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

head into the theater and I take my seat next to Victory.


“are you okay?” She asks. “You were in there for a while.”


“Yeah, I'm fine.” I reply, taking her hand.


“Okay.” She replies. Worry is visible on her face. I put my first finger under her chin, holding it securely with my thumb.


“Babe, don't worry about me. As long as I have you I will be just fine.” She smiles her perfect smile.


“I love you, Brent.”


“And I love you, Victory.” I lean in and kiss her gently on the lips, what I did only moments ago lingering in the back of my mind. I can feel the scar burning as I pull away from her. My secrets are hidden under the sleeve of a sweatshirt.

Help

Crimson flows from my arm like a sea of blood flowing from a dead body. Red is all I see; pain is all I feel. But I know that the pain wont last long, and it will be replaced by emptiness. My mind will clear, and no haunting memories or horrifying images will replay in my mind.

Two light knocks on my door indicate it's time for breakfast. Jack opens my door and I stand up, following him into the hall. Our walk to the cafeteria is silent this morning, a lot of things on my mind. Its been four days since our trip to the movies and ever since then I have been cutting. I usually do it at night when I know no one will walk in. Victory has not a clue what goes on, and I plan on keeping it that way. Considering it is fall, it gives me an excuse to always wear a sweatshirt. No one questions me and I don't have to offer any answers.

I walk into the cafeteria and head to the line. I grab a tray and place a plate with eggs, bacon and sausage on it. I grab a carton of milk and head to an empty table in the back, the same table Victory and I first sat.

I begin to eat my eggs when a hand touches my shoulder. I look up to see Victory. A half smile touches her lips, not reaching her eyes. Something is wrong.

“Hi.” I say as she takes her seat across from me.

“Hi.” She replies softly. I watch as she looks at her eggs, deciding whether or not to take a bite. I continue eating, not taking my eyes off of her.

“What's wrong?” I finally ask as a long moment of silence passes.

“Nothing.” She replies simply, trying on a smile. I stare into her moss green eyes. They aren't bright like I have become so natural to seeing. They are empty and sad. A hint of fright lies deep within them.

I reach out and touch her hand. She recoils, slipping her hand under the table. She keeps her head down, not looking up to offer an explanation.

“Victory, what is wrong? Don't say it's nothing, because I know you.” The words come out rougher than I intend. She looks up at me, tears threatening to spill over.

“Brent, I...I'm...” She lets out a wale in frustration and buries her face in her hands. Slowly, I stand up and move to sit beside her. I wrap my arm around her and whisper in her ear.

“Victory, whatever it is, I'm here for you. It's going to be okay.” I kiss her lightly on the cheek. My gentle lips find hers and tears escape her eyes. She pulls away quickly and puts her head down. My heart breaks a little bit.

I place my hand under her chin, forcing her took look at me. “Victory...don't. Don't refuse to kiss me, please. I-I can't bare it.” She nods, wiping her eyes. I let my hand fall into her lap, grabbing a hold of her hand.

“I'm sorry. It's just...” She pauses, searching for what to say. “Uh, Mr. Corps got me, um, thinking about some things the other day in group. It kinda made me sad.” Her eyes hold everything but the truth. Her lips speak a lie.

Well, do you want to talk about it?” I ask, hoping she will unveil the truth.

“Not really, sorry. It's just something I have to deal with on my own.” Her eyes wonder from mine, holding a secret deep within them. I know she is lying, that there is something more than what she says. If she doesn't want to talk about it, fine. But I will find out.

I sigh and pull my tray over to me, tearing at a piece of bacon. Victory just stares down at her food, not daring to take a bite.

“You not hungry?” I ask.

“It just doesn't look appetizing.” She smiles a little bit and picks up her tray, heading over to the trash can.

I stare after her, looking for some physical sign of what is wrong. Nothing. Her body sways perfectly and her hair moves slightly as she walks. No physical harm has been done to my beautiful Victory. But if she hasnt harmed herself, like I do, then what could be wrong? What happend? Did a memory of her rapiest come to mind, or an image of her uncaring mother? This I dont know. But I will find out what is wrong, and I will help her.

Everyone needs help at some point in their lives. Wheater they are screaming from the inside or shouting on the outside, they are heard. My blade and the blood that flows from my arm silence the voice that has been screaming "help!" for seventeen years.

