Yellow- the Struggle Read online

  “I didn’t want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that’s really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you’re so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.”

  Ned Vizzini

  To my boyfriend who always has been by my side, even when I was a pain in his ass.

  Love you.

  prologue

  It's April, a year had passed, and I feel worse than when I arrived here a year ago— A year of my life suspended.

  As if time was frozen and I have frozen with them.

  I feel more—Lost!

  A year ago, I wanted with all of my forces to get out of here, but now? I don't feel prepared to face all the shit I've done

  before.

  I don't know how to deal with my all my bad decisions and my demons out there, I think it's too early for me to get out of here.

  How's life on the other side now?

  Is it better this time for me?

  I wish I could go back in time and erase all my missteps, all the pain, the hurt, and resentment.

  I heard someone knock on the door, and my heart starts racing;

  "I'm going!" I yell!

  But I don't want to go; I don't want to leave here, I know I'll make the same mistakes again— I feel it in my bones.

  The nurse interrupted my thoughts again; "Neva, your family is here; it's time to go," she shouted through the semi open door.

  But I didn't want to go; it was too painful for me out there, I want to stay! I though for myself.

  I get up from bed (angry by the idea of leaving here) from this room that has kept me safe from myself for a full year.

  What must I have missed during this year?

  Probably a lot, like Kyle and my brother's first year in college. The opportunity to finish high school and apply to Columbia College.

  All birthday parties, the thanksgiving dinners, all the laughs I used to share with Kyle, and with my brothers.

  Funny to say that but, we used to have the most strong bond in the world because we all grew up together; me, my brothers, and Kyle.

  We did everything together, but then, my brother's start to pay more attention to girls and school, and then they start to be more popular than I, and after that, they become more busy with their lives.

  They sidelined me; it was like I was just the annoying little sister when we used to be so much more than that.

  Kyle stuck around with me, and then Marcus came along in

  seventh grade but, it was never the same thing.

  I remember that we all plan years ago to attend the same

  college because we want to be closer.

  We were the four mousquetaire, but now? We are nothing.

  If I hadn't fucked everything up, maybe today I would still be with Kyle. But I blew it all on the day my brothers and Kyle went to college.

  Maybe I blew everything before that.

  Though I wasn't alone, I still had Marcus by my side, but it was not the same, just him and I.

  I got deep and buried in the hole that I couldn't find my way out when I saw all the messed up things that I did!

  I was so gutted.

  After all my mistakes and my several addictions, my parents

  decided to leave me here; in this fucked up place far away from everybody. They left me alone!

  As I was walking through the main hallway of the rehab center, the anguish of seeing them again, took me over, and my thoughts against my whole family have seized in my mind.

  Screaming all the stuff they all said to me before the rehab thing; "You are sick."; "You need help."

  Shit!...

  But all my thoughts vanished as soon as I saw them on the other side of the glass door waiting for me; my brothers and my parents — a fucking little perfect family.

  Fuck, how I hate them!

  My mother, as always have her light blond hair perfectly done, with perfect makeup on her white face and she has those

  classic clothes on her. My father is the real surprise here

  because he never wears a suit; he wears it only when he has a big case or a big client in his company. It's bizarre to see him in that, painful even.

  And my brothers are just my brothers; jeans and a plain t-shirt.

  My brothers are almost twins because they were born only a couple of hours apart. Owen is older than Tom by just a few hours, but they were not identical; they are too different, in and outside.

  And then, of course, I came a year after them.

  My mother always told me that she felt blessed the day she heard she was pregnant again.

  Despite never coming to understand why it happened because, she took every precaution not to get pregnant again, which leads me to want to believe that I had been a fucking mistake in their lives, which I remain to be.

  A completely fucked up mistake!

  Who knows if she had not decided to give birth to me, I wouldn't be here and that thought makes me comfortable

  because I wouldn't be feeling like a piece of shit in this world.

  I walk out through the glass door toward them; my dad picks up my bag that the nurse took care of to bring, while my mother looks at me with a stupid face and trying to hug me awkwardly.

  But I don’t give her that opportunity; so I shrug her off.

  All I want right now is a distance from her and all my family.

  Finally, we left the rehab center, and until we got home, I didn't say a single word despite my mother's failed attempts to make me talk.

  Four hours after we left the rehab center, I saw right in front of me my house.

  That giant white building with two floors; and beyond the black gates, there's a big entrance in parallel, where I used to park my car so that I could wash it, then we can see the five gates of the massive garage we have.

  And then, everything else it's just big enough to match the house.

  It's all just too much big in here— but nothing is much bigger than my mother ego.

  I don't realize how big this house is until today.

  I was overwhelmed with fear, anger; fear of seeing and entering that house again. That room that was once mine, and which still is, but it's strange to come back!

  Very odd, indeed.

