"So, before we pray, I would like to say that this year's First United Methodist Youth Retreat has been wonderful. It's so amazing that all of you could come. Okay, now we're going to have a moment of silence. If you feel that God is moving you to say something, please don't be afraid to say it. You don't need to bow your heads. Just let the spirit move you." My youth pastor, Diana, finished her speech and looked around at all of us. I did the same, knowing that after I spoke it was more than likely none of them would ever speak to me again. If I didn't do this now I knew I'd never be able to do it ever. I raised my voice, "I have something to say."
Everyone in our circle turned to me. I took good long looks at their faces. Would they even be my friends after I say what I'm about to say? I wondered. Seeing them, Danny, Chrissy, Michael, Sahara, Anna Maria, Justice, Liberty, and all the others looking at me silently tore at my heart. How will I tell them, when this could be goodbye. They'd hate me, I know it.
"I know why I'm doing this, telling you," I said. "And I know that none o you will ever look at me the same way again...." Liberty cut me off, "Come on Jubilee, it can't be that bad!" I glared at her. It had been hard enough to start, and it's going to be even harder if Libby acts like herself. I'm sorry Libby, I thought. I wasn't trying to be rude, so it was only a light glare. "Please let me finish." I asked. She motioned for me to continue, and I nodded my thanks. "Don't interrupt me, please, or I might not be able to say anything. Do y'all remember when I was gone all last summer, and I told you I was at my grandparents." I waited until they nodded before forcing out the truth, "I lied."
"I wasn't at my grandparents. I was in a rehab center." I stopped again and closed my eyes, fruit not to see their faces or hear their shocked gasps. I pressed on. "The last community football game we had was at the stadium. That night I got injured, sprained my ankle, and I decided to go home. I declined all offers of help, instead being determined that I would make it to my car on my own. God, I wish I had let someone help me that night."
"I was halfway to the parking lot when I realized that I was being followed. I tried to pick up my pace, but with my ankle it was difficult. I don't know who it was I just wanted to get out of there so I broke into a sprint, ignoring the pain. If I had started to run a few seconds earlier, I would have made it. As it was, I was to late. He grabbed me, dragged me to to his car and, well, I'll leave the rest to your imagination."
I broke off here, taking a deep breath and not paying attention to the stares that were shot at me, the tear filled eyes of my friends and mentors. It was hard.
"I hated myself. Oh, I knew it wasn't my fault. But I couldn't help but think of the stuff I could have done to stop that from happening. And it kept happening. Over and over again in my mind whether I was asleep or awake. My nights were tortured, my days even more so. I was literally shutting myself down from the world, trying to deal with the pain on my own. I didn't eat. I didn't talk. I was a ghost for two weeks after it happened."
"Then one day when I was the only one home, I went downstairs. I don't know what I was thinking, but I grabbed one of my Step-Dad's beers out of the fridge and the bottle of tylenol out of the medicine cabinet. I downed five or six pills and the beer in less than five minutes. The only way to put this is, I got high. I'm not going to lie to any of you and say that it felt horrible, because the truth is that it felt amazing. Like I could take on the world and no one could stop me. I didn't feel pain, and that was my main relief. I couldn't feel pain."
I sighed and willed myself not to burst into tears. Glancing around, I could see that everyone was looking at me with horror on their faces. Everyone except the adults. I had told them everything this morning.
"I didn't mind the hangover I had the next morning, how I had felt that night made it worth it. But then the pain came back. So I did it again, and again, and again. It took two weeks for me to not just want the pills, but to need them, to crave them. I had become an addict. My parents never realized what was happening, because I bought the pills with my own money and I didn't swipe any more beers. I didn't like the taste as much as I liked getting drunk. Oh, Momma and Chris knew something was wrong, and we fought a lot as they tried to get me to tell them what it was, but I didn't care. I didn't give a damn. I didn't eat, hardly slept, all I cared about was getting to my next dose. And being high, staying high. That was my whole world."
Some of them were crying, others were looking at me like they didn't even know me anymore. They probably didn't. Before the drugs, I was a whole different person. I could take the looks from just about anyone, but seeing the look in Justice's eyes right then just about killed me. I still pressed on, determined to finish what I had started.
"One day my parents left for some dinner, and I ran to the bathroom for my pills. Then I looked in the mirror. And what I saw wasn't me. It was my dad. I I looked at the reflection, and I realized that I had become the very person I had sworn I would never be. And I hated myself even more, for becoming just like him. I hate him for what he did to me and Mom, for when he left, when he hit us, even though I was two and don't remember. He got addicted to drugs and left, and now I was just like him. I sat around for hours looking in the mirror, but all I could see was his face, tormenting me, taunting me. I couldn't take it any more, so I went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and slit both of my wrists."
I took off the thick wrist bands I had grown accustomed to wearing, and held up my hand. The scars may have been a few months old, but you could clearly see the knife lines. In my state of high I hadn't been coordinated enough to make it look clean.
"My parents found me that night. I spent a week in an ICU unit. Another two in a hospital. Then I went to a rehab center for two months until my doctors were confident I could live without supervision. I'm not an addict anymore, but thanks to the fact that I was, I will always want it again. I will always want another pill, and I will always try to stop myself from giving in every single day. I will always be fighting myself, trying not to give in to the temptation."
They stared at my scars in a type of sick fascination. Justice looked at them once before glancing away. I didn't let him see the pain in my eyes. My boyfriend hates me now. I thought. God, they must all hate me.
"I'm telling you this because I don't want it to happen to you. If something happens to any of you that tears you apart, don't hide it like I did. Don't let it destroy you. That was my undoing, thinking I could handle it on my own. I couldn't. I can't. I have people helping me now, people I trust. This is the first time I'm telling someone this without being prompted, and it feels good. You'll probably never want to talk to me again, and I understand. I'm not the girl you thought you knew. But learn from my mistakes, don't go down that path. It only takes one time, one high to be you undoing."
I stepped away from them and hung my head, letting a few tears run down my cheeks. None of them said anything, but I could feel their stares. My parents had kicked me out, and I knew that I had lost them to. I steeled myself to leave, when all of a sudden someone wrapped their arms around me and pulled me to their chest. Justice crushed me into his embrace, and wept openly. Soon every on had ahold of me in one large group hug, crying and telling me they were here for me.
They all pulled back except Justice, but they all stayed within an arms reach. Diana laid her hand on my head and said, "Father show her your way." Closing their eyes they all said a prayer for me. Justice framed my face in his hands, and kissed me lightly, tenderly. He pulled back and rested his forehead on mine. The waterworks I had been doing a bad job of holding back finally went all the way over the dam and my tears erupted, spilling over faster than the Niagara Falls. He held me again, and I realized that I had found a new addiction. One that wasn't harmful, but healthy. And I knew I would keep getting high on it.
A/N:
I know, it's a crappy ending, but it's a true story. Although Jubilee wasn't kicked out, that was just added for drama.
