I was greatly disturbed that I had made my way here. I got out of my car anxiously. Now that I was away from everyone, I was calmer. I wasn’t rushing to go anywhere; I walked solemnly to the eerily familiar spot. I chuckled bitterly at how the first time I was here felt like a lifetime ago.

I traced my fingertips of the railing of the bridge and gazed into the river. It wasn’t going to kill me. Mike fell on the most rough of days—today, the water was rather calm—yet he had somehow made it out alive.

I sighed and sat down behind the railing. I didn’t sit on top of it, dangerously dangling my legs over the side, because I really didn’t want to kill myself. I just wanted to calm down—how ironic that it was this place that was able to do the job. Maybe it was because it reminded me of death—even though Mike was impossibly alive, even though his fall didn’t kill him, this bridge represented the end of life. It was where I came to try and end mine, it was where Mike’s almost ended… but it was also the place I tossed all of my old blades—the end of an old life, a horrible phase I had once been caught in. Maybe all of the death was what was calming me; it was reminding me how awful death was, and how much there was to live for. Staring at the flowing water beneath me, I didn’t want to die anymore. I was angry. I was out of control. I was horrible to not only a girl in general, but Alyssa. I was angry with myself, but I wasn’t about to kill myself. No, I came here to remind myself all of the reasons why I needed to be alive.

“Holy shit, Vic,” I heard someone breathe. That someone being Mike. I turned around slowly and looked at him sadly. “I thought you had jumped,” he whispered. I shook my head.

“No,” I said softly. “I’m just thinking.”

“Thank god,” he said quietly. “I’d ask if you wanted to be alone, but I’m afraid this is a little too close for comfort for me,” he said.

“You don’t have to be here,” I said. “I’m not sitting on the railing this time, though,” I thought that was important to say.

“I know buddy,” he whispered.

“Mike,” I whimpered.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” I cried. I buried my face into my hands. “You are here. You’re fucking alive. It’s tearing me apart inside. I want you here, but I don't know how to handle it. I don’t know how to handle anything! And I ruined everything. You know what happened to me, and now you saw it your self. I’m insane, Mike,” I sobbed.

“You’re not insane, Vic,” Mike disagreed. He patted my arm reassuringly. “Please, we’ll talk somewhere else. But not here. Please, not here,” he begged. I couldn’t deny him. I nodded and stood up. Mike grabbed my arm tightly, as if he was afraid I would change my mind and dive right into the river.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered when we got into the car. I sunk back into the leather and clenched my eyes shut. “I lost so much control. I didn’t even feel like me. I just wanted to kill them so bad,” I said. My teeth gritted at the word “kill”, my anger slightly rising again. “Talk about a reunion,” I muttered, gripping my hair.

“Vic, stop,” Mike said. “Let go of your hair. Relax. Thinking about it will just get you riled up again,” he soothed.

“I can’t not think about it!” I yelled, gripping my hair again. “Oh, God, I can’t control myself anymore!” I cried. I was completely unleashed; I didn’t know how to bring myself back. Every tiny thing was setting me off. The more I thought about what happened, the more worked up I would get. It was vicious and unhealthy.

“Vic…” Mike said.

“It’s too late,” I whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s too late, Mike. I can’t take back anything. And now you know who I am, and—”

“No, Vic. This is not who you are. You feel guilty and upset, but it will fade eventually. This is not who you are, I know it,” Mike said.

“I pushed my girlfriend, Mike. I hurt her,” I whispered. “I pushed her more than once, even though I didn’t want to,” I said.

“It’s—”

“It’s not okay, Mike. That is not okay,” I sighed with a ragged breath. “I’m sorry I’m not the brother you—”

“Vic, I don’t give a fuck. You’re my brother. Three months ago I didn’t even know I had one. But seeing you like this hurts so bad. It hurts my head. I know you’re a good person. I know you have problems, too, but that’s not your fault. Don’t put yourself down like that, because I’ll take you in any form I can get,” he said firmly, yet his voice cracking at the end.

My bottom lip quivered and I sighed again, refusing to allow myself to cry. “I was in a mental hospital for nearly six months, Mike,” I whispered. I closed my eyes and bowed my head in shame. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and when he finally did, it was a simple “oh”.

“Yeah,” I muttered. Anxiously, I lifted my right hand to scratch at my left arm, but before I could reach it I stopped because Mike spoke again.

“I don’t really fucking care,” he said bluntly. My head shot up and I stared at him curiously. “I care in the sense that I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m so fucking sorry you’ve been through hell. But I don’t care that you were sick and in a hospital. You’re better now. You had a moment just now, but you’re better. I know you’re better because you have a girlfriend, your own apartment…” he said. I sniffled and nodded.

“I have been better, Mike. I really have been. But also so much other shit has happened… I can’t even begin to explain… but, I was happy. Alyssa makes me happy, Mike. I feel okay with her. And things were okay…we were both doing so good… but then I snapped. I completely snapped and I’ve probably scared her away,” I whispered sadly. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, but it just triggered so much inside of me,” I added.

“I understand. It’s like, whenever things are calm, something happens to make everything crazy again. I get it, and I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s not your—”

“I know it’s not my fault,” he said. “You just keep being tested, Vic. It’s not fair. So many situations have been thrown at you at once,” he said.

I nodded in agreement. “But that doesn’t matter. I hurt Alyssa,” I breathed.

“Come on,” Mike started the car. “Let’s go talk to her,” he said.

“If she talks to me,” I sighed sadly.

“She will. It wasn’t nearly as bad as you make it out to be.”

