Love Is A Form Of Suicide by Jimm Tumbly (book club reads .TXT) 📖

cry.

"You dont have to tell me if you dont want to." She whispers. "But Im a good listener."

I pull away from her and look into her eyes. They are a beautiful moss green. Her eyes glisten like diamonds. I cant help my next move. I place my hands on either side of her face and lean in, kissing her softly on the lips. She kisses back with little hesitation. When I realize what Im doing I pull away.

"Im sorry." I mumble, standing up. I begin to walk to the door.

"Brent, wait!" Victory calls after me. I turn and she runs over to me. She kisses me once more. I pull away, gently pushing her back.

"Victory, I cant." I say.

"Why not? You just kissed me." I liked Victory a lot and that was the problem. These feelings, they were foreign to me. I had never felt this way about any girl. I was afraid that if I kissed her and let my feelings for her come out, it wouldnt be just a hit and get anymore. I would be in love with a freak.

Reasons Are Masked Excuses

When I was little I used to look up at the bright moon when I couldnt sleep. I would ask my mom, can we go there some day? She said that it was hard to get to the moon, and we could only do it during our dreams. I had told her I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. That I wanted to go to the moon and get away from here, because this place was scary. The place I was talking about was my life.

"Okay, so today I want everybody to share one thing about them that we dont already know. What are your hobbies, favorite band, something like that." Mr. Corps says. I keep my head down, staring at my feet.

I am in group and Victory is sitting across from me. I dont want to look up into her moss green eyes and see the pain Ive caused her. I could see the sadness and confusion in them the other day when I pushed her away.

"Victory, how about you start us off." I dont look up as she begins to speak.

"I was a cheerleader before I came here. The popular girl in school, someone everybody loved. I didnt have many true friends that I could talk to. But whenever I started to like someone, they would push me away." She replies. I look up into her eyes. Our eyes are locked, and I cant look away. I know shes talking about me.

"Brent, do you have something to say?" Mr. Corps asks, watching us stare at each other.

"Um, yeah. I, uh, was on the football and basketball team. I was popular as well. I had tons of friends. We would hang out, go to parties. I would have a different girl each week, hooking up with them left and right. But when one got too close, I would push them away. I was always affraid of getting hurt. I mean, my mother hurt me, why shouldnt anyone else?" I reply. Victory looks at me, understanding in her eyes. She's still angry with me, but she sort of understands.

"And how did your mother hurt you, Brent?" I peel my eyes from Victory's, now staring at Mr. Corps.

"She just did." I reply, not wanting to talk about it.

"She must have hurt you bad for you not to be able to trust another girl." I cross my arms and sit back in my chair.

"Yeah. But it doesnt matter, its over now." I look back down. My eyes are getting blurry with tears.

"Brent, you can talk to us. We are all your friends." I look up abruptly.

"None of you are my friends. You dont understand what I went through!" My voice grows louder as I speak. "My mom claimed to care about me. But she never once stopped him as he hit me, or beat me with the belt! She never once cared, so why should anyone else?" Tears are falling down my cheeks. I glance at Victory. Shock is written all over her face. I jump up and run out, sprinting to Mrs. Scarlett's office.

I burst through the door and she looks up. She notices me crying.

"Brent, what's wrong?" She asks, dropping her pen.

"My dad used to beat me and my mom. He would come home drunk and take all his rage out on us. One time he took a baseball bat and hit me with it. He didnt stop until my back bled." I am crying heavily now, the memories flooding my brain. "He stabbed my mom when I was ten. Stabbed her right in the stomach. My grandma took her to the emergency room and she told the doctor she ran into the edge of the counter. He didnt believe her, but what could he do?"

Mrs. Scarlett stands up and walks over to me. She wraps her arms around me.

"Brent, its okay." She whispers.

"He's why I shot myself. The day before I did it he almost killed my mother. When I came home from school she was lying on the floor with blood coming from her head. He had hit her with a pan because she didnt have something ready for him to eat."

Mrs. Scarlett holds me for a minute, allowing me to cry on her shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?" She finally asks.

I pull away. "Yeah, I think Im ready." We both take a seat and I begin to explain.

