You're Not Worthless Read online

  I try to take deep breaths but the pain in my chest is only getting worse; I’m having an anxiety attack. I let out a moan but it’s quickly cut off, and only air comes out. I hunch over, so that my chest is resting against my knees. I slowly rock back and forth and it seems to comfort me.

  I hope she dies...

  “What are you doing?”

  I sit up, startled. Lucas is standing in front of me, anger burning in his eyes. He’s out of breath. He probably drove 30 miles over the speed limit and then sprinted through the house at full speed to get to me.

  “Kalani, give it to me,” Lucas says.

  I shake my head, another sob racking my body forward.

  “No, Lucas,” I say, but I can barely speak through the tears. “I’m so tired! I’m so tired, I just want to be done!”

  Lucas shakes his head. He’s trying to remain calm, but I can tell that he’s terrified.

  “Please,” he says, his voice shaking. “Please don’t do this. Don’t end your life! That is a very permanent decision that you won’t be able to take back!”

  I nod. “That’s why I’m doing it.” I lift the gun to my head. Lucas screams, and with two quick strides across the room, he lunges for me.

  Suddenly I’m on the floor. The gun is no longer in my hand. I try to take deep breaths, because the tackle knocked the wind out of me.

  I sit up, my eyes searching for the gun. Lucas is standing up in front of me; he’s looking for it, too.

  I spot a glint of silver, and my eyes settle on the gun. It’s sitting half under my bed, but the handle is sticking out.

  Lucas must see it at the same time that I do, because we both lunge for it. My hands wrap around the handle, but Lucas’s hands are around my waist, trying to pull me away from it.

  “NO!” I shout. My voice is tight and weak and broken. I let out another sob.

  “Don’t touch it!” Lucas shouts. “Please!”

  I struggle against him, still trying to get a good grip on the handle. I spin my body around so that I’m sitting up on my butt. I don’t know how I broke free from Lucas’s grip.

  We stare at each other for a moment. Lucas’s eyes shift to the gun in my hand.

  “I’m sorry, Lucas,” I say, my voice weak.

  I lift the gun up to my temple. Lucas’s eyes widen.

  “Kalani, NO!”

  He lunges for me, but it’s too late...

  The gun goes off...

  And everything goes black...

  * * *

  I remember once, when I was ten years old, my dad and I used to go to this lake a couple of hours away from our house. The lake was hidden; nobody else knew about it. I guess we weren’t supposed to know about it either. We just sort of found it one day, hiking through the woods. Before my dad got promoted to the CEO of the biggest bank in town, before we were unnecessarily rich, my dad loved to go hiking. It used to be our thing; we would go hiking in some remote spot, hours away from our house.

  We would find a spot to sit down and enjoy whatever view we’d come to find. One day, my dad found out about a hiking spot up in the mountains. Apparently, it came to be this new hot spot for outdoorsy people. Naturally, my dad wanted to go see what all the fuss was about. So, we drove for three hours, through town and through the mountains. We hiked for a while, but then I started to get tired.

  We tried to turn back, but we accidentally strayed from the path. We got lost trying to find our way back, and we were about to turn around and try to go a different way, when we stumbled upon this lake. It was beautiful. The water was crystal clear, and you could see these pretty stones that were lining the bottom of the lake. The grass was greener here than it was where we were walking earlier.

  It looked like a picture pulled right out from a dream. It didn’t feel real; it was too beautiful to be real. We sat on a bench by this beautiful, crystal clear lake for hours. When the sun finally began to set, we turned around and eventually found our way back to our car. My dad and I went up to that lake every summer for three years. After that, my dad got promoted and had to start working longer, grueling hours, so we stopped going up to that lake. I haven’t been up there in four years.

  But I’m there now. Sitting by the water, looking at the stones. And I feel like I’m at peace. This is where I want to be. For the rest of whatever comes next.

