting the room.

i washed down the fifty-odd pills with some vodka i had taken from the kitchen cabinet. it burned my nose and throat, so i downed the whole thing. the tears on my face now were from pain and sadness. then, i paid attention as the pills started to take affect. my head swam a little but i focused. this was important. i drove the blade in deeper than i had ever gone before, again and again. my hands shook, but i didnt care. it made even more of a mess. i was soon swimming in my own blood, and it was not very long before the knife fell to the floor, and myself with it.


when i woke up, the first thing i remembered was everything hurting. my throat hurt as i inhaled and exhaled, my nose hurt too from the same action. my whole body ached like i had the flu. and then there was the emotional pain. i had failed. i wondered who had found me, as i kept my eyes closed. i didnt want anyone to know i had woken up until i was a little more informed.
i was aware if a dull pressure on my hand. it took me a minute to realise it was another hand. i sneaked a tiny peek, and saw jack attached to it. of course. of course he would find me. i hadnt thought about the possibility of him not believeing me that i was ok.

i head footsteps then, growing louder as they approached.
"jack? jack wake up. you need a proper night sleep. how are you going to be able to help her when she wakes up if you can barely keep your eyes open?" it was amelia. a sense of pure dread washed over me then. i sincerely wished it had worked. i couldnt even get dying right.
"no way. im not leaving her. what if she wakes up and im not here? she needs me, even when shes unconscious. she was squeezing my hand a couple of times the last couple of days. shes getting better, i can tell. im not giving up on her mom, never."
"ok honey. anything i can get you then? you always were stubborn."
"thanks mom, im alright for now."
i heard amelia walk away, back to whereever she had come from.
very carefully, very deliberately, i squeezed jacks hand. not too hard. pain seared up my arm, but i ignored it.
he gasped and looked up at me. i know this because i opened my eyes.
"kat, oh kat. youre awake. oh kat." his voice was so filled with sorrow and pain i nearly shut my eyes again.
"what happened?"
"i left my memory card at your house, so i came over to get it. you hadnt answered your phone, and i was worried. when i found you, i....i... kat, i thought you were.... dead." his voice was barely a whisper. his huge brown eyes looked into my pale blue ones and tears began dripping from his face. they werent nice tears. they were fat and came at an irregular pace. i watched him very closely.
"jack. i love you jack. and im sorry."
"i love you too kat. why did you do it? why didnt you call me? i would have been there in one minute. i know i cant make it better, but does this make it any better? you spent your seventeenth birthday here, nearly dead."
it was then that i looked around me. of course i was in hospital. i dared to look down at my hands. there were thick bandages on them, and cords and tubes and wires and needles all sticking out from me. the bandages wound up to my elbows, and i could faintly see a browny-red colour under them. i looked away. my eyes were still stick from the sleep, but i knew the room around me was white and small enough for it to be a private room.
"they had to pump your stomach, and give you a blood transfusion or two. they said you were going to be sore when you wake up. are you in much pain?"
"not that the doctors can fix. how long?"
"today is thursday. you have been here since saturday. so, about five days."
we were silent for a while. he rubbed circles in the backs of my hands where the tubes werent protruding.
"i was going to write a note, but i didnt know what to say."
"did you do it intending to die, kat?" his voice was low and he was looking down.
"yeah. yeah i did, jack. failure, right?"
"not a failure. im so glad i found you. worst thing ive seen in my life, but i found you just in time."
"i wish i had got it right. im going to have to face everyone now. oh god what did my parents say?" i was mortified. i hadnt thought about what would happen if i managed to wake up.
"they... well they were genuinely shocked kat." i could hear the rejection in his voice as i told him even he wouldnt keep me alive.
"really? did they not have the slightest idea that something was wrong?" i was crushed. my own parents couldnt see that something was wrong. it wasnt like i hid it to that degree. sure, i hid the physical evidence, but i often walked in crying. i guessed they were paying less attention than i thought.
jack let me be silent for a while. he knew i was thinking, and he allowed me that, but i saw the pain in his eyes. he suspected my thoughts were less than cheerful. i knew, at that moment, he wouldnt want to trust me again. when i said i was fine, he wouldnt believe me. he would barely let me out of his sight. and now he would ask questions.


when i got out of hospital, i was ordered to see a psychologist. when i heard this news i nearly went to go do a proper job of it. talking to a stranger about my feelings was out of the question.
until jack grabbed my hand. "ill be right next to you the whole time kat, dont you worry." he sounded almost excited.
my chest expanded at that point. if jack was there, anything was bearable.


my first session was difficult. to say the least. the first question she asked was why i decided to kill myself. i stared at her, bewildered. i was thankful for jack then, because he got all fired up and started yelling at her. after we all calmed down, she reworded her question.
"how did you get to this point, katherine? what are the events that led up to this day?"
and it was then that i realised that i didnt really know. when i told her this, she grinned. it was like i had handed her a great big present.


