My eyes peeked open to an assault of bright white, and I shut them again. Everything felt foggy; I could move, but I felt weighed down and weak. It took a while for me to remember I wasn't supposed to be conscious at all, and I froze. Upon clenching my fists, pain shot up my arms, and I winced. I was still alive; I could hear my heartbeat. I could feel pain. I could smell the sterility in the air.

I'd failed, just like I did all through my life.

I opened my eyes again, and waited for them to adjust. I already knew where I was; I just didn't know how I'd gotten there. I reached over, hit the button to summon a nurse, and waited. My heart pounded; I hadn't even considered what I'd do if I failed. Failure wasn't even in my mind. I just assumed it would work.

The door opened, and a doctor walked in. Where was a nurse? The man was tall, stern-looking, and didn't comfort me at all. He stood next to the bed, looked at the monitor I was hooked up to, and wrote something on the clipboard he held. He then pulled off his stethoscope, pressed it to my chest. He wrote something else down, and then pulled a chair over, sitting in it. His eyes searched me, though I wouldn't look at him. He held out a hand. "I'm Dr. Mason."

"Christelle..."

He pulled his hand back after we shook, and went back to watching me in silence. I observed my hands, eyes going over my wrists, which both bore stitches, along with the inside of my elbows.

"How do you feel, Christelle?"

Knowing it was probable he knew everything about me, I opted for honesty. "Alive; not dead."

His stern eyes didn't change; I wondered if he'd been in the military. "Most would consider themselves lucky. How do you see it?"

"Unfortunate."

He nodded. "Well I think you're very lucky. It was a close call."

"You only think I'm lucky because you now get thousands of dollars in your next paycheck," I snapped before I could stop myself. My hand went up to my mouth in shock. When in the world had I become so rude?

Dr. Mason leaned forward then, looking into my eyes. He didn't show any pretense; indignation was clear on his face. "I didn't become a doctor for the money, Christelle. I wanted to help people, make a difference in their lives. People like you. You don't want to die."

"Of course. You know me better than I do, right? You've dug into my head, and you know exactly what I want." My voice broke on the last word, and I struggled to keep my conflicted emotions inside. "You don't know me. All you know is what you see, and what's on that stupid clipboard."

"You don't want to die," he repeated, voice measured. "You hate the world. You hate yourself. You're scared." His voice lowered, and his eyes softened. "But you don't want to die; you just want the pain to stop. You don't know how many cases like yours I've seen, Christelle, but that's not important. The fact is that you need to accept that you're important, and you have a role in this world. You don't have to die to escape your pain."

My tears burst free, ran down my cheeks and dripped off my chin. I wiped at it with rough hands. Dr. Mason stood, and gave me a small smile. "I'll come see how you're doing in a few hours. Try and think about what I've said."

Once alone, I listened to his footsteps retreat, until I could no longer hear them. His words bounced around in my head. I didn't want to die... I did want the pain to stop... but I didn't know how.

* * * * *

"You got visitors, babe," Mel, my nurse, told me as she checked my IV. She was a short, curvy woman. Nice, but tough as nails. She didn't treat me like a depressed girl that had just tried to kill herself, and I appreciated it.

But as she adjusted things for me, I felt close to full panic. I didn't know who the visitors were, I could only guess. But I didn't think I could look any of them in the eye.

"I don't think I can see them right now. Can't you tell them I'm sleeping?"

"I could. But I won't. They all love you, baby doll; that brother of yours almost yelled the roof down on our heads when we brought you in. Wanted to know everything we were doing to you, what would happen, all of it. I doubt he understood half of what we told him, but he wanted to know anyway. That boyfriend of yours too. Lucky you to be surrounded by such fine lookin' men. You got a downright nice family too."

Neil was there? My family? No, I couldn't face any of them. There was no way. Mel spotted the pure panic on my face, and her hands went to her hips. "Hey. It's always hard, the first visit after you attempt, but this will do you some good. Expect tears, sadness, and some anger; you might feel worse after they leave, but the next time won't be as bad, alright? Now toughen up and deal with it; I know you can."

Her last sentence made me feel better, and she winked at me before leaving. I had a few seconds to steel myself, and then the door was opening again. Mom stood in the room just in front of the closed door, and my guilt skyrocketed in two seconds.

There were some ways you never saw your parents, and you never wanted to see them that way. If ever you saw them that way, you knew it was bad. Parents were supposed to be the strong ones the ones to say it would be alright.