  Fifteen

  It starts out as a buzz. Buzzing, all inside my head-particularly on the left side. Then it starts to grow, until all I can hear is ringing. Then it feels like my head is on fire. I struggle to open my eyes. At first everything is blurry, and it makes me feel dizzy. When things finally come into focus, I realize that I have a tremendous headache. Wherever I am, the walls are light brown-tan. There’s a picture of a bowl of fruit, hanging on the wall to my right, and I can hear beeping-like a machine.

  I try to turn my head to the left, which sends shooting pain all throughout my head.

  “Mom...” I say, but it’s only a croak. She’s sitting in the chair closest to me, and my dad is sitting next to her. Their hands are clenched together so tight that both of their knuckles are starting to turn white.

  My mom turns her head. Her eyes are glossy, and I can see streaks from tears lining her cheeks. My mom doesn’t say anything. She just stands, and sits on the side of my bed. We stare at each other for a moment, before my mom finally lets a tear fall. I haven’t seen my mom cry in a long, long time. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry.

  My mom laces her fingers with mine, and pats our joined hands with her other hand. “Mama-” I begin, but she shakes her head.

  “Shhh, baby,” she says. “We don’t have to talk right now. We can just be together.” I nod, but that hurts my head. My dad is staring at me. There’s sadness in his eyes.

  Caden and Skylar are sitting in the corner by the door. They’re both crying. Mia and Amelia are standing in the other corner, also crying. That’s when I realize how badly I scared everyone. I didn’t think about the consequences of what I was going to do. I didn’t think about the aftermath, or who would have to deal with it.

  I was only thinking about myself, and what I wanted. The door to my room opens, and everybody sitting stands up. Well, everybody but me. A man walks through the door. He has light brown skin and light brown eyes. His hair is dark black, and he’s wearing a white coat, so I assume he’s my doctor.

  “Hello,” the doctor says. “My name is Dr. Martinez.”

  I try to smile at him but for some reason I feel too weak to do so. Dr. Martinez goes on to shake hands with my mom and dad.

  “How are you feeling?” The doctor asks.

  I shrug, which makes me want to pass out.

  “My head hurts.” My words are sluggish, though I’m not sure why; I mean, I’m trying to pronounce my words as best I can. It’s just... Not working.

  “I imagine it would,” He says. “You’re very lucky to be alive, Kalani.” He turns to my parents and begins explaining.

  “The bullet did not reach past her scalp; it only grazed the left side of her head. If it had gone past the scalp, I don’t think we would have been able to save her.” My mom and dad clutch hands again, trying not to cry.

  He continues. “The bullet only grazed her scalp, so the other surgeons and I were able to go in, and fix what needed to be fixed. You’re going to have some stitches on the left side of your head for about a month,” Dr. Martinez says, looking at me. “Don’t worry, they can easily be covered up by your hair,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Young, can I speak to you privately, now?” He asks. My mom and dad look at each other, then at me.

  They both stand, and follow the doctor out into the hallway.

  They don’t close the door, so I can hear some of what they’re saying, but not all of it: “Miracle... Alive... Therapy... Counseling... Three weeks...” That’s all I get before my mom and dad reenter the room.

  “Okay,” my mom says with a tired sigh. “The doctor recomme
nded that you stay here for a couple of weeks, so that they can make sure everything is fine, and that you heal properly.”

  I nod, but I don’t say anything.

  “He also recommended a group therapy meeting that meets every Saturday in the morning,” she adds. “And he gave me a number for a therapist, who you will meet with, once a week, too.”

  A tear slips down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away.

  “We’re gonna get you some help, okay?” She says, her voice shaking.

  Being awake for this long has drained me; I know it’s only been ten minutes, but I’m exhausted. I close my eyes, and try to get some rest. I can feel everyone’s eyes all over me, studying me. It’s not long before my body finally gives in and sleep takes me.

  * * *

  If there’s one thing that I’ve learned from all of this, it’s that being injured is truly exhausting. It’s been three days since I woke up in the hospital. Lucas told me what happened that day: apparently my post scared the people at my school. People were commenting on the status, asking me to think about what I was trying to do, and asking if I was being serious.

