Page 56 of The Girl He Loves
Even with the clouds looming in the distance
Even with the inevitable pain I’m facing.
I often ask myself why
Why don’t I hurl myself off this road?
The radio is telling me to
Shouting at me until I explode
And I can’t ignore these sounds
Or turn down the volume
It just stays blasting all around
I can’t let it become my crown
I can’t let it enter my commune
So I ask myself why
Why can’t I hurl myself off this road?
I keep on driving towards this storm
Deep down I know why
I have to keep driving forwards
I have to make it to the other side
And I can’t slow down
Because I might choose to stop
This car I’m driving is close to its breakdown
I just don’t want to let them down
So I can’t let myself drop.
I keep driving towards this raging storm
And deep down, I know why.
Oh my…anyone who can read between the lines can see something’s not quite right with this girl. She’s clearly upset.
There’s another photo of her. She’s cuddling Trixie again. She’s still wearing the red sweater. You’d think she would have gotten rid of the sweater by now… it’s early June. Something’s off about that photo. There’s a curve to her lips, but her eyes are sad. I scroll down her feed, and notice that each photo is almost a duplicate of the one before; red sweater, a forced smile, sad eyes. Only the setting changes and occasionally the sidekicks; her friends, her cat, and sometimes her dad.
My gaze is fixed on a photo of her and Joel — there’s a genuine smile on her face in this one. He’s hugging her and she’s pulling away from him, but still seems to be happy, if not a little embarrassed and uncomfortable. The sleeve of her sweater is riding up, and I notice something. I zoom in closer, and it’s unmistakable. Her wrist is covered with a series of small cuts. Most people would miss it. I’ve seen this photo before, more than once, and I’ve always had a keen eye for details, and even I missed it initially. But when zoomed in, it’s so obvious.
My heart sinks. Poor girl.
Do her parents know about this? My bet is that they don’t. They need to know. But how do I even bring it up?
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