Ghost Time

I was going to ask him if I could move in with them. I said, Relax. I’m giving Mel a makeover, that’s all.
    Knox had to work late, and Heather’s mom was really sick, so she was out of town every weekend, so I asked if I could hang with Mel. At first, I didn’t think Knox would agree, but then he helped me rearrange the furniture so I could set up a table for makeup and a mirror. All set, I said, meaning he could leave, and then he gave Mel a kiss good-bye, telling her to be good. Thea, if anything happens, he said, warning me, and I go, Knox, nothing is going to happen—come on, you don’t do anything when someone does your hair and makeup: you just close your eyes andchill. When he finally left, I was just like, Mel, ohmygod, your dad, and she goes, Don’t get me started , so I didn’t.
    Anyhow, I think it was really calming for her—it feels good, having someone do your makeup, brushing your hair. Kind of like a massage, and Melody has such beautiful skin, too. Porcelain, and she always says she has such white skin because she’s like human veal, ha, ha, ha, but that’s not it. They take her out more than I’m ever outside, trust me. No, she just had that really beautiful white, white skin. Her hair would be great, too, if you set it in rollers. So that’s what I decided to do, set her hair in rollers while I did her makeup.
    Honestly, I couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked, so I took all these pictures. I wanted to put her in all these different outfits, too, and I did, but it was a lot of work. I almost broke a sweat, changing her, and I know it was hard for Mel, letting me do that, changing her clothes for her. It’s this horrible thought that she’s a burden, and it passes through me, this jolt, when her muscles tense, like she’s trying to protect herself, but she can’t. And when I feel her body do that, I see her again the way the rest of the world sees her, but still. That night, when I turned her around, in front of the mirror and I did the big reveal, she gasped, saying, Ohmygod, is that me? That’s you, I said, and for once, I knew how Cam felt, showing me that girl I didn’t see. And I wished so badly he was there, so I could tell him, but then I had to turn away, because my eyes got all teary.
    Thee, I want to ask you something , Mel said, when I sat down again. I knew what she was going to say before she asked. And I knew there was no getting out of it, either. I tried to hidethem, covering myself when I got undressed, but I knew she must have seen. And she knew, somehow she just knew, and I guess I just hoped she’d leave it alone, but no. How could you do that? she said, and I looked at my hands. How can you take a razor and do that to yourself? That’s the thing, I said. It won’t make sense to you, because the same force you feel not to do that to yourself, whatever that instinct is, self-preservation, whatever, I felt the opposite pull to do it. I had to do it: it wasn’t a choice anymore than breathing. Sometimes I didn’t even want to do it, but I had to. Did you ever ask for help? And I knew she didn’t mean to sound so snotty, I know, but she did.
    Look, Mel, you got your bad wiring; I got mine. I mean, why do you think we’re so different? Because I would never do that to myself , she said, and I said, How can you know that, Mel? Seriously, I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you not to judge me. She goes, I don’t judge you, Thea , and I go, Well, you should hear yourself in my head. I’m just telling you how I feel , she said. Thinking of you doing that to yourself, it hurts. That’s what I’m trying to say , she said, and I go, You don’t understand, and she goes, No, I don’t, so tell me.
    I just sighed, so not wanting to get into it, but needing to, at the same time. I said, It’s just this, this pressure that used to build. At first, it feels annoying, like you have a splinter, and you want to take it out—drives you crazy, and you have to get it out. Except that the splinter starts getting bigger, all this pressure starts building, and it’s like you feel it right beneath the skin, but it won’t come out on its own. I never know where I’ll feel it, because sometimes it’s my thigh, or sometimes it’s my arm, butit’s this huge piece of glass, and I have to cut it out or I feel like I’ll lose my mind. It’s so crazy-making, and all I care about is making the cut so my head doesn’t explode, I said. I stopped