Decisions

Decisions                     

DeVonna Poole

 It is one O’clock in the morning and here I lay, tossing and turning, with no ability to get Ronnie out of my head. Ronnie has never kicked me out of the house, but the day she did was the day I stopped being able to do anything. Can’t eat, or sleep. I even find it hard to get up and dress myself; to talk to my mom when she comes in to see how I am doing, to babysit my little brother when my mom has to work. My everyday life has ceased to exist all because Ronnie refuses to contact me in anyway. If I call her, she forwards me to voicemail, if I text her, she ignores it. But, there is an option I have not considered.

“Mom, I am going over to Ronnie’s house.” I whisper in her ear and then grab my coat and keys.

“When will you be back? I have to work at noon tomorrow.” My mother asks in a dreary haze.

“I will be back before noon. I promise.” I leave the house. I don’t drive- I want more time to ponder what I will do, what I will say, and what she will say to me. All the possibilities that could occur get my blood pumping and my nerves start to soar.

In an instant, my brain stops  all of the swirling possibilities spin to just one thought. It’s snowing. I don’t know why, but the thought calms me. I look up and see the snowflakes elegantly falling to the ground, becoming one with the Earth. I stop in the middle of my stride and breathe in, deeply, feeling the cold air rush to my lungs. I taste the freedom as all my problems melt away; I always remember that snow can always be there to catch me; to cover me with its cold blanket; somewhere I can cry.

HONK!

I am forced out of my trance by a car coming down the lane. I notice I have drifted into the road. Immediately I run to the sidewalk as the car rushes by, still honking. I walk down the sidewalk watching my every footstep, as it ruins the perfectly formed snow; my heart still racing. The ruined snow saddens me because it reminds me that even snow-that hasn’t hurt me or my family, but has protected me from pain-can be destroyed by one element in its path.

     Twenty more minutes go by, and I finally arrive at Ronnie’s house. My stomach starts doing backflips and my heart starts jumping around in my chest as I approach her door.

       Knock. Knock. Knock.

       I don’t get a response, but knowing she is up watching movies, I start shouting, “Where there is love, there is life!” I swallow sharply-the cold air hurts my throat-and speak again, “There is no love here without you!”

I wait for her to answer, but when she doesn’t, I start walking away, feeling defeated and ashamed. 

As I hit the end of the driveway, where it meets the sidewalk, the door opens. “Bailee?” Ronnie answers in her pajamas and bunny slippers, “What’re you doing here? And what was with the love thing?”

          I walk back to her porch and when I am face to face with her, I open my mouth and explain why I am there, but words would not form. My mind struggles to find words to fit how I’m feeling.

        “Bailee, come inside. You look cold,” She gestures me inside, so I enter, feeling the bitter heat hit my face; burning my skin, “Here, have some hot chocolate,” She hands me a cup of hot chocolate and sits down on the couch.

“Ronnie,” My voice breaks at the end, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t lay up at night, wondering if I ruined our friendship, or if you hate me anymore, I just can’t do it anymore.” My voice becomes loud and shaky and tears fall from my eyes. “I told you how I feel about you, and you kick me out of your house. I try to give you space, but the more space I give you, the more I feel dead inside!” My voice is hoarse with exhaustion and sadness.

        She is quiet so I turn to leave but she grabs my hand. “Let’s go to bed. We can talk about it in the morning.” Ronnie pulls my hand and we head upstairs to her bedroom.

Her room looks different for some reason. It seems dimmer and emptier than before even though everything is in its proper place.

We lay down in her bed and she turns off the light.

 “I’m not mad at you Bailee, I love you too,” Those are the words I fall asleep to.

    ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

I wake up in her bed. The sun shining and the crisp air blowing through her open window, I notice Ronnie is still sleeping, so  I leave her in her blissful slumber and depart.

The snow is still on the ground, but it is shimmering with joy, unlike last night, when the joy was gone and it was covered in despair. This morning greets me with euphoric smiles.

