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Silent Jealousy |
| Written by Britt Howie | |
| Saturday, 01 March 2008 | |
“Promise you won’t ever do that again,” he wrote in his first letter to me. Just the way he looked at me when he handed it to me made my heart melt, and what he wrote made me want to get better, to be happier. The only exception to his parents’ no dating rule was the fall formal- homecoming. Tori and Zack were going together, and she asked if Elliott was going to ask me. “I’m waiting for him to. I don’t want to force him to do something he really doesn’t want to.” “I’ll call him for you! And call you back in like ten,” Tori exclaimed. “Tor! NO!” Click. Too late. Elliott was going to think I was immature, that I couldn’t talk to him about this myself. Ten minutes passed. Each time the phone rang, I’d jump at it hoping that Tori would be on the other end, but she didn’t call. Ring…Ring… Elliott’s name came up on the caller ID. Rin-the third ring was interrupted; someone had picked it up. I prayed that his mom was calling mine. Slim chance of that! “Samantha!” Mom’s voice raced down the stairs and my face turned white. “The phone’s for you!” “Got it, Mom,” I said through the receiver, and she hung up her line. “Hello?” I hesitated through the phone. The day we first met ran through my mind. I looked across the room at him. Didn’t even know his name yet, but I knew he was the boy I was going to marry-my soul mate. He didn’t know this of course. No second grade boy’s mind thinks that far in advance. I survived the next four years on days of church. The only time I got to see him. The day finally came when we would attend middle school- together! Still our encounters were scarce and consumed by his two friends, Mike and Zack. I joined then at parties, but Elliott seemed to be having more fun teasing Mike and Tori, who liked him. Finally, I’d hung out with them enough to be considered a friend. When we were nearing the end of our eighth grade year, Elliott decided he’d fallen in love with me as well. We never defined our relationship for its true form, but everyone knew what was going on. I’d waited for my chance to be his girl for so long. “Hi,” Elliott replied. I knew Tori had talked to him. Was he going to ask me? Tonight? Over the phone? We went on talking as usual. Like Tori and I hadn’t just been talking about him, like he and Tori hadn’t just been talking about me. My heart, pounding like a drum, must’ve been audible. Elliott, being in the top ten of our class, frequently helped me with homework. Tonight was going to be one of those nights. “Are you busy?” “Not really. Just working on homework, this algebra stuff isn’t easy or fun.” “I can help you. What’s the problem?” “Umm… it says, ‘simplify x to the fifth in parentheses to the third times x to the sixteenth.” “Alright. Multiply the three and five and stick that in the exponent of the first x.” “So, x to the fifteenth times x to the sixteenth.” “Right. Then you need to- “Sam,” my dad interrupted through the phone, “have you finished your homework, yet?” “Elliott’s helping me with it, daddy.” “Ok. Make sure you get it done, though.” “I will.” Click. “Anyways. You need to add the two exponents.” “Fifteen and sixteen. Thirty-one. X to the thirty first. Why can’t my teacher make it that easy?” “Umm… I don’t know. I have to go. My aunt’s calling for my mom.” “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for helping me.” “Yup.” “Bye,” I said, my voice softer, gentler. I hung up the phone, disappointed. Putting on my happy face, I quickly dialed Tori’s number. “Thanks for calling me back!” I said, sarcastically. “I knew he was going to call you, so I figured you’d just call me back when you got off the phone with him.” “What’d he say?” we inquired perfect rhythm. “He just told me that he doesn’t know,” Tori announced. Something in her voice told me she was lying, but I decided that I was just wishing that he’d tell her or at least given her a hint. “Oh,” I replied. I was back at the beginning. “We didn’t talk for long ‘cause his aunt called for his mom, but he helped me with homework. Neither one of us said anything about the dance.” “Sam, I think you just need to mention it to him.” “I can’t do that, Tor! I have a hard enough time trying to talk to him about serious things.” “You’re funny. I don’t understand why you guys are sorta dating if you can’t really talk.” I don’t know. Hey, I have to go. I need to get this homework done. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow.” “Ok. See you bright and early!” “Yeah, yeah. Bye.” Click. She never says, “Bye.” When I saw Elliott the next morning, I felt like I was going to lose my breakfast. He walked over to me as usual. Not a beam of awkwardness in his eyes, that ever present air of confidence about him. He knew that Tori had called him right after talking to me- probably thought I prodded her to do so. He handed me a letter written in his perfect handwriting. Funny how we talked about everything- through letters. “I truly had a reason for calling you last night,” He wrote. “You know I don’t just call very often. “Anyway, will you go to the homecoming dance with me?” Dang his aunt! I wish I’d heard his voice when he asked me. If he was going to be too shy and ask me through a letter, then I was going to answer through a letter. I was also too shy to just go up to him anyways. When the day came, I went to my hair appointment, braids