No Resolution

*Victory's Point Of View*


What's wrong with me; now that's a question even I would like to know the answer to. Nothing seems right anymore. Being here seems wrong. Having this...this “problem” seems not right. The one thing that does seem right, the one thing in my life that makes any sense is Brent. Even though everything is messed up right now, Brent is the only one I want to talk to, the only one who can help me.

I sit in my room and stare out the barred window. The sky is gray, signaling rain is on its way. Subconsciously, I place my hand on my stomach and begin to think.

My life has ever changed since I met Brent, and it will never change back. I don't want it to change back. However, our adventure last week has caused a serious issue that cannot be resolved. I'm not sure on what to do about the issue, but it can't be reasoned with until Brent and I are out of here.

Three months, I have three months left in here. Nobody must know about my “problem”. I don't even think Brent should know yet. The news would, possibly, ruin him. I can't ruin him, not while he's in here.

There is a faint knock on my door, and I know its Mrs. May coming to get me for therapy. She opens the door softly.

“Victory, its time for therapy.” I nod and stand up, following her out the door. Quietly, we head down the hall to Mr. Jordan's office. Mr. Jordan is one of three therapists here at Spring Hill. Mrs. Scarlett and Mr. Corps are the other two.

Mrs. May opens the door and I walk in. “Victory,” Mr. Jordan says,“take a seat.” I sit down in the gray, soft chair in front of his desk. He smiles and studies me. Mr. Jordan has short black hair that is spiked up in the front and teeth that are pearl white. His skin is an olive color and appears to be soft and smooth. His eyes, mesmerizing, are a dark and deep blue. He's not but twenty and very handsome.

“So, is there anything you would like to talk about?” He asks. Yes! I shout in my head. There is so much I have to say, but certainly can't.

“No.” I say, ignoring the voice in my head telling me to spit it all out.

“Okay. Well, lets start with Brent. I understand you two are getting close, correct?”

I blush and smile slightly. Every time someone mentions Brent, that's what happens. “Um, yeah, we are.”

“How close are you?” Close enough to cause problems, I think to myself. “Really close.” I offer.

He nods. “Tell me a little about your guys relationship.” He says, twirling his pen with his fingers.

“Well, there isn't much to tell.” I reply. “I...I think I love him.” Mr. Jordan nods and writes something down on his paper. My palms begin to sweat and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. What if he knows my secret? What if he figured it out? Would he tell? “Um, can I go now?” I ask, fidgeting with my fingers.

“But we just got started.” He replies, giving me a worried glance. “I know, but...” I stutter as I begin to stand up, heading for the door. “I-I have to go. I-I cant...” I trail off, running for the bathroom. I find a stall and throw up. I shake while kneeling next to the toilet, holding my hair back.

"No," I whisper, begining to cry. "No," I repeat again. I let my hair fall and rest my cheek against the cold tile floor. Everything becomes a blur as my eyes flutter shut.

Secrets Are Always Kept

People always keep secrets, wheater they promise not to or not. The people you love the most, the ones that you should share everything with, hide the most shocking secrets of all.

Victory is hiding a secret, I can feel it. She barely talks to me anymore and wont let me put my hands around her waist or touch her the slightest. I cant tell what it is, but I know its something.

I am laying on my bed, my hands behind my head when I hear voices. There are panic-filled voices shouting. I sit up in my bed and cock my head to one side as if that will help me here any better. They get closer and closer. I hear Jack's voice saying something to Mrs. May. Before I know it he is opening my door.

"Brent," He breathes, worry visible on his aged face. "Come, its Victory."

As soon as he says her name, Im off the bed and across the room. I follow him out the door and down the hall to the girl's bathroom. He puts his hand out and stops me before I enter the bathroom.

"Wait here," He orders.

"No! Victory is in there and she needs me! What's wrong with her?" The words are thick with acid, anger forming in my gut.

"She fainted, Brent. I just need to make sure Mrs. May will let you come in." He replies. I ignore him, the anger now boiling, and stride my way into the bathroom.

The scene that unfolds before my eyes shocks me. Victory is on the floor, vomit all around her. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are watery. Then I notice she is crying. Her lips are moving but I cant hear her words.