(For reading ease: Text aligned to the left is current day, text aligned to the right is flash back. Enjoy)

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I’d never tell.

I repeated this in my mind at least once every 20 minutes. Since the party Friday night, the words had become a lifeline for me. They held me together through two days locked alone in my room. Nothing would or ever could make me tell. When I thought about it, I couldn’t find a way that it wasn’t my fault. I had gone out without telling anyone. I had gotten drunk. I had pushed my friends away. So why did I feel so angry at others? Hadn’t I told Sara and Hannah to go without me? Hadn’t I been the one to pop open yet another can of beer? Wasn’t it me who greased the hinges on the front door so my parents wouldn’t wake up as I left? There was no way it wasn’t my fault!

And yet…

As I made my way down the hallway to first period where my friends sat, I couldn’t help but feel betrayal hit me like a bus. Sara waved as I entered the room. She motioned for me to come over to her desk, where Hannah sat, eyes glued to her phone. I gave them a small wave and pointed at my binder. Homework. I mouthed the word and Sara nodded, understanding. It was a lie. I had no homework, but I couldn’t face them right now. Not without crying, screaming, and/or hitting something; that simply wasn’t appropriate for a study hall this early in the day.

I leaned against a locker and let my long legs stretch out in front of me. Sara was taking forever! She was pulling as hard as she could on the locker three down from me and cussing under her breath. She had jammed it yet again, probably from shoving in piles of clothes. Hannah sighed and began to rock back and forth from foot to foot. Her eyes were bleary and she clutched a coffee for dear life. That is what Mondays do to all of us. I, never the less, looked fabulous, short skirt highlighting my legs, low cut top showing off just enough. That could be used to our advantage. I pushed off the locker and clicked my way down to hall to where half the football team was making animal-esque noises. I held my head high, my shoulders back, and glanced up at the nearest giant from under my lashes, tossing my silky hair.

“Hey, Sean,” I whined slightly, “My friend’s locker is stuck and I need someone big and strong to help and I just knew that you were the guy to come to!”

He glanced back and forth from me to his buddies. I nibbled on my lower lip and just like that he was mine.

I sat on my own in the back of the class and spent the period alternating between staring at the stain on the carpet in front of my seat and drawing squiggles in my notebook.

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I’d never tell.

I repeated the words to myself all throughout the day, processing little of anything else. I wasn’t upset. Nothing was wrong. Everything was fine. But, no matter how much I said this to myself, I couldn’t quite believe it.

That night at dinner I only ate a few bites of food. My stomach churned with the thought of food, so I spent most of the time pushing it around my plate. I told my parents that I had eaten a big lunch; they believed me. Why wouldn’t they?

“Freshie Alert,” Hannah spat out when we entered the coffee shop. I looked around, feeling anger rise in my throat. Three girls from the newly arrived freshman class were sitting in our seats. The big comfy arm chairs belonged to us, and everyone knew that. Sara scoffed and went to get into the line for her tea. Hannah started to walk towards the little girls, but I stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Let me,” I spoke softly and punctuated it with a wink. Hannah nodded and turned to follow Sara. “Get me a black!” I called after her. With that taken care of, I moved gracefully to my corner, heels clicking on the linoleum.

“Hey ladies!” I made my voice high and friendly as I sat down on the arm of the chair next to the smallest, and clearly most shy girl. “You go to Thompson right?” They nodded their assent and I laughed. “So cool. I bet I’ll see you at some parties soon!” Struggling to hold their liquor. I added mentally, before leaning in to the small girl. “I just want you to know that you have a period stain showing through your shorts.” The girl’s face promptly turned the color of a tomato, and she clutched for her purse, holding it over her lap.

“Anyways,” I chirped, “I’ll see you ladies later!” The girl blurted out something about having to go as I walked away, knowing the others would be following her in no time.

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I’d never tell.

As I lay in bed that night, the time ticked by slowly, and I grew no closer to sleep. My mind replayed the events of that night over and over in my head.