over the next few weeks, my therapist, jack and i all sat in the room and tried to get me to remember reasons why i was so damaged. after five weeks, i got bored. there had been no signs of improvement; in fact i was sure i felt worse afterwards. so i made excuses not to go. three weeks in a row i made varying excuses, and, the night of the third missed appointment, jack asked me about it.
"kat," he said as he sat next to me on his bed, "you really dont like therapy do you?"
i rolled my eyes- he couldnt see. he was staring at our feet that were tapping absentmindedly to the music in the background. "no, jack i hate it. she so fake. how can i spill my guts to someone i can see right through?"
we were quiet for a minute then, thinking about it all.
"i just want you to stop wanting to die." i was shocked. not because of what he said, but the way he said it. normally his head would have been down, his voice slightly muffled at he spoke downwards. now he turned to look at me and said it with such ferocity that i was stunned. i looked at him. his eyes were burning as though they were on fire. the deep brown grew and overpowered me.
so i said what he wanted to hear. almost. instead i said what i didnt actually realise until i saw the look on his face. "so do i jack. so do i."



from then on, i let jack in. when he asked if i was ok, i would tell him exactly what i was. it was tremendously difficult. i didnt know words for most of the things i felt. i was good at analogies though, so i instead provided him with one of those, when words wouldnt suffice. he was good at understanding me. i slowly grew used to this. i could see it was hard for him too, when i told him of the strong desires i had to hurt myself, but he always urged me on. we fought more, with all these feelings being shared. it made me more emotional once they had all been brought to the table, and i always took it out on him.

for six months, we carried on in this fashion. it wasnt so hard after a while. i got used to him asking with his eyes. when i said i felt something odd, he would tilt his head to the side and question me silently, asking for another analogy. at this rate, we were both doing better in our english classes.


"katherine," my mother started hesitantly.
i was sitting in my kitchen doing my homework one sunday evening, letting the smells of our inpending roast dinner sidetrack me.
"yes, mom?" i asked wearily
"do you think maybe you could try your psychiatrist again?"
"psychologist, mom. and why?"
"the hospital called. they wanted to know how you were doing. its six months since you.... were admitted." the conversation was awkward for her, of that i was beyond certain. i saw her glance automatically at my arms. she couldnt see anything, but it still made me paranoid. i never did it for the attention.
"i really dont think it helped."
"maybe you could try an new person this time?"
she really wanted this, i could tell. well, whatever made her happy i guess.
"sure. call them tomorrow and book me in."
she stared at me for a second, with a look on her face i couldnt quite decipher. i knew she didnt expect me to give in that easily.



jack came with me again. this time i had a nicer lady. she made us tea (which neither of us drank) and let us lie on the big cliched couch. we werent happy to be there, but it was easier if we made it a bit of a joke. once we calmed down, she asked us how we were. which surprised me.
"fine thanks, how are you?" i didnt even hear myself say the words, it was just an automatic response. jack knew this and elbowed me in the ribs.
"kat just tell me how you really are. tell both of us. like you do with me. otherwise theres no point in us being here."
i glared at him. he knew why i was so hesitant.
"just pretend its you and me here. like we are sitting on my bed at home." i liked it when he called his house our home. i practically lived there most of the time anyway.
"it doesnt smell like you here. i cant relax."
he pulled off his sweatshirt and gave it to me. childishly, i buried my face in it. i took a deep breath and answered properly.
"today i feel numb. everything is surreal. it doesnt feel like im here, its like im on automatic. even though i havent been in here before or met you, i feel like im just going through the motions."
the therapist, anna, smiled. it wasnt like the last lady, she smiled warmly. she was happy i was sharing, she was happy i was being honest.
"now katherine, im going to ask you a few simple questions everytime you come here. so that youre prepared. the answers might change everytime, and they might not. firstly, i am going to ask you how you are. then i am going to ask you how the last week has been for you. and then i am going to ask you about self harm. and then i am going to ask about suicide." her voice was soft and gentle. it still scared me though.
jack elbowed me again. i was going to get a bruise if he didnt quit it.
"you might as well. if you dont like her, dont come back." i saw him smile sympathetically toward anna over my shoulder. i scowled.
"fine." i was acting very childish today, but it didnt bother me.
"ok katherine-"
"its kat." jack interjected.
"kat. when was the last time you harmed yourself?"
i closed my eyes as i answered. "two day ago." which was actually quite a while for me.
"and why did you do it then?"
"me and mom had an argument."
"did you argue with you mother yesterday?"
"yes. most days."
"why didnt you harm yourself yesterday?"
"jack was there."
anna took this in for a minute. i was a little unnerved by all the silence, so i spoke again. "he makes me not do it. i wouldnt ever dream of doing it in front of jack. i dont hurt as much with jack."
jack looked at me with concern. he knew all of this- it wasnt news to him. i also thought it was a fairly obvious answer. but apparently not.
"what do you think would happen if jack suddenly wasnt there?"
"i would just go back to normal."
"really? if jack moved away, or died, would you really be able to just continue your life as though he was never in it?"
fear and irrational concern consumed me. i was suddenly unaware of what was around me, and immersed in my thoughts.
i imagined amelia telling me and jack that they were moving. far far away. my first thought would be to move with them, obviously. then my mind picked up the little flaws that surrounded that possibility. like money and school. so then i thought about jack dying. the thing about that scenario was that everytime i saw him lying cold and dead on the floor, i saw myself right next to him, exactly the same way. morbidly, i brightened at the sheer thought of that. though i knew he wouldnt want to willingly die anytime soon. natural death was on his cards.
"kat?"
i looked up as anna's voice broke my daze.