Bethany Lopez

(first two chapters)

Chapter 1

Nine months ago I stood under the full moon. 

“Thank you for being so beautiful.” I thought looking up, straining my neck, unable to look away as its light burned into my eyes as bright as the sun. 

It was 2:30 am and the cicadas had long since fallen quiet. Even the chirping of crickets came sporadically before being swallowed up by the night. 

A humid dew began to form on the long ribbons of river grass. I breathed in the wet summer night deep down into my lungs filling them to capacity.

“Laney! Come on!” I turned to see Eleanor waiving so vigorously I feared she would sprain her wrist. 

Kate sat at the steering wheel of her grey ’94 Dodge Shadow, and eased the key slowly in the ignition. Her face twisted in concentration as if she could will the engine to start silently. 

Eleanor dove into the backseat and fell to the floor hiding when the car started. Kate looked in the rearview mirror towards her family’s summer house. All the windows remained dark, her parents still asleep.

“Get in!” she whispered to me. I calmly slipped into my rightful place at shotgun. I had no fear. Not tonight. Not any night anymore. 

I had told Kate’s mother, Elizabeth, what we were up to tonight. I couldn’t stand the thought of upsetting her if she came into our rooms to find empty beds in the middle of the night. Not after everything she was going through.  

Elizabeth would be dead six months from this night. 

“Who knew dying could be so time consuming?” she said breezily one afternoon as we swung on the back porch of the river house watching as hundreds of tubers laughed and splashed each other in the stifling summer heat. 

“All the good-bye parties and the paperwork – don’t even get me started on the paperwork.” I sipped my lemonade looking straight ahead unsure of how to react. “Woo-hoo, Laney.” She waved a hand in front of my face. “I thought if anyone would appreciate dying humor it would be you.” I gave her a halfhearted smile. “Not you too! You were my last hold out. I command you to laugh at my horrible jokes!” 

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

She playfully shoved me, and I couldn’t hold in the genuine laugher anymore. She took a deep breath. 

“So many last conversations to have. Every time I think I’ve told someone everything I ever wanted to say to them I remember something else. I’m probably going to go without telling the world all of my secrets.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” 

She shrugged and tilted her head in thought. 

“Maybe not.”

Kate released the emergency break and we coasted down the drive and onto the road. Beside her I clapped with glee. Behind me I felt every muscle in Eleanor’s body tense up.  

A distant voice whispered that I should be afraid. Three girls alone in the middle of the night on a twisting Hill Country road that stretched wild and cloaked before us.  Any number of unspeakable tragedies could befall us tonight. Ax murderers and rabid animals, they all lived in the depths, hungry for young and foolish flesh. But this voice isn’t strong enough, not anymore. This voice used to always win, it made me scared of the world, scared of taking chances. Stay inside the lines, Laney. Never go too fast, Laney. Look both ways before crossing the street, Laney. Tonight this voice would lose. It was no match for what raged inside me now. 

My heart pounded exhilarated against my ribcage. An effortless smile spread across my face. 

Smile Laney.  I’ve heard this command my whole life, so hollow and pointless. I decided early on in life that I rather look sincerely sad then insincerely happy. 

I wished I could tell Eleanor that everything was ok. That I’d blown our cover and the adults knew about the shenanigans we were getting ourselves into. But, I couldn’t take away this little rebellion of Kate’s. 

 “There is absolutely nothing extraordinary about my mother.” Kate announced nonchalantly one day after school at play practice. 

We were rehearsing Auntie Mame, and our general lack of a glamorous mother figure was fresh in all our minds. 

“She’s seriously a feminist’s cautionary tale.” Eleanor and I exchanged glances. We were used to Kate being down on Elizabeth. Though I did have a sneaking suspicion that Auntie Mame herself couldn’t live up to Kate’s high standards. 

Kate Andres was beautiful. She looked like a Texas pageant queen without all the hairspray and fake eyelashes. But because of her father, she was tough and athletic. The type of girl that could make all girls feel like just giving up. She had the tendency to be cold and detached though. The kind of ice queen act that the opposite sex found irresistible. 

Kate had big dreams in this big world. A world that Elizabeth just didn’t make sense in. 

Elizabeth still wore slips under dresses and skirts paired with pantyhose. She told Kate to sit like a lady, and left her little post it notes on her bathroom mirror reminding her of these all important womanly duties. The notes used to be more ambitious like Remember to have good posture or When you act like a lady you’ll feel more beautiful. Now they’ve just regressed into Please brush your hair. 