“Mike,” I croaked. “It was really bad… I… I… I could have really hurt someone…” I whispered. I could almost feel the handle of the knife in my left hand again, my shaking fingers and sweaty palm wrapped around the end of the dangerous object.

“Well you didn't—”

“What about Lissy?” I frowned. “I pushed her. More than once,” I grimaced, thinking about my own actions. I wasn’t going to admit it outloud, but I still didn’t feel sorry for almost killing my parents. I was only sorry for hurting Alyssa and causing a ruckus that Mike and Jaime had to witness and deal with.

Mike was silent the rest of the car ride—I didn’t blame him. I bit my lip anxiously and looked out the window quietly. The closer and closer we got back to wherever we were going, the worse I felt and the more I wanted to run away again. Maybe not die, but maybe get away for a while. My stomach twisted when I realized this was probably what had been going through Bree’s mind before she left me… that she didn’t want to die, but she wanted to get away because she needed fresh air.

“Vic,” Mike said, shaking me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“You look sick,” he said.

“I am,” I whispered, turning away again.

The car stopped, and I looked up to see that we were back at me and Tony’s apartment. I gripped the armrests nervously. I didn’t even notice when my side of the car door opened. I expected it to be Mike, but my stomach twisted again when I saw it was Tony. My eyes widened.

I knew it was no use to say anything to Tony. He wasn’t the one I should be apologizing to, anyway. He wouldn’t want to hear it. We just kind of stared at each other before I got the nerve to unbuckle and turn to get out of the car.

“No matter what we do, we both seem to keep hurting Alyssa,” he mumbled into my ear. “We’ve both made mistakes. Just talk to her,” he encouraged. I nodded thankfully at him, while reflecting on what he said. He was right. Alyssa faced the butt end of both of our problems—Tony trying to kill himself a few months ago, forgetting about how she would feel about it, and me, today, pushing her out of the way as I lost myself in my anger. Yet she still was insanely forgiving and understanding. She, frankly, didn’t deserve either of us.

A small part of me wished that she wouldn’t forgive me. My actions were inexcusable, and I needed to fight a little harder for her to forgive me. I didn’t want to just cry and fall into her forgiving arms. I wanted her to maybe slap me, hit me back, push me away, so I knew what it felt like. I wanted her to get angry with me and even ignore me, just so I could prove to her how sorry I was and how much I loved her. I wanted the challenge, just so she could see how hard I would fight for her, just so she could see that I wouldn’t buckle down in my own weakness.

I kept my head down, though, when we walked up to the apartment. Mike trailed behind me, and I was kicking myself for doing this. I would much rather be getting to know my brother again than dealing with this shit—although, these were the consequences of my actions. I had to pay the price.

Tony opened the door with his key, and I walked slowly inside. The small apartment felt even smaller because of the amount of people in it—Mike, Tony, Alyssa, Jaime, and me.

“Thank God,” I heard someone breathe—Alyssa. Before I could say anything, she collided into me. I fought the urge to push her away and ask her what she was doing—as much as I wanted to prove myself to her, I didn’t really want to let her go. Now that she was against me, I was relaxed. I didn’t want her to leave me or ignore me. I wouldn’t be angry if she backed away and slapped me across the face—I definitely deserved it—but I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t deserve her, or the way her heart was beating on my chest, her eyelashes brushing against my neck where her head was buried, her arms clasped tightly around my back.

“I’m sorry,” I said as meaningful as possible into her ear. I hoped she could hear it in my voice how much I meant it, although those words—I’m sorry—were such shallow words. I needed to show her how sorry I was, but I didn’t know how. “I love you,” I mumbled even lower.

“I’m fine. It’s okay. I love you too. So much. I’m just relieved you’re not hurt,” she whimpered.

I pulled away from her carefully—making sure it didn’t seem like I was pushing her away. I was now incredibly sensitive to my movements around her. I didn’t want to touch her in the wrong way.

“I needed air,” I said. “I needed to get out of there. I was out of control, Lissy. I’m so sorry I hurt you,” I said softly. I reached out and brushed my thumb across her cheek, expecting her to flinch and surprised when she didn’t. “Aren’t you afraid of me?” I asked quietly.

“No,” she said. “I know you didn’t mean it. Why? Do you want me to be?”

“No,” I mumbled. “I don’t want you to forgive me that easily, though. What I did was horrific,” I said, averting my eyes from hers.

“But I know you didn’t want to,” she said.

“But I did anyway. Don’t you see, Alyssa? I didn’t want to hurt you but I did anyway. It could have been so much worse. What if I had accidentally hurt you with the knife? This could happen again one day, it could be so much worse. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to control my emotions. When I get all amped like that, I can’t stop, and I—”

“Stop trying to convince me to be angry at you, Vic,” she cut me off. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to be angry at you. It was fucking scary Vic but it’s also very fixable,” she snipped. She turned around and I watched as she huffed to the kitchen, returning with my pills and a glass of water.

“Fuck,” I dragged out the word and briefly closed my eyes.

“Here,” she said. I accepted them and took them quickly. I stared at Mike the entire time—they had all retired to another room, letting Alyssa and I work it out. But I saw Mike looking at me, too. As I swallowed my pills, I silently begged him not to leave once the pills took their effect. Once they dissolved into my blood and really calmed me down.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Alyssa said softly, running her fingers up and down my arm. I shifted my gaze to hers and almost melted right then and there. “And as much as you protest or try to convince me otherwise, as much as you try and argue and say that you aren’t safe for me, I’m not going anywhere, either.”

Notes

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