Ghost Time

mom told me to calm down, but I wouldn’t listen. I just started losing it, and it all came back, this wave of rage. At my dad, my mom, at Cam, at the whole fucking world, and I remember my mom putting up her hands, walking over to touch me, and I said, Don’t you touch me! Get out, and go to hell, I said, clenching my jaw. Then I turned and went back to my room, and I slammed the door.
    I didn’t come out of my room all day, not until my mom forced me to, sometime after six. She knocked on my door and I said, What? Then she opened the door and she goes, What are you doing? I was sitting at my desk, trying to work, and I go, What’s it look like? She goes, Well, it looks like you’re glaring at me. Dinner, she said, and I said I wasn’t hungry, and then she said, I don’t care. Get out here, Thea, now. I know when I can push, but I could tell by her voice it wasn’t one of those times.
    So I walked out, fuming, and sat down at the table, thinking, You can’t make me eat. And then, before she could even say anything, I started in. I said, He has no right to be here. And she goes, He does. He has a legal right to see you, Thea. I go, Not here, not in my house! She goes, Thee, when are you going to forgive him? I said, When I’m ready. That’s when, I said, pushing my chair away from the table, standing up, and she goes, Sit. Down . Sit your ass down, right now, young lady, and eat your dinner, she said, so I parked it.
    She brought over a bowl of soup, and she said, I want you to eat before you leave this table. I go, I’m not hungry, and she goes, I didn’t ask if you were hungry—in fact, I didn’t ask you anything. Eat, she said, speaking to me like I was three years old. I said, Please, Mom, I’m not hungry. She goes, Thea, you’re losing weight. You don’t go out; you barely leave your room—. I can’t go outside, I said, and she goes, I know. But I want you to start taking care of yourself. I didn’t argue, Thea—I didn’t say a word about you missing school—I know perfectly well how many classes you’ve been skipping, and I haven’t said a word. Because I know you need space; it’s got to be hell, I know. But you’re goingto eat something. Right now. Come on: four bites, she said, and I looked at the bowl.
    I pushed my spoon around, and I tried, but the smell of food was so disgusting. I said, I can’t, Mom. I can’t do this—I can’t do any of this anymore, and I started crying. I didn’t think she’d budge, and then she stood and walked to my chair, before hugging me.
    It’s going to be all right, she said, kissing my head. I looked at her, and I said, How can you say that? She tilted her head, side to side, then she goes, Good question. I don’t know, sweetheart…. I guess, I guess you just have to believe, like it or not, she said, hugging my head to her stomach. Made me so angry, too, I raised my voice again, and I go, Believe in what, Mom? In what? She took my chin in her head, and she lifted my face, and then she said, In you, Thea. I believe in you.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 27, 2010
    (FOUR MONTHS EARLIER)
    2:47 PM
    There were parties all week, and Cam kept asking me to go, but I wouldn’t. I just couldn’t stand the thought of someone saying something, making a dig—anything would have set me off. But finally, he was just like, Thea, what’s the deal? I mean, we’d gotten so close, and I think he thought I was pushing him away. Maybe I was, but then I decided to tell him. I knew he must have heard something, so I told him all about the party, what happened, the hospital, how one thing lead to another, you know?
    It got really bad after Spencer’s party, after all my friends turned on me. That Monday, after the party, I can’t describe it, but soon as I walked in the door, I knew something had changed, and whatever it was, I knew it had something to do with me. It started building like a headache, little by little. After a few days, I didn’t feel anything but pressure, all day long, from the moment I opened my eyes, until I closed them. Even in my sleep,I felt pressure, building and building, and the only way to relieve the pressure was to cut it out—I had to get it out. That’s what happened. One day, after school, right before spring break. I cut too deep, and I got blood everywhere. When I passed out, seeing all the blood, I hit my head on the side of the bathtub and gave myself a concussion. I was completely out, when my mom found me, and then she freaked and