  Lucas’s phone started blowing up. He said that kids were texting and messaging him like crazy. That’s when he found the status. He drove to my house-at 65 miles an hour. He texted and called every person in my family, including me. He said that he was begging my family to get home and see if I was okay. My family obliged. They all left what they were doing as soon as they got the calls. Lucas said that he couldn’t find me at first. He knows about the gun in the house, so he went to my parents’ bedroom first. He found the safe open, and the gun missing.

  That’s when he found me; we fought over the gun, and just before the shot went off, he lunged for me. He said that if he hadn't tackled me, the bullet would have gone straight into my head-instead of just skimming it. Lucas had already called the police just in case he was going to be too late. An ambulance was at my house within a minute of the shot going off.

  My parents arrived within five minutes of the ambulance getting there. They raced to my bedroom, and found Lucas curled up in a ball in the corner of my room, sobbing. Amelia and Mia picked up Caden and Skylar and drove to the house. When my sisters saw me-unconscious-with the paramedics, they took Caden and Skylar out of the room before they could see anything and tried to keep them calm.

  When the paramedics were wheeling me out of the house, Caden ran for me. Caden saw my head and started sobbing. It could have been so much worse if Lucas had not been there. He called my entire family-and the police-before he had even gotten to me. If he hadn’t had called them before the shot went off, I’m positive the paramedics wouldn’t have gotten to me in time. If Lucas hadn’t had tackled me to the floor just before the shot went off, it wouldn’t have just been a graze to my scalp. That bullet would have gone straight through my head; it would have blown my brains out.

  I am lucky to be alive.

  “How’s your hand?” I ask when Lucas is finished talking.

  He stares at the white fabric wrapped around his hand. Lucas risked a lot when he tackled me. The bullet could have hit him instead of me. I’m not sure how, but the recoil from the shot burned his hand. It all happened so fast. Luckily, the burn was not severe so they were able to give him painkillers, and wrap him up.

  “It’s nothing compared to what happened to you,” he says.

  I look down at my fumbling fingers. I still don’t know how I feel about what happened. I could have killed myself-and Lucas in the process. I don’t know what I would do if he was to be seriously hurt.

  “Kalani,” Lucas begins. “I know that a lot of people are going to try and tell you that what you tried to do wasn’t your fault...Or that what happened wasn’t a bad thing...”

  I look up at him, confused.

  “Kalani, what you did was not okay.”

  “I know.”

  “No, you don’t,” Lucas says. “Or else you wouldn’t have done it. You need to get help-real help. Killing yourself is not the solution to your problems, and anybody who says that it was some sort of beautiful tragedy is wrong! I’m so mad it’s not even funny!” He raises his voice, and I flinch.

  “You have to start thinking about your actions, and the consequences they have. You could have thrown everything away, Kalani!”

  “I didn’t feel like I had anything anyways!” I shout back. “I wasn’t throwing anything away!”

  “What about me?” Lucas asks, his voice shaking. “Am I seriously nothing​ ​to you? I have been there for you this entire time, and you have the audacity to tell me that you had nothing?”

  “I wasn’t happy anymore!” I shout. “What was I supposed to do?”

  “You were supposed to tell someone, Kalani!” Lucas shouts. “You weren’t supposed to just throw your life away!”

  We stare at each other for a moment, a silence falling over us.

  “I’ve...” Lucas stumbles. He’s staring at the floor, or at the wall, or everywhere but me.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you asked me, a couple of months ago. Do you remember?” He asks me.

  I shake my head.

  “You asked me if I felt like... The life I’m living is worth ​ ​living anymore...”

  I nod because I do remember asking him that question. I also remember not believing his response.

  Lucas was sitting in the chair closest to my bed, but he stands from the chair and sits on the side of my bed. He grabs my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. I stare at our joined hands.

