My Angel
Chapter 2
By: Bella
There were many other girls backstage anxiously waiting to meet the bands. I, however, was anxiously waiting to leave so that I could get some sleep. It was late and I was tired. I'm a girl who needs my sleep. Not that I think meeting famous people is no big deal, because really I do know it's a big deal to many people… I just would rather sleep. Uncomfortable around the many unfamiliar people, I examined the walls and played with my hands. People had written interesting messages all over the walls. "Groupies with small tits unacceptable," "I like cheese," and "Arby's is the shit" were just a few that I saw. Amused, I couldn't help but smile a little. That was, until my eyes came across a familiar looking face. The face smiled back, which made me become embarrassed and I felt the smile quickly fade. He walked up to me, and I swear I could hear my cousin screaming inside.
"Hey! What are you doing here?" he asked. I was pretty sure it was him. Even though it was hard to tell because he did have a baseball cap and sunglasses on earlier, the mole and the smile were unmistakable. And then it sunk in. I had met the singer of Good Charlotte and hadn't even realized it. Becky would kill me tonight.
"Hi. I'm here with my cousin, Becky, apparently she's a big fan of your band," I said, introducing her. "I didn't know you were in this band!"
"Yeah, c'mere and I'll introduce you to the rest of the guys," he said, nodding his head toward some other people on the opposite end of the room. He led the way, and Becky stared at me with wide eyes as we followed him. I laughed and shook my head at her.
"This is my brother, Benji," he said, introducing us. "He plays the guitar."
Benji looked at Joel funny. I wasn't sure why, but later realized that it was because he figured that since two girls wearing "Made" and "Level 27" clothing were at their concert, they would probably know all about the band. In our case, however, only one-half of us knew all about the band.
"This is Billy, he also plays the guitar. That's Chris, he plays the drums. And over there, that's Paul. He plays the bass," he explained.
"Sweet," I said in response. It was all I could come up with. I glanced over at my cousin, who just stood next to me with a stupid smile on her face. I was a little embarrassed for her. And, well, myself for being with her.
"Well, uh, good show. I enjoyed myself," I said, feeling awkward as usual and looking down.
"Thanks, I'm glad you liked it," Joel said back. By now, the rest of the band had moved on to more interesting people.
"Uh yeah… so, you're the singer, right?" I asked, trying desperately to keep his attention. Never had I been in this type of situation before. Usually people were the ones reaching out to me and trying to keep my attention with little success. It was an odd place to be, on the other side of things. I just knew that he'd do to me what I had done to others for so long. Reject my attempt at a friendly conversation. I never once recall doing this out of meaness. It was simply too painful for me to accept their friendliness.
"Yeah, that would be me," he replied with a nod and then taking a sip of water from the bottle he held in his hand. "I like your shirt."
I laughed. Becky had told me that it was his clothing company already. "Thanks. I might have to steal this one from Becky. It's pretty spiffy."
"I did not just say spiffy, I did not just say spiffy," I repeated over and over to myself in my head. I put my elbow out to nudge Becky but realized that there was no one there. I frantically looked around for her. Joel noticed she was gone and that I was looking for her and began looking as well.
"Isn't that your friend over there?" he asked, pointing to Becky and a tall man in a "staff" shirt making out in the corner of the room.
"Holy shit," I said. "She moves fast."
Joel laughed. "Go James!"
Some girls started to come over and attempt to get Joel's attention. I kindly stepped back a little as he began signing things and chatting with them. Feeling ready to go home, I glanced over to where Becky had been a few moments earlier and sure enough she was still there making out with the same mystery man that apparently went by the name "James." A little annoyed and grossed out, I decided to call her cell phone and interupt. Unfortunately, she ignored it. Reluctantly, I sat down on the ground up against the wall and waited as patiently as I could. She finally found me once she had finished and introduced me to her new "friend." Sensing that I was tired and cranky, she was kind enough to suggest that we go home. I gladly agreed.