I loved Elizabeth. I made it my mission to shower her with all the love that Kate withheld. It wasn’t difficult. To me Elizabeth was one of a kind. An inspiration instead of a cautionary tale. It was amazing to me that someone can still be so good in this shitty world. 

Her reminders to Kate about Southern lady-hood were half hearted at best and done mostly out of duty to all the Southern ladies that came before her. I’m still unsure if she really meant half of what she said. When I’d ask her why she cared so much about all of this she’d just say, “I don’t know. I’m southern. It’s what we’re supposed to do!” And that settled it. 

I caught her smiling once behind Kate’s back as she pleaded her case to her father, Simon, about the injustice of pantyhose in the summertime. Elizabeth and I giggled when Kate’s whines echoed through the house. I doubt Kate ever knew what a kick Elizabeth got out of torturing her. 

Down the road we continued. I watched the moon watching me through the windshield. The moonbeams captivated me. I stood up and hung out the car letting it’s light wash over me. 

My first word was moon. Well “Moon, luna, ball.” In slow careful secession. That’s how the famous family story goes. My mother probably collapsed, stricken with a case of adorable. My father probably beamed with pride. That was probably the last time I felt they both cared. I think my parents had a kid because it was the thing to do. It’s what people their age were doing at the time. Getting the house, having the kids and all that stuff. Not because that’s what they particularly wanted or anything. It’s what they were told they should want. There’s a part of me that feels sorry for them. That they bought into the lie. I just wish I wasn’t a part of the great deception.  

The moon felt like my guardian. My one true protector. My influence. Memories and images revolve around it. What phase it was in. If it played peek-a-boo in a cloudy haunted sky. Tonight it’s out in all its glory. Deeming porch lights unnecessary. Demanding the world glow from within. 

I craned my neck and let out a howl, the wind attempting and failing to steal my voice. Kate laughed. Eleanor grabbed my leg trying to coax me back inside the car. I ignored them both. Neither of them mattered. The only thing that mattered was the moon, and this feeling. Why does life eventually take away the magic of everything? 

The thoughts come fast and furious now. Unwavering, each one accelerating faster than the last. I think I started to breathe again after holding my breath depriving myself of oxygen. Paths stretched before me infinite and beautiful. I reached out for the canopy of branches rushing by. I could have stayed forever caught in this moment of impending something. 

I blew a kiss to the moon and swung back into shotgun. 

“Nice.” Kate said flatly. I shrugged and picked up a bag of pretzels off the floor. I popped one into my mouth and it’s undeniably the best pretzel I’ve ever had. I spun backwards in my seat with my back against the glove box and offered the bag to Eleanor. She took it her eyes darting from side to side. She looked behind her expecting the highway patrol to be tailing us. 

“It’s ok El. I promise.” I reached out and pat her head. I love her. Why is Eleanor the best ever? On the surface you could take her as nothing but another mousy goody goody who is afraid of her own shadow and cares about nothing other than grades and getting into a good college, but she is so much more than that. She’s Eleanor the Brave. Eleanor the Sure. Eleanor the Proud to Have Never Been Kissed (because no one in our school is good enough for her.) Unlike me who settled for any loser who got her wasted enough. 

“So what do you guys think? Think we’ll get lucky?”

“If you mean lucky like will we see a ghost?” Kate held out her hand not taking her eyes from the road as I poured some pretzels into her waiting palm. “Jury’s out.” Kate said right before she stuffed the handful of pretzels into her mouth. 

This awakened Eleanor sidelining her fear. 

“Oh come on. Really? Jury’s out? You can’t honestly believe in ghosts, Kate.” 

“Why not?” I challenged. 

“Because there is no such thing as ghosts. There is no such thing as life after death. You die and that’s it. End of story. End of everything. End of you.” She instantly realized what she has said and heavy silence fell over the car smothering us all. That’s one of the consequences of being Eleanor the Sure. Hurting your friends with your certainty in a lack of heaven. The pain in my chest grew till it was a lump in my throat. I glanced sideways at Kate trying not to be too obvious. I see her knuckles tighten around the steering wheel and she tossed a few stray strands of long blonde hair with a jerk of her head. 

“We’re almost there I think.” is all she said. I spun right ways in my seat and our three faces stared out into the void. 

We were twelve when Kate’s father, Simon, first told us the story of the haunted bridge. It was typical lore. A jilted woman, pregnant by a lover not her husband throws herself off the bridge one night and drowns in the river below. She walks the banks looking sometimes for her unborn baby, sometimes for her lover, always for peace. 