  “I think I know the answer to that question,” he says. “I think that no matter how hard our life may seem; we can’t just give it up. I think that we have to keep fighting, so that we can make our lives better. Humans-not individually-but as a whole, have a bad habit of giving up,” Lucas explains. “Something gets too hard, and we stop trying. We figure that maybe it wasn’t meant to be. So, we give up.”

  I’m still staring at our hands when a tear slips down my cheek.

  “I think you felt the same way about your life, Kalani,” Lucas says. “Something bad happened to you-something I honestly can’t say that I can understand. But just because something bad happens to you... Doesn’t mean you should just throw your whole life away.

  Our lives are worth​ living, Kalani,” Lucas squeezes my hand, so I look up at him. A seriousness lies behind his eyes.

  “It doesn’t matter what happens, or how hard things may get, our lives are still worth

  living.”

  Another tear slips down my cheek, but I don’t say anything.

  “I don’t want you to give up again,” Lucas says. “And I’m sorry that you felt the need to give up in the first place... But please... Kalani, please keep fighting!” Lucas is insistent.

  “Your life is worth living! You are not ​​worthless. You never have been and you never will be. So please... Don’t do this to yourself anymore-” He gestures to the cuts on my arms to prove his point.

  “Don’t do this to yourself, because you are worth so much more than this-​ ​” Then he gestures to the room, emphasizing the suicide attempt.

  “You’re my best friend Kalani,” Lucas says. “And you deserve so much more than what you’ve done to yourself... You deserve to be alive. You deserve to live​ ​.”

  “You’re my best friend, too,” I say, but my voice feels weak.

  Lucas doesn’t say anything after that. We just stare at each other, our fingers laced together, and we sit like that for a long time.

  I keep thinking about what Lucas said to me. I say it in my head, over and over, like a chant.

  Your life is worth living.

  You are not worthless.

  You deserve to be alive.

  I wish I could believe it, the way he does.

  Sixteen

  My mom and dad brought back clothes, because if I’m going to be here for at least a week and a half, I’m going to be comfortable. The only problem is, I’m pretty much bed ri
dden for two more days. My doctors are concerned about the head injury, so they want to take precautions. Basically, they’re afraid that I’m going to fall down. Lucas has come by every single day after school since I’ve been in the hospital. So far, he’s brought me some of my favorite books and movies so that I’m not completely bored out of my mind, and he’s brought me Taco Bell three times (my favorite), and chicken noodle soup for lunch.

  “The doctor said that after I’m released from the hospital I have to be put on different medications,” I say. Lucas is sitting on the bed next to me. I let him pick out a new movie-one that he likes-because I’m sure he’s sick of watching Titanic​ ​over and over.

  “What kind of medication?” Lucas asks. He hasn’t looked at me since he put the movie on. I don’t even know what movie it is; I just know that things haven’t stopped exploding since he turned it on.

  “Antidepressants,” I say.

  “I think that’ll be good for you,” Lucas says. He continues to stare at the TV. I’m not sure he’s fully listening to what I’m saying.

  “Where’s your family, anyways?” Lucas asks.

  “Caden, Skylar, and Amelia are at school,” I say. “Mia is at work, and my parents are out getting me lunch.”

  Lucas finally looks at me. “Do you wish everyone was here?”

  “The world doesn’t revolve around me,” I say. “My family has obligations. The world doesn’t stop because I try to kill myself.” The term ‘kill myself’ seems to hang in the air.

  Lucas moves his gaze to somewhere in the general right direction. I can’t tell what he’s looking at. Then I realize that he’s probably not looking at anything. He’s probably not even here​.

  He’s probably back at my house, wrestling me for the gun...

  “Hey,” I say, nudging his shoulder. “Where did you go?”

  “I thought you were gonna die...” Lucas says. His voice trailing off.

  For a while I don’t say anything, because the truth is, I don’t know what to say. It’s not like I can tell him that everything is going to be okay, because it’s not like last time, when someone else put me in the hospital. I ​ ​put myself ​​in the hospital. I did this to myself. No, I can’t tell him that everything is going to be okay; because I don’t know if everything will ​​be okay.