Grace

-Grace-

I’m a messed up person. I should be happy. I mean, my life is like a dream. I live in a huge mansion. I don’t have to work. I have a great boyfriend. And the sex! Ooo! It’s the best I’ve ever had. Oh!

But I can never be happy. I don’t know why. I find myself crying at times. I have no energy. I don’t even want to get out of bed at times. My mother says it’s bipolar disorder. But I’m not so sure anymore. Am I really sick? Or did she make me this way?

I used to take medication. But Jimmy said that I should stop. I wasn’t sure about that at first. I told him that he wouldn’t like me off my meds. He insisted I try it. And it feels great! My head feels so clear. I sound like an actual person. Everything is kind of okay. But lately, things have gotten bad.

Twenty-four.

That number was burned into the back of my shoulder. I am going to die next year at the Fire Festival. I can’t tell anyone this. They won’t believe me. My mom will think that I am planning suicide. She doesn’t know that I stopped taking my meds. (I have been really good at hiding it.) I didn’t know what to do.

I thought I was going to die alone. Then I met Jimmy.

Jimmy.

He became the light of my life. He has the number two on his shoulder. Yeh, he’s like me. We don’t want to die. But we don’t know what to do.

I am scared. I’m not going to lie. Not just about dying. But my mother putting me back on my meds. Back in that cage. I want to be free. I don’t think I am sick. I am fine!

But there is him.

My stomach turns when I think about his voice. I think he watches me sleep. I don’t know what to do. Mom will figure out I was off my meds if I tell her. There was only one person I could tell.

I pulled out my phone.

“Hello?” Jimmy said. I started to cry.

“I’ve seen him again,” I whispered. This time, I saw him watching me out of the corner of my room.