*Names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Chapter One – Maybe I Don't Want to Be Saved

June 13th – 10:54 P.M.

Dear Niño,

I am writing to tell you all that I wish I could say to you in person at this moment. I just poured out my heart to you in a text, which you have yet to respond to. It has only been twenty minutes, but still; waiting even this long for an answer has been torturous. You may have fallen asleep, or you may have just ignored the message. I cannot decide which would be more upsetting at this point. You seemed awake enough on the phone, not very long ago, so that makes me worry.

So I feel I must address what you have told me tonight, however painful it may prove to be for me. I know you say these things because you care, but right now I can't see that, right now it hurts, enough to write this, enough to make me want to lock myself away, removed from all connections to the outside world. Removed from you and all the other habitual button-pushers that will not let me be. Okay, now, on to business. Forty minutes. I'm fairly sure that I won't get an answer from you tonight.

First, you said you agreed with your parents, who do not think you can “save” me from the situation I am presently involved in. To which I responded with something a bit extreme and sarcastic, because it hurt to feel you've lost faith in me. Sorry. I don't understand why you all care so much. I realize I complain a lot about my house and family, but why such an extreme interest in me and my “bad” situation? It could be much worse than it is, I realize that.

The simple solution to this is that I will, from this moment on, not say a word to you or them about my family, unless it becomes necessary that I mention them. I may not look like it, but I do care deeply for them, despite the degree in which they annoy me sometimes. First problem solved: I'll keep my complaints to myself, as I should have from the start. I can handle that much at least. Also, when did it become your sole responsibility to “save me”, as you put it. Maybe I don't need you for that purpose, maybe I can take care of it, did you even consider that?

And maybe I don't want to be saved.

11:35 P.M.

This problem has me wide awake, despite my exhaustion not long ago. I am not happy about that, but there is nothing that can be done until I finish writing this.

You say you want to save me, yet you agree with your parents that it may not be possible. What a contradiction in terms. Who decided upon a meeting to air my problems, and try to make them seem even more unsolvable? And why wasn't I notified of this? In future, if it involves me, I would appreciate being let in on the conversation. Or better yet, if you have a “thought” in your head about how I should run my life, I strongly suggest that you keep it to yourself. Because I am tired of hearing what I should or should not do with my life, and especially tired of hearing it from you, and from the ones I most care about. Even if you have good intentions, you all mean well, I know... Back off and live your own lives, get your hands off of mine and let me breathe.

And then you went on to say that I am trying, just not hard enough sometimes, in your opinion. And you want to “get me out”, you say. How do you know how hard I try unless you're me? How would you know how it feels to exhaust every option and be beat down by your own logical conclusions at the end of the day? As I texted you, which you still haven't responded to, I have done everything in my power that there is to do, and beyond that I am irrevocably lost. I truly do not know what should come next, I'm all out of ideas. They don't tend to write manuals on this, on how to deal with a situation like mine. I may have to write it myself, as I go, play it by ear since plans seem to like to fail in the wrong hands: mine.

So it is now 12:51 A.M. My face is red from crying, on and off, before and during writing this letter. It is not worth the tears I have shed but I cannot help it. I must depart now, get some stretch of sleep before I see you tomorrow. If I get to see you at all, that is. I may just oversleep. Who knows what could happen.

[1 A.M.]

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