He thinks I haven’t noticed. He thinks none of us have.
He couldn’t be further from the truth if he tried.
How could we not have noticed?
Not noticed the rings forming under his eyes. Not noticed that he was losing so much weight. Not noticed that he was fading in front of us.
We’ve all noticed. And not one of us knows what the hell to do about it.
How do you stop someone you love when they seem hell bent on self destruction? Because I do love him. Even if it’s not in the way he wants. He thinks I don’t know about that.
He thinks I see him as just a poor substitute for Alex. I can see it in his eyes. He’s wrong. He’s so much more than that.
I love Kyle James Valenti as a friend because he’s Kyle. And I know him so well.
I know how lonely he is. How he thinks he was the biggest mistake of his parents lives. How he almost desperately tries to make up for it. Tries to make his Dad proud.
He doesn’t have to try. The Sheriff has always been proud of him and will always love him. He just has a few problems showing it.
I know he’s kind and gentle and funny. I know he can make me laugh when all I want to do is cry. I know he can be arrogant and brash and obnoxious but I also know he can be sweet and sensitive. I know he’s definitely intelligent in his own way but doesn’t really believe in himself. I know he hates to see anything hurt.
Like when he was twelve and his Dad took him hunting. The Sheriff… Jim… whatever the hell we’re supposed to call him now… shot a deer. Kyle saw him do it and spent the next hour throwing up. He thinks I don’t know about that either.
I know he loves to read. I know he has nightmares about Alex’s death even though he tries to hide them from the rest of us. I know he misses his Mom.
I know he’s spent most of his life trying to be what other people want him to be. I know that he tries very hard to stop the world seeing who he really is. I know just how insecure he can be.
And I want him to be happy. I want him to smile and for it to actually reach his eyes again. I want to feel like he’s not just going through the motions of life for my benefit but is actually living. And I don’t know how to help.
He’s walking to the bathroom and he’s got that lost look in his eyes again.
“Where’re you going Kyle?”
Shit. I can hear the accusation in my voice even though I don’t mean it to be there and I know I’m looking suspiciously at him.
He stammers out something about needing to use the toilet.
He always has been a terrible liar.
He’s almost shaking as he stands there, looking older and more tired than anyone of eighteen should look. I wonder if he knows how much he’s scaring me.
He makes some lame excuse and bolts for the bathroom.
I’m sure he’ll lock it behind him this time.
* * * * * * * * * *
We try to talk but we all keep looking towards the bathroom.
I look at Liz and see the sadness in her eyes. She knows.
“He’s been in there too long,” she says quietly, her voice laced with concern.
“I’ll go check,” I say.
Suddenly I’m standing outside another bathroom door asking if he’s ok and knowing full well that he’s not.
He doesn’t answer but I can hear him. He’s alternating between sobbing and heaving and I don’t even know if he can hear me. I knock a little louder.
Still no answer.
I’m pounding on the door demanding to be let in. Shit Kyle do you have any idea how much you’re scaring me right now?
Finally I give up and use my powers to undo the lock. I should’ve just done that in the first place.
He’s lying on the floor. If he wasn’t soaked in blood I could almost believe that he was just sleeping. There’s so much red everywhere.
I’m screaming for Max.
I can’t lose another friend.
My brother kneels down and uses his healing powers on the cuts on my best friend’s arms. But I know he can’t heal what’s going on inside Kyle. Can’t heal the real wound.
The funny thing is that I still think this is just an accident. That he just cut a bit too deeply this time. If he’d really been trying suicide I think he’d have planned it a bit more.
The end result’s the same though. He’s so depressed and screwed up that he’s nearly killed himself whether he meant to or not.
What the hell do we do now?
* * * * * * * * * *
He’s sleeping.
He looks so young and innocent when he sleeps. Almost like an angel with those long eyelashes brushing his cheeks.
I almost laugh at the thought of his reaction to me saying he looks like an angel. The look of horror at being described as anything that girly followed by the witty comeback.
But I don’t laugh. I’m crying. Tears rolling down my cheeks as I think about what my friend is doing to himself. What he’s doing to all of us.
I wonder how long he’s been this way. Was he always this depressed? Am I just now noticing it?
And I wonder when the last time was that he wasn’t hurting. Wasn’t bleeding inside. And I’m crying harder now.
Crying for my friends in the other room.
Crying for our parents who are hundreds of miles away and don’t know if we’re alive or dead.
Crying for Alex who never got the chance at life he should have had.
Crying for Jessie who I might never see again.
Crying for my best friend and for the fact that I didn’t look after him better.
Crying for myself.
I look at him and see that he’s awake and watching me. He’s telling me how sorry he is. And his eyes are full of pain. Full of sorrow.
At least they’re not empty anymore. Not lost. Not dead. Not soulless.
He’s crying with me. Resting his head in my lap.
And somehow I know that we’ll work everything out. We’ll find a way to help him.
I won’t lose another friend.
** End **