  The only things I like in this house is the pool, my ocean view, and it could be just perfect if I can see the full sunset like Mrs. Gladys sees from her back yard!

  My father parked the car in front of the main door, my brothers took my suitcase from the trunk, and I started to get uncomfortable, as I waited for my mother to open the door for me to go straight to my room.

  I don't want to be with them, because for me the more

  distance from them, the better!

  The door opened; my mother enters first and then me.

  "Surprise!" A group of people screams as I come in.

  What the fuck is this!?

  Behind those people, who are my whole family on both sides, is some shit that says; "Welcome Home Neva."

  Oh fuck, I'm going to have to put up with this now?

  I look at my mother's face, who is happy to have prepared this large reception. My brothers entered the foyer and stayed by my side while my father took my bag up.

  I didn't know what to say or do, but it was apparent that I didn't want any of this shit!

  "Come and say "Hi" to your uncles, and your cousins—"My mother said. My furious gaze looked at her blue eyes, not

  letting her finish the ridiculous sentence that came out of her mouth.

  Without further ado and not wanting to know if I was rude, I started to climb the stairs to go to my room.

  I stopped in front of the door, which was open, my father had already left my bag the
re, but he was no longer inside.

  He probably must have gone to his bedroom to wear a more

  comfortable outfit as he always does.

  I was a little apprehensive about entering into my bedroom again because, the last memory I have in this room it’s too ugly and painful. But I knew I had to, I couldn’t occupy the guest room because who knew who could stay here today on this fucking special day.

  I took two steps forward and stood on the doorway looking around.

  The cork wall behind my desk no longer existed and was now painted in yellow, my three adjacent shelves were still packed with all my books, including the one that I had not finished reading, was in the same place as I had left. On my desk was my cell phone connected to the charger, and had a new Mac on top.

  My bed, my nightstands, and my drawer were now new and white.

  Well, now I have a king-size bed, how lucky I am?

  Two months later...

  "I'm not ready for life again!

  It's too early for me…"

  chapter one

  "I can do it! I can do it!" I repeat over and over again inside my head!

  My head feels like it's about to burst at any time. I feel tired, and my body can't stand the heat I'm feeling right now. Then I look at my hands because I think they are the epicenter of my pain.

  DAMN!

  My hands are covered in dried blood, and I don't understand what is happening right now.

  Why I have all this blood in my hands? Where am I?

  I should be at home! My mother is going to kill me.

  I start to hear heavy footsteps coming in my direction, but my vision is blurry, and I can't see things clearly. The room is dark and so damn cold and smells bad too, like rotten fish. There is only a small light in the ceiling and no windows.

  I'm sitting on the edge of a cold metal bench and nowhere else to go.

  What is this place anyway?

  I look around to try to figure out where the fuck I am! I feel so afraid right now.

  When the footsteps stop, I look up and see him; it was Mr. Lewis, with some darkness in his eyes.

  "Well Neva, I've seen enough, and you have to do it better than this, it's no good!" He said with anger in his voice throwing up a pile of papers onto the floor. That shit scared the fuck out of me!

  "Honestly, I think I have to stop wasting my time with you." His voice was so dark and so scary!

  He starts to pace back and forth in the small room.

  I follow him with my scared eyes, and I see him with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hair is a mess, and I can see the disappointment in his eyes.

  "You leave me no other choice." He says as he raises his hand. But before he could slap me...

  HOT! I'm too hot, and my pajama is soaked.

  Fuck!

  All the nightmares should be a bad memory by now, is not

  supposed to happen to me again!

  My eyes look around through the darkness of my room, but they stop when I saw the red numbers on my clock.

  Great! It’s 3 am.

  I light up my lamp from my nightstand, which fills my room with some light, but my mind remains in total darkness.

  I look around and see my bedroom walls; I still feel stunned and so scared until I realize that it was just a nightmare.

  I feel some relief, but it's not enough for me to calm down!

  My heart is still pounding, and I realize I can't fall back asleep again; otherwise, he will show up.

  I grab my phone from my nightstand; I need to talk to Marcus to feel better. I think for myself.

  I know it's three o'clock in the morning, but I don't know what else I can do, the best option is to call him, I think. I guess he's just going to help me feel much better.

  But then I realize that probably it's the best if I don't call him at all. He's so done with my shit that he won't answer my phone call. But at the same time, I want to call him so freaking bad

  because I miss him so much and I know that he could help too.

  I get up from the bed and start to pace back and forth in my room.

  I'm trying to think about something else to do, but my mind is shut off at this point.

  Fuck!

  I will call him, and if he doesn't pick up the call I will never call him again!

  That's it!

  I'm laid in my bed and start looking at the ceiling, waiting for him to pick up his phone, I'm almost losing any hope I had of him answering, but I need him right now. I can still hear Mr. Lewis's voice in my head over and over again.