Simon is a master storyteller, and he told us that story the first time Kate’s parents brought me and Eleanor out to the river. It was nearly impossible not to have a little crush on Simon. Yes, he was my best friend’s father, but you could still see a little bit of what made him the most popular boy in high school back in his day. 

To hear Kate tell it he is a god among men. Captain of the Varsity Basketball team (just like Kate) universally liked and devastatingly handsome. He continuously won hands down as the most charming father. So much more than just the “cool dad”. The fact that Elizabeth won his heart is something that could give all teenage girls hope. 

Sweet, kind, simple wallflower Elizabeth ran off with the High School King’s heart and never looked back. She kept it effortlessly too. Simon could not have been more devoted to his wife, but not even Elizabeth’s cancer could overshadow him. He still commanded the eyes and ears of all who shared a room with him. Elizabeth happily conceded the podium every time he stumbled across her path. I don’t think he could help himself. He craved attention and Elizabeth’s illness wasn’t going to change that. If I were Elizabeth I think it would have driven me crazy, but for them it worked. They just worked. 

The car slowed to a crawl and I looked out the window to see we had stopped on the bridge. Kate got out first, turning off the engine, but leaving the headlights on. I followed, then Eleanor. We all left our doors open in case a fast get-a-way became necessary. 

“Do you see anything?” asked Kate looking across the hood at me. I shook my head. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I did feel something supernatural. Something not of this world. Something inside of me, struggling to escape. 

“Do you hear anything?” Eleanor whispered.

“And what do you suppose we’ll hear Miss There’s-no-such-thing-as-ghosts?” Kate smiled towards Eleanor and the tension from before evaporated. 

“Maybe we need to look over the side?” I suggested tiptoeing towards the edge. I still wasn’t afraid. Not of getting caught. Not of being grabbed my some dead ghost woman who didn’t have the sense to make her boyfriend use a condom. Not of anything. 

I looked over the side of the bridge. The Guadalupe was swollen from a rain earlier in the day. The moon reflected on the currents, and the water looked so peaceful that I felt like an intruder spying on some private moment so I inched back and stepped right into Kate. I shrieked with shock, covering my mouth. Kate also gave a yelp of surprise, but we were both outdone by Eleanor who screamed and ran back to the car, again diving into the back seat. 

Kate and I doubled over in laughter. Kate gained a small amount of composure first and managed to ask, “El, are you ok?” between gasps for air. 

Eleanor emerged from the car rubbing her head. 

“I banged my head on the car door.” This just made Kate and me laugh harder. 

“It’s not funny guys.” Eleanor pouted for a split second before catching the giggles. “Ow! Don’t make me laugh!”

Behind me I heard a twig snap. 

“Shhh! Do you hear that?” Kate and Eleanor’s laughter ceased. 

“What?” Kate inched closer to me. “I don’t know.” 

Under our feet something splashed into the water, loudly like it fell from the bridge.

We all met one another’s gazes a split second before the three of us let out blood curdling screams and ran back to safety of the car. 

“Drive! Go! Now!” Eleanor screamed from the backseat. The tires squealed against the cement as Kate threw the car into reverse, and we peeled down the road back towards the house.

The sound of the engine mixed with our panicked gasps. I started laughing first. 

“How’s your head, El?” 

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“What? I’m genuinely concerned.” 

“Funny.” 

“Seriously, you should have seen how fast and hard you flew into the backseat.”

“You could have a concussion.” Kate added, smiling out the side of her mouth. El sighed.

“You both just suck.”

“Fine. Throw our worry back in our faces.” 

Nine months ago, under the full moon, Kate smiled at me one last time.

Chapter 2

Four months ago, I was released from the hospital. My mother came to pick me up and sign me out. So casual. Like I was at the orthodontist’s office. 

I was sick. Not like Elizabeth was sick. An almost unforgivable secret sick.  Doctors have told me not to use the word “sick”. But I don’t know what else to call feeling like shit and having to take medicine. Bipolar disorder I guess. 

I said my good-byes to the nurses and my fellow patients. Good-byes with an undercurrent of “I hope I never see you again.” 

When I walked through the automatic magnetically locked doors the sense of freedom I had expected to feel eluded me. I guess because I knew what I was walking towards and my heart was heavy. 

The world outside the hospital felt changed in my absence. Everything was slightly listing and canted. Even colors were off. There was no absolute truth of red or orange or blue anymore, but only the theory left behind.

Walking out of Greengate Hospital was a lot like waking up after my gin and pill cocktail all over again. 

