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    Clear Cut

    Page 7
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      and pretty,

      and looks

      a little sad.

      “I spoke

      with Josie

      this morning,” she tells me.

      “How is she?”

      “She asked

      to speak with me—”

      “Is she okay?”

      “—about you.”

      “What?”

      “Heather,

      please.

      Roll up your sleeves.”

      MY WORLD SPINS AWAY

      I feel

      like someone

      ice-bucketed

      me.

      But also

      like I am

      on fire.

      I want to

      scream die

      confess cry.

      I am

      ashamed by

      betrayed for

      exposed of

      saved from

      my

      deep

      dark

      dirty

      secret.

      I roll up my sleeves.

      I pull up my shirt.

      I even describe my legs.

      THINGS YOU CAN DO

      INSTEAD OF CUTTING

      Ms. Turner’s list

      is ridiculous:

      listen to loud music

      jump rope

      chop wood

      snap a rubber band

      against your wrist

      tie a red string

      around your wrist

      use a red marker

      hold an ice cube.

      But Ms. Turner seems so

      hopeful

      optimistic

      honest

      kind…

      that I promise

      to try.

      WEIRD FEELING

      I’m kind of waiting

      to feel

      like cutting

      so I can see if

      I can make myself

      not feel

      like cutting.

      TREY SAYS

      “Probably I should have

      told someone.

      But I would have felt

      like a snitch.”

      Paige says, “Is this

      over a boy?

      Because I

      will kill him!”

      Liv says, “…but how could I know that?

      Cooper said

      girls who do that

      are nuts,

      but you’re not.

      You’re my friend.”

      Liv’s mom says, “Remember

      when I told you

      you’re always welcome here?

      You still are.”

      MY Mom says “Honey, I’m sorry,

      I’m so sorry,

      so sorrysorrysorry…”

      DAD SAYS…

      goodbye.

      Ms. Turner

      had to tell them.

      The law made her.

      They met

      more than once,

      my parents

      and this counselor.

      They decided

      our house is

      toxic

      divided unhappy

      a trigger.

      So now,

      Dad will just visit.

      DAD PROMISES…

      that our development

      is suing

      Josie’s father.

      And will identify

      other plots

      with a high chance

      of being

      clear cut.

      These plots

      will then

      be guarded

      and monitored.

      Like I did.

      Only better.

      He tells me

      who to talk to

      to make sure

      I’m part of the team.

      He promises,

      and I believe him.

      Because back in May,

      he didn’t even promise.

      And he still came

      to see me read.

      THEPLAYS

      get produced

      in spite of

      everything.

      And people come

      to see them,

      even Cooper.

      I end up

      taking

      Josie’s roles,

      which is weird

      but seems right.

      (Even though

      she hasn’t

      been in touch

      to ask.)

      The acting coach

      was all about it.

      “I don’t know why

      they didn’t send you

      to the acting track.

      I guess

      you’ll just have

      to come back.”

      THE HARDEST PART

      may be the scars.

      No amount

      of cocoa butter

      can hide the fact

      that I’m a cutter.

      “You were a cutter,”

      Ms. Turner

      corrects me.

      She says to

      accept that I did it,

      but to think

      of cutting

      as something I

      used to do.

      A phase.

      Like ketchup sandwiches,

      or blue hair…

      “Or a bad tattoo

      that I later regret?”

      “Some people actually

      cover those scars

      with tattoos,” she says.

      “But you didn’t

      hear that

      from me.” Wink, wink.

      TREY AND I

      are having lunch

      the last day

      of camp.

      “I’ve got

      a lot

      of stories

      about animals,

      if you ever want to,

      like, call me

      or anything.”

      Dawson

      wanders past us

      “Ohmygod, dude.

      Kiss her

      already!”

      Trey’s smile

      goes crooked

      and his face

      gets bright.

      Probably not

      as bright as mine,

      though.

      “What kind

      of stories?”

      MAMA BEAR

      “Well, like

      there’s one

      about this bear.

      There’s this little kid

      who gets trapped

      in a cave

      and left

      to die

      by his nasty

      stepfather.

      But Gluscabi—that’s our

      Great Chief, right?

      Our protector?

      He sends

      his little buddy

      Porcupine

      into the cave

      to help.

      Porcupine, like,

      glows his eyes

      at the kid

      and somehow

      that calms him down.”

      “Really?

      I’d freak out

      more.”

      “Right?

      Anyway, Porcupine

      calls out to all the forest critters

      to come move

      this boulder.

      And they all show up!

      Like it’s a party

      or something.

      Wolf, raccoon,

      caribou, turtle,

      possum, rabbit,

      squirrel,

      and too many

      birds to list.

      Most of them,

      why even bother?

      Maybe they were

      placing bets

      or something.

      Of course,

      they all try,

      and they all fail,

      and a lot of them

      get hurt.

      Then finally,

      this Mama Bear

      shows up and

      moves

      the stupid rock.”

      IS THAT IT?

      “I feel like

      there’s more.”

    &n
    bsp; “There is.”

      “What’s the rest?”

      “It’s really long.”

      “You don’t

      remember.”

      He shakes his head.