  Why the hell did my mind does these kinds of things to me?

  This shit has to stop; I want them to stop!

  "Clark?" I hear Marcus's voice on the other side; I knew he would be sleeping. I'm sorry, but I need you. I thought for

  myself!

  "Marcus?" my voice is shaking, and only now do I realize how the nightmare affected me. I try to calm myself down to talk to him, but; tears begin streaming down my face, and it's difficult for me to control them.

  I feel so stupid for dragging Marcus into this situation again.

  "Neva, that's you? What happened?" I could tell he was deeply concerned and shocked to hear my voice. But no matter how hard I try; the right words seem to elude me.

  "He came back," I don't even know if what I said made any sense to him, I just wanted him to help me, to calm me down. I just wanted the anxiety to go away so I could feel normal again.

  "Hey Neva, stay calm, okay. I'll be there in five minutes." He said as he ended the call.

  I don't know why I still insist on bothering other people with my shit; I feel awful about it. But if there was something, I don't know, perhaps a solution to this.

  I would do anything to stop it from happening; I just wanted peace and nothing more. And still, Marcus came again to help me, to rescue me from my shitty nightmare after all I've done to him!

  My phone rang, rescuing me from my thoughts, a text from Marcus appears on my screen; "I'm here."

  I quietly jogged out of the bedroom to open the door for him. I didn't want my parents to know that he was here. Is the fourth night this has happened this week, but in the other three times I found another thing to do to forget about it, but this time, I don't have any strength to do it again.

  I opened the door, and see his white face pop out of the

  darkness of the night. His ginger hair it's still the same way as I remember, short, and then his big green eyes met mine.

  I hugged him as hard as I could; fuck I just forgot how tall he is because I hug him almost in his waistline, and he barely could breathe.

  My tears didn't miss the opportunity, and they now resemble a river. He hugged me back, running his hand over my head,

  trying to calm me down.

  It feels so damn good, and I miss him so freaking much!

  "Shhh… I'm here, Neva. It's okay." He told me in such a

  soothing voice that my heart immediately began to slow down. He took a step back to look at me.

  "What's happened?" He asked me.

  I felt so embarrassed that I wanted to sink into the floor. I made him come here in the middle of the night because some shit that is none of his business. But I'm so afraid right now that I can't stand being alone in my room for tonight.

  Without saying a word to him, he came into my house, grabbed my wrist and we went up fast to my bedroom.

  When we reached the middle of the stairs, I began wondering if he was disappointed with me or even angry at me. He doesn't have a fucking clue how these days has been to me! And what has happened to me since I got home.

  As I reached my bedroom door, my fear got even more real, and panic invaded my stomach.

  I stopped Marcus from opening the door. I wanted to explain what had happened before we stepped inside.

  But, yet again; my own words betrayed me.

  "I'm sorry."

  Shit!

  He will be so pissed off with me, and he will t
hink that I'm a lost cause.

  He looked at me with wide eyes, slightly disappointed; as I knew he was going to be, and rightly so. But none of that stop him from entering the bedroom, quite the opposite, it just made him come in even faster.

  As he stepped inside, he turned on the bedroom lights, and his eyes immediately stared at the wall and desk.

  His eyes are so horrified with my relapse, and I know he's right to be but still; I don't know how to control my addiction.

  After a minute of him processing what he was seeing, he looked at me. I was so nervous about his reaction.

  I slowly closed my bedroom door to avoid making any sound.

  "Again? You have got to be kidding me…" He told me, rolling his eyes at me stealthily to not make any sound either, but it still seemed like he was yelling at me.

  He saw this shit too many times in the past, too many times he came here, to this goddammit bedroom to try to save me from myself, I think.

  And what did I do? I push him further away from me. I was so obsessed with me and with my things that I forgot him; I missed his mom funeral, I fail to be with him in his hard time, and I just stopped talking to him out of the blue. But I do the same thing with my brothers and with Kyle.

  I shouldn't have done that, it was my biggest mistake.

  I stared at the floor without retorting, and I didn't even know what I was going to tell him.

  "For how long?" He asked, pointing to the wall and desk, full of paper sheets.

  See, I used to organize my thoughts by colors, you know. The red ones are for angry and hateful thoughts, the light blues are for the sad ones, the greens are for the peaceful days I have, and the yellow ones are for the happiest moments in my life. But right now, the wall and the desk are cover by the red and the blue ones.

  His eyes were full of anger, wrath, and I deserved all of that from him.

  I, with my head still down, and trying to look up a little at him, feeling incredibly embarrassed by everything.

  "S-since Tuesday." I lied to him. I didn't want to tell him the whole truth; I couldn't. But I feel bad to do so.

  "Bullshit. I'm going to ask you once again, and if you lie to me, I will leave, and I will never talk to you again in my life," he says.