Reasons for Recovery
by
Blair Burden
Text copyright © 2010 by Blair Burden
This novel is based on the novella ‘Reasons on My Wrist’
All rights reserved. Expert as permitted under the U.S Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the author.
There is no paperback version of this book as of 2011. This book is FREE and if you were charged for this book, it was done illegally.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and are based on characters 18 years or older. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Reasons for Recovery: a novel / Blair Burden
Summary: A teen who suffers from cutting feels as though her life is being controlled by those who are not relevant to her life anymore. She goes through a love triangle, deaths, and saving a life to finally realize her purpose.
My website: here
[email protected] Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Prologue
Life is so beautiful when you are looking in.
Those who wear smiles are the only ones that are living life.
So I thought.
Those who wear smiles are hiding barriers because they know that there is a sun.
A new sun, the next day, telling them you may start over.
Now I smile.
Chapter 1
August 1
“I’m leaving!” I slammed open the door for the millionth time and ran toward my car. I could hear Mama groaning and her slippers sliding across the kitchen floor after me. With rickety hands, I turned my radio up as loud as it could go and began to cry.
“Where are you going to go?” Mama shouted from the dirty kitchen window.
“Mandy’s house,” I sobbed.
We both grew quiet and Mama came outside, dragging her feet in the lawn. She tightened her robe and said, “Come inside. Just come inside!”
I ignored Mama and pulled out a picture of Mandy and I from my wallet. She was beautiful, with dark brown eyes. Her golden curly hair that went in all directions and the tiny gap in her teeth was like perfection in my eyes.
I felt Mama’s cold hand on my arm. “Cassie, let’s go inside and we can talk about this.”
I rubbed my swollen eye and unlocked my door. “I don’t want to hear it Mama.”
“I won’t talk about it. I promise,” she smiled and pulled me out the car. She held my hand and walked me inside the house.
Stubborn like always, I stood in the doorway with my body tensed. Cracked wine bottles were everywhere, hair was throughout the hall, and water spilled on the wooden tiles. Just because of two words—
“The baby can sleep in the bed with you because you know there is no way I can afford a crib with my waitress job. And you’re gonna have to breastfeed—”
“Mama, just shut up! You said you weren’t going to talk about it.”
“I said I wasn’t going to talk about Mandy. We haven’t even discussed our plans for the baby.”
“Mama, you said—”
With her lips quivering, she walked over to me and held me tight. My tears came like a shower and I began to choke on my saliva. She held me tighter and tighter, until I could not breathe anymore. In shock, I pushed her body away from mine.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You were trying to hurt me…no…you were trying to hurt the baby.”
“I know what is best,” she said. “Mama always knows best.”
I rolled my eyes and before she could stop me, I ran out the front door for the millionth and one time. I threw my bag in the backseat, turned up my radio, and sped down the street.
Mother knows best? Really? She doesn’t know anything. Look how I turned out, I thought. As I continued to cry, I drove off to the place I despised the most—my job at the bowling center. Despised, because no one liked me there, but even more was that I lived in a small town in Idaho. And since it was a small town, everyone knew everyone. And everyone knew me.
I was not the smart kid, the cool kid, or not even the pretty kid. No one said, “Oh, your Valeria’s beautiful daughter.” Instead, it was more like “Oh, you’re the girl that was in the hospital.” Not until now, it never bothered me. I had Mandy, but she is obviously not here anymore. Police found her body earlier this week –decapitated in a dumpster, far in the woods. She was a teen statistic, which the media leeched off. It sickened me to think about it, but even worse, it sickened me because I was the one to blame.
As I parked, I hid down in my seat as I spotted the second thing I despised most. However, I forgot, everyone knew me. You could spot my one-hundred dollar wreck a mile away.
“Cassidy! Cassie!”
“Mark, I really don’t want to talk to you,” I snapped as I got out the car.
“What did Valeria say?” he said as he grabbed my hand. “I’m not in trouble am I?”