It was a hot night, and I told my parents I was going to bed early. They didn’t question it, I was usually pretty tired after school. I waited in my room until the light in their bedroom went out, then slunk down the stairs and outside to my car.

Hannah and Sara met me at the party. Hannah wore the dress that makes her look a bit like a street walker, but in a good way. Sara was obviously in a push-up bra, as her usually flat chest was swelling with breasts. I looked better than both of them in my sequined top and mini skirt.

After a few beers, we were dancing like crazy, rubbing up against each other, hands thrown in the air. It felt like there was nothing in the world that could kill this high. We were like goddesses, ruling over the party with grace, beauty, and fabulousness. After three more drinks, Hannah had had too much to drink, throwing up in her purse. Sara had driven Hannah and thus felt obligated to leave the party to take her home. They said I should leave too; I didn’t want too. I was on top of the world, why leave now?

I kept dancing after Hannah and Sara left, moving in with a group of guys, letting my body rub on theirs. I knew it drove them crazy; that was the kind of power I loved and needed to have over people. Guys kept handing me drinks and I downed them as fast as they were given. A taller boy took my hand and spun me around in circles. This didn’t mix well with my buzz. I stumbled slightly and fell, the world swimming around me.

I don’t remember a lot after that. Someone must have helped me upstairs because I ended up laying on a bed. I didn’t know where my purse went, but I didn’t really care. I shivered in the cold and reached to pull my skirt down on my legs; it wasn’t there. A light flashed and a hand pushed me back so I was laying down again. Things went black again.

I remember feeling heat and pressure, someone’s body atop mine. I tried to tell them to get off, but they just put their hand over my mouth and told me to be quiet, because I didn’t want anyone to see me. I didn’t know what that meant. I pushed on his bare chest, but it didn’t do any good. He was too strong, and I was weak. He held both of my wrists in one of his hands and I blacked out again.

I woke up the next morning alone in a stranger’s bed, wearing nothing but my bra, a used condom next to me. That was when I knew. I felt like my insides were trying to claw their way out of me, my head was spinning and my heart raced. I wasn’t in control of my own body. I wasn’t in control of anything. That was when I got lost inside of myself.

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I’d never tell.

I didn’t get any sleep Monday night or the rest of that week. My body ached with hunger but I couldn’t force myself to eat. I hadn’t talked to Hannah or Sara since the party, even though they sent me numerous texts. I didn’t bother trying to look nice at school; my ratty sweats suited me just fine. When I showered, I turned the water so hot it made my skin turn red as I stood in the burning stream, staring at the wall, trying to feel something. I had headaches constantly spending much of my days in the nurse’s office.

“Let me taste yours.” My mom shoved her spoon into my frozen yogurt and took a big taste. “That is good. I should have gotten coconut. C'est la vie.” She went back to her own strawberry blend. I took a huge spoonful and shoved the entire thing into my mouth. Yum! Pineapple, coconut, fruity bliss. Then…

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Brainfreeze! You did this to me you woman!” I hissed through clenched teeth.

“Me? How did I do this?” She was laughing at me.

“You bought the Fro-Yo!”

“I wasn’t the stupid girl who shoved a glacier in her mouth.” I snorted at that and melty dairy dripped down my chin. “You got a little…” My mom pointed to my face, where I was trying to hold back both giggles and yogurt. I leaned across the table and gave her a solid shove in the shoulder. She shoved me back.

This was war. I flicked a berry from my ice cream at her and she mimed a brutal death, falling out of her chair onto the floor of the patio.

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I’d never tell.

On Saturday, my mom took me to a movie. I didn't bother getting dressed, wearing the sweats I had slept in. We had both wanted to see it for weeks, and we made a date to watch it the opening weekend long ago. I couldn’t tell her that I didn’t want to go anymore, because she would know something was wrong, so I held back my emotions and went with her. About half way through the movie, there was a night club scene. Flashing lights covered the screen and thumping bass shook my seat. I felt like I was transported back a week to that awful party. I could see myself sitting in the theater seat, shaking, clutching the popcorn for dear life. My heart raced, my palms sweat, and tears rushed down my cheeks. I couldn’t breathe. I choked out something about needing to pee and ran to the bathroom. I sat in the handicapped stall and cried for a half hour before I could go back to the movie. My mom asked what took so long, so I told her there was a line.