“Hey!” I hear a shout from down the street. It comes from a group of girls and guys all nestled together.

“Hey, aren’t you Bailee Scott?” Another girl shouts at me.

I come up to the group and notice they don’t look very friendly. “Yeah, I’m Bailee Scott. Who are you?”  I ask with curiosity in my voice.

"It does not matter who we are." The only brunette girl in the group sneers at me. "Aren't you gay? Like a dyke?"

"Um, yes, I am gay," I ask in confusion, wondering how they knew my secret, or why they are concerned with my sexuality.

"You're an abomination. You will burn in hell if you don’t repent to God and change." The boy with medium auburn hair growls at me.

I am repulsed by his philosophy that I can change who I am. “ I can’t change being gay, I-” The brunnette interrupts me

“You chose to be gay. You can change.”

“You might as well just kill yourself. You will go to Hell anyways.” A short blonde speaks for the first time.

I turn away from them and walk  away

“You aren’t worth anything bitch!” Someone yells at me, so I start running away, trying to get away as fast as possible.

I dont stop running until I get into my bathroom. I slam the door shut and lock it. I look around and it looks the same as always: white walls with red sharpie writings, a huge circular mirror with five light bulbs ahead, my favorite red rug in front of the door and razor blades on the sink covered in dry blood from previous sad nights, I close my eyes and sink to the floor crying. I start screaming and kicking at the floor as if trying to break through.

Finally, I stand up, pull my anxiety pills out of the medicine cabinet and stare at them. Everything they told me, is running through my head

“Nobody likes a dyke Bailee, You aren’t worth anything. Stop being a fucking coward and kill yourself!” I say in a condescending voice to my reflection. 

I grip the bottle tightly in my fist and hit it against the mirror making it shatter into many pieces. I look at the bottle in my hand, I pop the lid off my pills and pour as many as I can fit in my hand. I wait just a few seconds just to see if anyone will come stop me or if I even want to stop myself, but I don’t want to stop.

 I want to end it. 

I want to end all the pain, it’s not worth it anymore. I look down at my hand and shove all of the pills into my mouth and swallow hard.

I drop the bottle on the floor and as it bounces. I slowly crumble to the floor, tears streaming down my face. I lay down on my rug, hug my knees to my chest, close my eyes and start counting.

One. Two. Three. Four, Five. Six. Seven

 I start to feel myself become numb It spreads from my stomach to my lungs, finally, to the rest of my body until I feel nothing and blackout.

                                                   ♦♦♦♦

I wake up to my phone ringing loudly in my ear, groan and answer it. "Hi, Ms.Scott" 

"Bailee. Bailee. Bailee.” She keeps saying her name in a flat voice.

"What’s wrong with Bailee, Ms. Scott?" I sit up, concerned.

"She committed suicide." She says; her voice still flat. 

"What?!" Astonishment is in my voice,

“She did it earlier today.

"I’m coming over right now." I rush out of my house and drive over to Bailee's house, passing a small group of kids from my school; when I arrive at Bailee’s house I immediately I see the ambulance in front of her house and a body being taken away. I get out of my car and run to the red and white truck.

“Excuse me!” I shout at the man carrying the body, but he ignores me. I shout again. “Excuse me!” And again. “EXCUSE ME!” I finally get his attention, 

“Who is that?” I ask, pointing to the body with a shaking finger.

“Uh, I don’t know who it is, but it’s a blonde. Female. About your age.” His voice is numb; full of indifference. There isn’t one ounce of compassion in his voice. As if she is just another dead body.

“Can I see her?” I ask. He hesitates at first as he sets the body in the back of the ambulance, but finally, he answers.

“Sure.” He moves to one side of the truck and allows me to get in with the body.

He closes the doors and I force myself to uncover the face.

 Bailee.