I snatched my hand from his and pushed him back, “I said I don’t want to talk about this!”
“If my mom finds out about the baby or if anyone does I can go to jail. Please don’t let me go to jail—”
“I didn’t tell her about you. I told her I was pregnant and you can guess what happened.”
“What happened?” he said.
“Look at my eye, Mark,” I said.
“Did she punch you?”
“Even worse she tried to squeeze me to death,” I sighed, “she is a psycho.”
Mark sighed and nervously cleaned his glasses. “Well, Cassie I’m sorry. I need to get back to work. Boss is angry that you’re late. You better hurry inside.”
I rolled my eyes as I watched him go back inside. He always felt anxious when he felt like someone was watching him walk, so he would let his tall slender frame wobble like noodles. He was already gawky looking, with his big curly hair and pale skin, and walking like that just made him seem more peculiar.
So, should I tell him or should you?
I gasped and looked back at my car. “Mandy?”
I saw your dad. He looks younger. He is mad at you though. You let everyone get away with things.
“Mandy, leave me alone!” I began to walk faster toward the front entrance.
I thought we were best friends. However, you let me just die there. You are not a good friend. You should kill yourself.
“STOP IT!”
“Cassidy White, are you okay?” said my boss, Jeffery. “I didn’t expect you to be back at work so soon.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered as my eyes began to tear up. “Mark said you were mad at me because I’m late.”
“No, I don’t think you should be here—”
“Jeff, I’m fine. I need to get out of that house. What do you need me to do?”
“Um, well Stacy left early, so you can take her shift and go get orders from anyone down there bowling. Put your work uniform on and get going.”
I swallowed and went to the staff room in the back. As usual, no one was back there. I rather wished someone was back there—just so I could f
eel sane for one minute. I began to hyperventilate as I thought about Mandy. She was the last person I wanted to think about—Mandy.
You look great, Mandy said. You’re not fat yet. Trust me; no one will know you’re pregnant with Mark’s baby. No one will tease you. Hints, I’m being sarcastic. Everyone will call you a fat slut.
“Mandy, just leave me alone,” I whispered. “Just please leave me alone, okay?” I stiffened my body and headed to the staff room exit. I paused as I listened—
“She is talking to herself,” I overheard Mark say. “She keeps talking to Mandy.”
“I know,” Jeff said. “I don’t think she should be here—pregnant and all crazy like that.”
“She must be going insane. Her best friend is dead and everyone is blaming her.”
“Yeah, I would talk to myself too—”
“You guys stop it,” I snapped as I walked into the room with them. “I’m fine.”
“Cassie, you should just go home.”
“Today is our most busy night, I will stay here—pregnant and all crazy,” I snapped and continued walking out to the bowling area.
I held my breath as I spotted the group of teens that made my life hell—the Rat Pack. Hate is a strong word, but I truly hated them. Leather jackets, long dark hair, skinny jeans, and biker boots. I did not consider them the cool Rat Pack like from the sixties. They were the complete opposite—annoying was an understatement.
However, skanky girls treated them like royalty. As if, they invented coolness. Just looking at them made me feel like I had an STD (which I didn’t).
“Do you guys want to order any—”
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mandy’s shadow,” Kyle, the most annoying and tallest one said. “Wait, if you’re here, then where is Mandy?”
“Dude, Mandy is dead,” Sam, the second most annoying one said. “Let’s not bring Mandy into this.”
I rolled my eyes and thought about punching Kyle in his face and knocking out his stupid brown eye contacts. Then, I would grab his sandy brown hair and slam his head into the floor. That would not be all. I would save the rest for Sam who was the same height as me and probably weighed ninety pounds—
A paper ball bounced off my nose and I turned blue. “Who threw that?”
Kyle pointed at Jordan who probably looked the most decent out of all of them. He reminded me of the cute 90s actors. I probably wouldn’t harm him because he never bothered me much. He just always stared at me—crazier than everyone else did.