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I’d never tell.

My life droned on like this for weeks: not eating, not sleeping, not focusing on school, just getting by. When report cards came out, my parents cracked down on me. I was never a great student, but I always managed a solid B in every class. This semester, the paper was littered with Ds and Fs. My mom said she was disappointed in me. My dad asked if I needed to switch classes. I couldn’t tell them the truth. What would my mom do if she knew I was drinking? What would my dad do if he knew I had had sex? It was better for them if I just didn’t tell them.

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I’d never tell.

“We are worried about you.” Sara and Hannah had walked up to me the Monday after Christmas break, hands on hips.

“Why? I’m fine.” I mumbled the words, shrinking under their stares.

“You haven’t called, you haven’t texted, and you haven’t even looked at either of us since October. You are dressing all weird and you don’t even stay awake in class. When was the last time you showered?” Hannah’s voice was hard, but she was right. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I kept up proper hygiene habits.

“I said I’m fine.” My voice was completely void of emotion.

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I’d never tell.

“We are just really concerned. This isn’t like you!” Sara was speaking softer now, like she was trying to coax a sick animal to eat.

“Why can you not accept that I’m fine?” My voice was louder than I had expected, hasher than I wanted, but now I was going with it. “People change, we grow up and move on.”

“This isn’t growing up.” Sara said solemnly. “This is falling apart.”

“Just leave me alone!”

“You know what, we can’t help you if you won’t let us. You are being a total bitch right now. So whatever. Call us when you want to act like a person again. Or don’t.” Hannah spat the words, grabbed Sara’s arm, and pulled her away.

Sara’s worried, caring eyes would be burned into my mind forever.

It was in February when I began to pass out in my classes. My already thin frame had become skeletal in the past five months. I hadn’t been eating much, and the nurse called me out on it. But what could I say? Not the truth. Not that I had made a mistake and was going crazy in the captivity of my own mind. They would send me away, lock me up. How could anyone love a crazy person? Plus, it was my fault.

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I’d never tell.

It was during my fifth fainting spell that things went bad. I hadn’t woken up for nearly an hour. When I did, I was in the ER, connected to wires and monitors, my parents holding my hand next to me. They wanted to know why I wasn’t eating. What was wrong? Was it body image? They told me I was a beautiful girl. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t tell them.

I pulled out my phone, hoping to pass the time with a simple game of solitaire, but before I could open the app, I was barraged with text messages.

Sara: I heard you are in the hospital

Hannah: U ok? U in the ER? Whats goin on?

Sara: Should I come visit

Hannah: I hope ur ok.

Sara: I brought home your homework for you.

Hannah: Don’t die on me

Sara: Should I come over and feed your dog tonight?

Hannah: Can I com c u?

Sara: I’m scared.

Hannah: I miss u

Sara: I love you

Hannah: ILY so much

I started to cry and put the phone down. After everything I did, how I treated them, how I ignored them, they still cared. I didn’t deserve them.

I shouldn’t tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I wanted to tell.

My mother cried when the doctor said I would need a feeding tube. He recommended sending me into a mental hospital, but just those words sent me into a fit of hysteria. My dad got angry, he yelled at the doctor, at my mother and at me. Things couldn’t get any worse. They needed to know, the truth would be easier than this.

I had to tell.

I couldn’t tell.

I wanted to tell.

My mom left the room, and I could hear her sobbing on the phone to her sister. She always called her sister when things were bad. My dad paced the room back and forth. The nurse drew blood from one of my spindly arms. I cried. My dad started to cry. My mom came back in, she was crying too.

I had to tell.

I needed to tell.

I wanted to tell.

And I told them.