 I start sobbing with guilt. The girl lying on this stretcher is without a doubt my best friend, but she’s also a stranger. The girl laying in front of me doesn't look like my Bailee Scott

Her once warm, blue eyes are now cold and frozen. The blood that would flow to her cheeks, making them so rosy red, flows no more. Her long, streaming, golden hair has turned into split ends, and death.

I press her hand to my cheek and close my eyes, hoping that the warmth she always had is still there, but I am exasperated because it is nothing more than a cold, dead hand being pressed against my cheek. I start rubbing it, hoping that the friction can warm her up, hoping the warmth from my body can some how unfreeze her and bring her back to life, but it doesn’t. The warmth is gone. Just like her ocean blue eyes. Just like the blood flow. Just like my best friend.

♦♦♦♦♦

That was about a week ago; I haven’t eaten since the day after her death. I cry myself to sleep every night, my grades have slipped, and I no longer apply to colleges. Instead, I lay at home crying at pictures of Bailee and me, watching our old videos from when we were twelve, wearing her jackets and planning her funeral, which is today and I am not looking forward to that.

“Ronnie!?” I hear a female voice from downstairs. I rush to see who it is-it is my Aunt Veronica. She has come to take me to Bailee’s funeral.

I quickly put on the little black dress Bailee picked out for me when we went dress shopping; she said it was “just in case” I needed it for our grad party.

How ironic

I breathe in slowly. “I am ready.” I saunter down the stairs grab Bailee’s favorite blue jacket and put my heels, taking longer than I normally do.

“Come on, Ronnie, we have to go. You're speaking first.” My aunt rushes me out the door and into her big truck.

I watch as the trees and houses bolt past me.  Then we get to Bailee’s house and the Earth slows to a halt. 

I remember when I brought Bailee chocolate cake because she found out her dad died and how we sat up all night eating the cake and talking about how much she missed him. 

Then the memory is gone, replaced with an image of Bailee in her bathroom, bleeding and dead.

The image smacks me right back to the present day.

The ride is a solid three miles away from my home, but it feels like just seconds, and here I am, having to face the one thing I fear the most: reality.

We get out of the car and enter the church.

“Ronnie?” Bailee’s six-year old brother runs up to me and pulls the hem of my dress. “Why is everyone crying?” He asks me with a sad look on his face.

“We all miss Bailee, Brandon.” I explain to him while picking him up.

“Why?” He asks me in his little prepubescent and naive voice.

“Because she is gone.” My voice cracks and I hold back my tears so he won’t worry about me.

“Where did she go?” 

“She went to Heaven, Brandon.”

I sit Brandon with his mom and take my place at the podium. The music ends, the people become silent, and it is  time to say my speech.

 “Ladies and Gentlemen, some of you know me, but some don’t. I am Ronnie Davidson, and I am Bailee’s best friend. We have been best friends since we were four years old. We played with our Barbie dolls in preschool; we played tag with only each other in elementary school, we helped each other find ourselves in middle school and we planned on graduating together, but plans have changed. The Bailee we all knew was soft, friendly, warm and generous. The Bailee I knew was all of those things but she was also wild, reckless, funny, and vulgar. She got me to experience more things. We would try alcohol drinks, we would go to parties, and we would sneak onto the beach just to see the waves crash together.” I remember the night that Bailee’s grandfather died she came over crying and we walked to the beach, jumped over the fence and held hands while watching the waves crash together. We sat there until sunrise.” I smile at the memory; it was one of the most blissful times of my life. “Also, something none of you knew was that Bailee was gay,” Gasps and scoffs enter my ears at all angles of the room but I ignore them and keep speaking. “She loved me. And, I loved her. I couldn’t really show her how I felt, because I wasn’t quite sure of my feelings towards her, but now I know. I guess it is a little too late though. The day she died, she didn’t just take her life.” My voice cracks and it becomes almost impossible for me to finish. “She took my life, her mother’s life, later on in time Brandon will learn and will be affected by this horrific event. I knew about Bailee’s depression and how she would cut herself but she was getting better. Her scars were healing and no new cuts would appear but I guess you never really know everything about somody. I hope things I have told you will not change how you felt about Bailee. She is a wonderful and beautiful person and deserves to be happy in Heaven.” I start to walk to my seat but there was one more thing I wanted to say. “And Bail, if you can hear me, know that you will always have my heart and we will meet once again. When I am an old lady and you are still a young and reckless teen. I love you.” Wiping my tears from my cheek, I sit down and start to cry all over again.