“Did you want anything to order or NOT?” I snapped.
“No!” Sam said.
“I don’t want anything,” Jordan said.
“No, I don’t want anything from you,” Kyle said. “You might spit in my food.”
“Ooh, I’m way ahead of you,” I smirked and walked over to the next booth. I ran my hands through my hair tensely as I waited for the next group of people to recognize me—Cassie the crazy girl.
“Hi!” said a young girl. “You’re Cassie, right?”
See, everyone knows who you are because of me, Mandy said. You should thank me.
“Just shut up!” I said.
“Excuse me?” said who seemed to be the mother of the girl.
“Oh, I’m sorry…I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Then, who were you talking to? My daughter, if so I will have to write you up to your boss.”
“No, I wasn’t talking to her either.”
“Then, who were you talking to?”
“Marla, just leave her alone,” said a man who was sitting next to her, who I assumed was her boyfriend or son—much too young and handsome to be her husband.
“Yeah, mom you’re so embarrassing. I’m going to go to school with these people in this room in a few months. You can’t keep embarrassing me like this.”
“Karen, just be quiet,” she said.
“Do you guys want something or not?” I snapped.
“No, not from you,” Marla said.
“Join the club,” I muttered under my breath and walked away.
You know everyone just thinks you are crazy. Why don’t you just do it already? Just kill yourself. You will be helping Mama, me, and everyone else—
“I can’t do this. I quit,” I said to Jeff and handed him the menu.
“But Cassie—”
“I can’t handle it anymore,” I cried. “Do you know how hard it is for me? Everyone thinks I killed my best friend and I just keep hearing her talk to me and yell at me. Now I’m pregnant. I’m only going to be a senior in high school and I’m pregnant.”
“But Cas—”
“I have to go.” I walked out the bowling center in tears.
My stomach was aching so much from all the crying I did daily. I was crying since I was in ninth grade. Ever since my father died from cancer, I had been crying. Then, when I thought I didn’t have enough tears, more came like a river when Mandy passed away.
I sat in my car with the radio turned on full blast. I dug around my full handbag and searched for my shiny best friend. He was so beautiful in my palms—clean and glass like. The cold silver was like perfection as it touched my warm skin. I knew I hit the right spot when I began to feel faint and my heart began to race. I shut my eyes and drifted back to the day when everything felt normal. But, yet everything was so wrong…
Mandy had just blown me off for her boyfriend who was twenty-six. She met him at a frat party, where she and he obviously did not belong.
“He is only twenty-two,” she always said.
“Really,” I had said. “He looks about thirty.”
“You’re just a jealous bitch.”
However, anyone in their right mind could see he was going on thirty, and not the good kind of thirty. His skin had a nasty dirty stained color to it and his hair was turning grayer every day. Everyone had suspicions of him. Including her family, so she lied. She claimed that I introduced them and she dated him out of pity. Of course, I covered for her—she was my best friend. I didn’t think it was a big deal, well not until I started seeing less and less of her. She also started turning mean, like real mean. She never called me a loser, fat, or ugly until she began dating him. She would tell me to kill myself because no one cared for me and she taught me how to self-harm and do drugs to end my life. It sucked because that was the only way I remembered her—as the awful best friend who did me wrong.
After a memorial for my father, I called Mandy. She would not answer so I assumed she was mad at me like usual. However, the night went on and her family called me and said she did not come home. I shrugged it off and said, “I really don’t care where she is.” It did not sound bad to me but later those words would haunt me.
Police found her body this week—everyone blamed me. They blamed me because I “introduced” her to that guy and apparently I knew about the murder. However, I knew as much as everyone else. And all I got is everyone yelling at me and voices in my head telling me I was unworthy. I just wanted to remember Mandy as if she did not exist. I didn’t want to remember all our late night phone calls, our slumber parties, our window shopping, and every laugh we shared. I did not want to remember her because when I thought of her, I thought of evil.