It was shocking, opening my eyes again after I had planned on keeping them closed forever. I wasn’t angry. Mostly disappointed and exhausted. To me this meant biding my time till I could try again. I instantly began to calculate how much time and effort it was going to take to gain everyone’s trust back so I could be left alone to try and kill myself again only without failing this time. 

I had no idea I wasn’t going to let off that easy.

My mom looked tired. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that tired in my life. 

“Laney, you have to go. You have to get help.”  

When they came for me I was still shaky from getting my stomach pumped. But I knew where I was going and I had no plans to go quietly. 

I locked myself in the hospital bathroom and pounded my fists on the door till I lost my balance and fell to the floor.  My whole body hurt. Bruises and cuts covered my knees and legs. Scratches ran up and down my arms. Souvenirs from my fight with Kate the night before. Reminders of why I’m here. Of what I’ve done, and who I really am.  

“Get the fuck away from me! How can you do this to me, Mom?” My screams ripped my already raw throat apart. From the tubes they said. My mom never answered me. I didn’t know she had left the room. 

Exhaustion set in and they took apart the lock on the door. I could only weep in weak protests as I was lifted up into a wheelchair and placed into a waiting van outside. Greengate Hospital was stenciled on the side. 

Growing up we’d laugh and joke about Greengate. That’s where they sent the crazies. A couple of times rumors at school were started about new kids that may or may not have just been released from Greengate. They always involved killing their parents, siblings or teachers. Eating the family pet. None them were true.  

I sat in an ugly orange plastic chair while they admitted me. I refused to answer questions just sat with my eyes hazy and facing forward. 

I foolishly thought I was making an impact when I refused to smile for my admittance photo. 

The world had betrayed me yet again. I vowed not to cooperate. I wouldn’t take the pills they tried to force upon me twice a day. I was great. The world was shit.

I had visions of punching and clawing every last one of the doctors, nurses and patients. Scratching my face with my chewed and jagged nails. Cutting myself in front of them and smearing the blood on the walls in defiance. These visions took me over, and for days they were all I saw. 

I would have my revenge. They would see my power.  I had to convey this was not my idea and I in no way deserved to be here. 

Somewhere in the middle of all that I became exhausted. The thoughts that raced through my head, instead of keeping me occupied began to break me down.  

Eating stayed impossible. I couldn’t stop thinking if I ate I lost. They would win. I pushed meals away even when my stomach growled with ravenous fury. 

It growled so loudly it kept me awake. Not that that is such an impossible feat. I hadn’t slept through the night my whole life.  

Sleep was something everyone else did. I snuck out of my house for late night strolls. I got addicted to the black and white Hollywood classics they show at three in the morning. I took my parents’ cars for joyrides and listened to the playlist Elizabeth made for me “Songs for Night Driving”. She knew I never slept. I hung out at the local Wal-mart that was open 24 hours. I got to taste the first batch of doughnuts of the new day. I witnessed so many sunrises in my life, the sight of them made me fluctuate from fury to despair. Yet another night of no sleep. Yet another night of no peace. God, I’m such a freak.   

I screamed into my pillow. I tried screaming to drown out the thoughts to no avail. There was no end to them. They never quieted. 

“We can’t release you until we’re sure you’re not a danger to yourself. Do you understand?” I begged for release for one reason only. To quiet the thoughts. To quiet my body which never needed rest. I didn’t want to be in this world. Why can’t they see that? Why can’t they just let me go?   

“Show us that you’re not a danger to yourself.”

“How? No one believes me.”

“Show us. Eat. Take your meds. This is very easy, Laney.” 

I walked to the nurses’ window and through gritted teeth I requested my medicine, and that night I slept. I slept past the sunrise, and when I woke up I felt as if I was still sleeping. The world was covered in a film I couldn’t see through. Like Vaseline smeared on the lens of a camera. People asked me questions I didn’t understand. I sat on the couch in the common room watching infomercials for most of the day. I accepted that this will be my life now. 

The next night I slept again, but this time I woke up and people asked me questions and my answers actually came out, but in slightly sluggish syllables. 

And again another night came, and again I slept. In the morning I calmly walked to the cafeteria and ate breakfast. Then I calmly had group therapy.  Then I calmly walked to the cafeteria and ate lunch. Then I calmly had individual therapy where the shrink congratulated me, and I understood she meant that I was following rules. But, that was ok. 

Each following day became clearer as I walked out of the haze, and eventually I walked out of the hospital. 

In four months I’ll graduate from high school.