      “I better relearn

      this stuff.

      I’m Native.

      I’m supposed to be

      All Wise

      or some nonsense.”

      He pauses,

      like he’s

      deciding something.

      “I was just thinking,

      you were kind of like

      Josie’s bear.

      Like, all the other animals tried,

      but only the bear

      could free her.

      But then,

      you’re kind of like

      the kid, too.

      And Ms. Turner

      is your bear.”

      I finally

      can’t help it.

      I start laughing.

      “I know.

      It’s a mess.

      Plus, my dad’s

      going to kick my butt

      if he finds out

      I forgot all this stuff!

      But I think

      you were good

      for Josie.

      I think

      you helped her.

      And I’ll

      bet she’s glad.

      Someday,

      somehow…

      she’ll let you know.”

      THE OTHER HARDEST PART

      We have been working

      on my “triggers.”

      Things that make me

      want to hurt myself.

      I say:

      Ms. Turner translates:

      my parents fighting

      lack of security

      Liv’s

      feeling

      SUCKTASTIC

      left out or

      “boyfriend”

      “isolated”

      clear cutting

      lack of control

      in my development

      “climate anxiety”

      What?

      This work sucks!

      Ms. Turner says

      I need to be aware

      of my triggers

      when school starts.

      She also says

      I have to tell people

      what I think

      and how I feel

      for real.

      AUGUST

      (RUBBER BAND)

      Ms. Turner’s list

      actually helps.

      I’ve gotten most

      of my “triggers”

      under control.

      But sometimes

      I want

      an outlet.

      SEPTEMBER (Red Marker)

      Ms. Turner and I

      have talked

      about being scared,

      feeling helpless,

      having no control.

      OCTOBER (Chop Wood)

      We have talked

      about wanting

      to die.

      Feeling suicidal.

      NOVEMBER ( … )

      I don’t want to die.

      I was never suicidal.

      DECEMBER ( … )

      I am not Josie.

      I was never Josie.

      I could have been.

      But I got lucky.

      THE SNOW BALL

      Our yearly

      December dance.

      Like last year,

      Liv wants to go.

      She has a date.

      A real date.

      He is taking her

      for dinner

      before the dance

      and he

      (well, his dad)

      is driving.

      I have a date, too.

      Liv told Trey

      about it

      (of course she did)

      and he asked

      if he could take me.

      So I said yes.

      JUST LOVE & PEACE

      When he called

      about the dance,

      Trey asked me

      about Josie.

      I’ve been afraid

      to check,

      but tonight

      I decide

      it’s time.

      LPRB has a new name:

      JLP

      There is just one video.

      I press play.

      There is Sophie,

      but with no veil

      and no voice effects.

      There is Josie.

      “Hi. You guys

      know me

      as Sophie, and I am.

      (It’s short

      for Josephine.)

      Except from now on,

      I’m Josie.

      A lot of the advice

      that Sophie gave you,

      I’ve learned

      it was bad.

      I spent the summer

      in this magical place

      and made this

      great friend and…

      screwed up bad.”

      Josie starts crying,

      but calms herself.

      “Listen:

      I said before

      not to tell your parents.

      That was wrong.

      I’m saying today:

      Find someone,

      any one person

      you can trust

      and talk to them.

      Let them help you.

      When you get

      good help,

      it feels amazing.

      It’s the biggest relief

      in the world,

      even

      better

      than

      cutting.”

      LOVE, PEACE, & HEALING

      I wonder

      if Josie

      will be okay.

      If this will be

      for her

      like it was

      for me:

      a phase.

      Something

      that we will

      look back on…

      I don’t think

      we will laugh.

      Even seeing

      her scars,

      I didn’t understand

      that her pain

      ran so deep.

      Can a person

      ever

      escape that?

      I like to think so.

      I like to think

      she’ll learn to cope

      and maybe even

      get famous!

      I hope

      she does.

      I open

      the comments

      and leave her

      a note:

      Dear Josie,

      We hurt ourselves,

      and now

      someone is going to help us

      heal and feel better.

      Love and peace

      from the Most Northeast

      It Started

      with a yes.

      A yes

      that slipped

      easily

      from my lips.

      Would you girls want to

      meet up later?

      We could all go out

      on Nate’s dad’s boat?

      Jay’s green eyes

      were both

      nervous and eager.

      His voice was

      low and soft.

      Like the moon

      s u s p e n d e d

      over the water.

      A small doubt

      like a mosquito

      tickled the back of my neck.

      But it was carried away

      by the sweet-smelling

      air of the deep blue Florida night.

      Moonlight

      gives me courage.

      But Eva looked unsure.

      Don’t worry, Jay laughed.

      You girls will be safe with us.

      We’re locals, remember? He winked.

      We know what we’re doing.

      My excitement

      was like static electricity.

      If anyone touched

      my skin,

      their hair

      would stand

      on end.

     
    ; Yes! I squealed.

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Melody Dodds is a chemist and former substitute teacher. In addition to this book, she is the author of another verse novel, Little Pills. She shares her home with two cats and one husband, and is building a foil ball exclusively from candy wrappers. It is currently the size of a small pumpkin.

     

     

     



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