After I was finished speaking, Bailee’s niece and nephew went up and sang  A Little Fall of Rain; the song always had a special connection to Bailee. It was played at her great Aunt’s funeral and her father’s when he died, and now at her funeral.

After they got done singing the preacher spoke and so did her grandmother but I didn’t listen, until I heard an unfamiliar voice

“Hello all, um, I am Samantha Chidleko and I am the cause of Bailee Scott’s death.” I look up to see a brunnette talking and notice she was from that group that was standing by Bailee’s house that day. She continues speaking. “ The day of her death a few friends and I saw her coming from someone’s house and my friend Brad had heard that she was gay from someone she knew and-”

“She was coming from my house that day.” I say loud enough for everyone to hear but not a shout. “What did you do to her?”

“My friend heard that she was gay from a girl they both knew and we called her over and when she approached us, we…” She sniffs and looks down. “We told her that if she doesn’t change and repent for her sins that she’ll,” Samantha looks up with tears rolling down her face. “That she will burn in Hell. We told her to change her ways.” 

A silence takes over the room until I speak. “She couldn’t change who she was. It’s not something you can change.” I approach her, she towers over me. “Because of you, the love of my life, is dead.” I collapse to the floor and sob. 

“Ronnie, I am so sorry.” Samantha sits next to me

“Sam, I think we should leave now.” A boy with auburn hair says grabbing her arm and pulling slightly.

“Wait Brad.” She stands again and speaks one more time. “A friend that was with Brad and I that day committed suicide last night. Guilt overtook him and a few days before he slit his wrists he told me to give this,” She holds up an envelope. “To Bailee’s mom.” She steps down, gives Ms. Scott the note and leaves with Brad.

“Well, I think it is time to lay this young lady to rest. If everyone will exit and go to the cemetery please.” The pastor gestures to the exit of the church and everyone walks out except me and Brandon.

“Come on Ronnie! Everyone is going outside! Maybe we can play in the mud like Bailee and I used to.” Brandon pulls my hand away from my face and we exit the church hand in hand.

Bailee’s niece is singing again. I don’t know the song but it is beautiful. I approach the casket and see the creation I made the Thursday before today. The casket is a white wood casket, big enough to fit a girl who is 5’7-a little taller than Bailee- there are tulips on the casket intertwined in the big white bow on top. As Bailee’s niece sings the casket starts to lower, and people start throwing shreds of paper into the blowing wind, as a symbol for Bailee. I back away and look at the scene.  

Nothing about Bailee’s death has seemed more real than this moment in time. I realize my best friend is gone. Forever. The girl I shared my despair with, the girl I shared my secrets with. The girl whom I truly loved; is no longer going to come over to my house to watch a bunch of scary movies and then one happy movie just so she can sleep well at night, won’t scare the hell out of me every time I leave the bathroom just to have a good laugh. She just won’t be there.

Rain starts to pour down onto everybody and they huddle around the big black tent to keep dry.

Except me.

 I stayed in the rain; closing my eyes, raising my head to the sky, and feeling the cold drops of water hit my body ever so softly. I reminisce on how perfectly beautiful everything was, but it was twisted beauty.

The gloomy sky, the acidic rain, crying faces, and the burying of a perfect person. It all fits perfectly together to make it twisted and beautiful.

I watch as the casket lowers into the ground. Ms. Scott starts breaking down on her knees for the first time since her daughter’s death; I actually stopped crying. My eyes dry up, my face becomes blank.

And my heart stops beating.