---
The next day I woke up on the couch in Becky's large room. I had stayed over at her house the previous night and, not to my surprise, she was already out of bed. Realizing that I had slept in the clothes that I had worn the day before because I had been too exhausted to change by the time we got back to her house, I went through her drawers and found some black sweatpants and a black tank top. I grabbed my purse and went into the bathroom down the hall. Taking off my shirt I examined my stomach in the mirror. It was always scratched and scabbed. I loved to rub my hand across it and feel the wounds.
I reached into my purse and retrieved the small and jagged piece of glass that I kept hidden in it. I made a few more marks, rubbed a little cold water on my stomach to sooth the stinging, and put the tank top on. I don't remember exactly when I began cutting. It was around the time I was put on anti-depressants for the first time. I was 16 and had gained 20 pounds in just a few months. Cutting was the only thing that made me feel good about myself. Cutting was the only thing that made me feel anything at all. It looked beautiful to me. I loved to slowly slice my skin and watch the blood come to the surface and eventually drip out. I didn't do it too messily. Just enough to see the blood and feel the sting. I had since lost the extra pounds that I had put on when I began, but I still liked to do it. It had become comfortable to me. I felt it was like masturbation is to most people. Some people get that feeling and can't wait to find a secluded place and take care of business. When I got the feeling, I couldn't wait to find a secluded place and cut myself. My stomach was usually the only place I cut because it could be hidden.
Of course, I'm not good at hiding things. One morning when my mom came in to wake me up she noticed blood on my shirt. She lifted it up, which woke me, and cried. My parents made sure that I stopped for about a year. They would check my stomach every day and got rid of almost every sharp object in the house, hiding from me the ones that they needed. I had to shave with an electric razor, ask for permission to cut my toe nails, drink from plastic or paper cups… the works. But once I got them to trust me again and slack off, I started back up. It didn't feel wrong to me. The fact that they had made it a forbidden act wasn't what made it so appealing. It was simply the fact that it was something that I had an urge to do and felt it was no one else's business what I did with my body anyway. From now on I would just have to wear black shirts after I cut.
When I was done dressing I went into the kitchen where Becky and my aunt Diane were reading the newspaper.
"Morning," I said, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and retrieving the orange juice from the refridgerator. I was comfortable doing just about anything at their house. Becky and I spent so much time at each others' places that we both felt like we had two homes. It was nice.
"Good morning, Mari," my aunt said looking up from her paper. "I made eggs and toast earlier if you're hungry."
"Yum," I said, making my way over to the pan on the stove to get some eggs. I loved breakfast at my aunt's house.
"You still wanna visit uncle Evan today?" I asked my cousin. Our uncle had a heart attack the day before and we had made plans to visit him in the hospital that day since most of the rest of the family had been with him while we were at the concert. He was doing better but still wasn't expected to be released for a few more days.
"Yeah, I'm pretty much ready whenever you are. I just have to do my hair," she said.
"Ok, I'll get ready after I'm done eating," I replied, downing the rest of my breakfast.
---
A few hours later while we were in our uncle's hospital room talking with him and our second cousin who was there as well, I got thirsty.
"Hey Beck, I'm gonna go grab something in the cafeteria real quick. You want anything?" I asked her.
"Nah, I'm good," she replied. With that I headed out. I got a soda and bag of chips, paid, and pushed the button on the elevator to go up to the correct floor. Before I could get there, however, the elevator stopped to let someone else on. As the doors opened I was surprised to see a face that was becoming quite familiar.
"Hey Joel," I said nervously when I saw him. He was the only one getting onto the elevator.
"Hey… sorry, I don't think I ever got your name," he said, also seeming surprised to see me.
"Mari," I said.
"What are you doing here? I've run into you almost every where I've gone in the past 24 hours!"
"Oh you know, just following you around and stuff," I joked. "No, I'm visiting my uncle. What are you doing here?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly the elevator jerked and stopped.