After my dad would beat me he would come in my room. He would tell me his reasoning for hitting me. It was always something like he just got mad and he was sorry or he had a rough day at work and had to take it out on somebody. He told me to grow up and take it like a man or else I would never amount to anything. That's what I told Mrs. Scarlett.

Everyone has a reason for something. It doesnt matter what it is, its just a masked excuse. A reason is an excuse given to hide the lies they say. They want you to think they are perfect. When the truth is, nobody can ever be perfect until you admit you are imperfect.

Death Is What I Look Forward To

*Victorys Point Of View*

I cant remember the last time I saw my dad. I had to have been 3. Thats how old I was when he left my mom and I. He kicked us out and my mom was forced to live with my grandma until she found a small, one bedroom, beat up house in the projects.

My mom claims that she loves me, but she never once stopped to listen to me or chose me over the filthy men she sleeps with. She ignores my cries for help, shuts out the pain visible in my eyes. So when I finally had it, I down a bottle of oxycotton on my birthday. I thought it was a good time to go since it was also the day I was born. But my mother came home early from "work". I wouldnt consider prostituting a job. She found me on the floor of the bathroom and rushed me to the emergency room. Unfourtunatly, they saved my life. Now Im stuck here in Spring Hill Mental Hospital.

When I first came to Spring Hill I hated it. The food was disgusting, the people were crazy. But then I met Brent Skyes. Brent is amazing. He makes me laugh, makes me smile. For once in my life, Im happy.

But then he pushes me away. He wont allow me inside, wont let me help him. He just puts up more walls as soon as I brake one down.

"Victory, time for lunch." Mrs. May says, opening my door. I stand up and follow her out the door. Im starving, but not looking forward to what they have to eat.

Mrs. May leads me down the hall to the cafeteria. I thank her and walk inside, many of the crazies already seated. I sigh and get in line for something to eat. Tonight they are serving spagehtti and meatballs. Its not bad, but would taste better with some salt. I grab a tray and a plate of spagehtti, making my way through the line. I grab an apple and a bottle of water, looking for somewhere to sit.

I notice Brent sitting in the very back corner by his self. I wonder how he is doing. This afternoon in group he ran out crying. I want to go talk to him, but Im affraid he will push me away. I decide to take a chance and walk over to his table. I sit across from him and he doesnt look up.

"Ive sat alone by myself plenty of times. It just adds to the crazy." I say, reciting the first words he spoke to me. He looks up with at me. "Hey psycho." I say quietly. A hint of a smile touches his lips.

"Hey freak." He mumbles. My heart jumps and I cant help but smile. The sound of his voice makes me go crazy. I want so bad to reach across the table and take his hand in mine, but I dont.

"are you okay? It seemed like something was bothering you at group today, and then you ran out." He doesnt speak for a while.

"When I was little I used to watch my dad beat my mom. Then when I was ten he started to beat me. He used to beat me until I bled. My mom never helped me, but always said she was sorry. She claimed she loved me, but I dont know whether or not to believe her." He replies.

I dont speak. My eyes fill with tears and I want to wrap him in my arms. Some how, I can feel the pain hes feeling.

"My dad left my mom and I when I was three. We moved into this tiny, one bedroom house. My mom started to prostitute to pay the rent. She had a boyfriend every other week. When I was 13 one of her boyfriends Antonio started to rape me. I tried to tell my mom, but she didnt listen. It contiued for another year before they split. Then a few months ago her new boyfriend, Mark, started to rape me again. Thats why I tried to kill myself."

Brent doesnt speak for a while. Then he does something I dont expect. He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his.

"Victory, Ive been pushing people away my whole life. Ive always been affraid to get too close to someone. But I dont want to do that anymore. Your special to me and I knew you would be since the day I first looked into your beautiful moss green eyes. Will you please forgive me?"

I smile. "How could I not? Brent Skyes, your amazing and very special to me too." He laughs and smiles, still holding my hand.

I guess today marks the day when my life turned around. The day I was truely happy.


Family Is Just A Word

Family. What does it mean? Is it people who care and love you? Who would never harm you, and take