But mom looked the opposite. Her black, permed hair was messy, and she wore one of her usual dresses. But she wore two different shoes, like she'd hurried to put them on. Her eyes had dark circles under them, were red and puffy, and betrayed her lack of sleep and excess of tears.

She crossed the room and sat at the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch my face. I did my best to smile, knowing she needed it. Our roles were reversed, with me trying to bring HER comfort.

"Hi mom." I rubbed my thumb underneath her eye. "You haven't been sleeping right..."

It was a stupid thing to say, and I regretted it as soon as it came from my mouth. She brushed one of my braids behind my ear and burst into tears, hugging me tight and rocking side to side.

"My baby," she sobbed, over and over. All I could do was hold onto her and do my best not to cry, because it would be all over then.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, mom."

When she calmed, she pulled back and shook her head. "No, I'M sorry. I should never have stopped talking to you and you and your brother. If I'd known what you were going through, maybe you wouldn't have..."

"Mom, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have-"

"You hush, Christelle. Your father is to blame for all this mess. Every last bit of it. If I had known earlier, I would have skinned him alive."

I frowned. "What? Is he here?"

Her face took on a look of rage I'd never seen before. "He knows better. No, he's not here." It then smoothed again and she hugged me again. "I will talk to you soon; I'll tell you everything. But James needs to see you. He hasn't been working so he could be here with you every day."

I was afraid to let her go, and she could feel that. "I promise, I promise with all my heart I will talk to you soon. You and James, and that boy of yours will come over to have dinner, and we'll all talk. Okay?"

I nodded, and she kissed my forehead before leaving the room. I wasn't sure what to think about her new attitude towards my dad, but James' entry had me forget all about it.

Unlike mom, he came quick to my side, and looked me over. When he was sure I was alive and well, he flopped into the chair Dr. Mason had occupied. His fingers went to the bridge of his nose, and he sat like that for a while. I let him, scared of what he'd say when he was ready.

"Why the he- why didn't you tell me, Chris?" He spit his words like fire, and glared at me. "All this time, all these things you've been going through, why didn't you just TELL ME?"

"I didn't want to bother you with-"

"But you thought killing yourself wouldn't bother me!" He stood. "What is WRONG with you? I've been mad at you for things that weren't your fault. The people I should have been mad at were undercover with it all. No one knew what the heck was going on. Now it's all out in the open. But it was almost too late for you-" his voice cracked, and he turned around, walking to the wall. He paced left and right a few times, facing away from me, and tried to pull himself together.

"You were the only one in this family dealing with what's been happening from both sides. It's no wonder you tried to... But why... Didn't... You... Tell... Me? I would've believed you. You think I wouldn't?"

I couldn't look at him. I couldn't face the hurt in his face; it was bad enough to hear it. "I wasn't thinking straight. You were so happy, and you had Brandi, and I didn't want to bother you with any drama. I don't even think you know what she's done, but-"

"Everyone knows. She came out and told way more than anyone expected. Some stuff that's hard to hear. It wasn't ALL her fault, but she could have handled things differently."

"What happened?"

He shook his head. "You don't need to worry about it now. I'll tell you when you're better." He too sat on the edge of the hospital bed, and pulled me into a hug. "I don't know what I would've done if I'd been too late."

"How did you know..."

"You sounded weird. Too happy to be normal. I felt bad for ignoring you, so I came back... I found you..." The raw pain in his voice killed me.

"I'm sorry," I said, breaking down into tears. "I know I've messed everything up."

"No. I think you've fixed things. You're the reason everything has come out the way it has. Macyn would have kept her dirty secrets forever if you'd let her. I still can't believe she would have done all that to you. But she was desperate, I know."

Again, he'd lost me. I wondered what had happened, but he left me go too soon. He backed towards the door. "Visiting hours are almost over. You need to talk to Neil."

"No, I don't. That's the last thing I need."

His anger had been replaced with patience, and understanding. "Christelle, I know what you saw. It was the first thing that popped up on the computer; you didn't exit. But trust me... You need to talk to him. And he needs to talk to you. I'll see you first thing tomorrow, okay? I'm bringing Brandi; she said to tell you she's praying for you."

I was terrified, but couldn't help but be touched at Brandi's support. "Tell her thank you for me."

"Love you."

"Love you too. I'm so sorry..."

He didn't respond at first, back pressed against the door. "If you're really sorry, I want you to promise me two things. One: that you won't ever do something like this again."

"I promise."

"And two... I want you to work on getting better. To try your hardest. Listen to what the doctor says, and be happy. I want you happy. Promise."

I didn't know if I could be happy again. But I didn't want to let him down. I already had in so many ways...

"I promise."