like rows of corn on the top of my head and curls in my long, auburn hair. The dress I’d gotten was a hand-me-down from my cousin. It was tasteful, but not exactly what I had wanted. Plain and black, too boring for me; something to wear to a funeral. We ate dinner at Tori’s house, and had pictures taken on her front porch. When Elliott’s mom called him and I back inside, I got my hopes up. A rectangular box was thrust toward me from Elliott’s shaking hands. Inside lay a single butter yellow carnation surrounded by white baby’s breath and a cream ribbon tightly bound with an elastic wrist band. My first corsage. Being shy freshmen, we spent the first half hour standing around, making small talk even through the slow songs- songs during which I could’ve held him. Eventually, Zack mustered up the courage to ask Tori to dance. Everyone coupled off leaving Elliott and I standing there alone and embarrassed. Tori knew I wanted to share a dance with him, and must’ve informed Zack. They stopped dancing, and, standing on either side of us, pushed us together. We backed away, but when he saw the disappointment in my face, he knew. He drew close placing his hands on either side of my waist, my hands behind the nape of his neck, my head on his shoulder. Spinning because nothing else mattered. His breathing fell in sync with mine, in sync with the music. * * * * * * * My mind wandered. “Sammi,” My dad started on the way to school, “I really think he likes you, and by the way you talk about him, I know you like him as well.” “How do I go about dealing with this then?” “Elliott is a good, godly boy. I trust he’ll allow God to lead him toward the right answer if what I think about this situation is true. Maybe you can talk to him about it.” Talk to him? About this? Oh no! I wasn’t so sure I was ready to admit feelings to him just yet. * * * * * * * We held strong, though people lost faith in us over the next two months. They got sick of us being together all the time as they would say. We only ever saw each other between classes and at lunch. Maybe an hour each day. Their reasoning was just childish. Tori even had the audacity to write him a letter confessing her love for him and suggesting he end our unofficial relationship and start dating her- officially. Though she cautioned him against telling me, he did just that. We needed to get through the hard times together just like we’d gone through the easy ones. It was just a trial that we knew we would prevail. “I love you,” he assured me, but I was astonished by her betrayal. The next summer, we went on, though seeing each other only once each week was challenging. Our relationship too new to be talking on the phone every night. We’d talk, most times late at night. His parents would not approve when they found out. They were rather strict about having a set dating age of sixteen. As outgoing freshmen, we were only fifteen, a year too young. His parents would figure out the actuality of the situation, eventually. I tried everything to keep the candle burning, but the flame had gone out, the cinders cold. It ultimately died when we went to summer camp, the three of us. Not that he told me that; we had always had problems with communicating. He had promised months ago to go horseback riding with me, and I told him I’d try archery with him. When I went to sign us up for each activity, his name was already on the list in her swirly handwriting, her name scribbled underneath his. “Mom, I want to come home,” I told her that night on the phone. “Sam, I know this is hard for you. Elliott’s just not the right guy. He’s not good enough for you. I believe you need to stay at camp for the remainder of the week. This is a growing experience for you.” I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to grow. I liked the comfort of where I was at one point. The only solution I could find for the rest of the week was to avoid them at all cost. I didn’t need that pain being rubbed in my face. After returning home, I fell into depression. The blood leaked from my veins through the small sting on my wrists. Within the next two weeks of summer, I lost twenty pounds. I couldn’t eat. Why should I have enjoyed food when I lost Elliott because of not being as pretty as Tori? When school started again, I weighed one hundred pounds, too light for a junior girl, but no one said anything. The first week of school was hell. It passed by too slowly, and everyone was talking about me, about Elliott and Tori. Could they not see my pain? I went home that Friday. My locker cleaned out. Not a trace left of me in the school. Saturday morning, I woke up knowing today was the day I had to do it. My parents were at my brother’s basketball game, and I knew I’d be home alone- how perfect. Tearing the house apart, I found my dad’s pistol. The cold barrel pressed against my temple. I pulled the trigger and fell to the ground. Ring… Ring… Ring… Ring. “You’ve reached Janie, Brian, Sam, and Alex. We’re not home. Leave a message, and we’ll call you back.” Beep. “Sam… I don’t know what I was thinking. My relationship with Tori was just an infatuation. You were on my mind during that whole three months. I need to talk to you. I want us to work things out. Please call me back. I love you.” My family came home, giggling from a winning game for Alex again. Dad pushed the play button on the machine and immediately knew something was wrong. “Samantha? Why didn’t you answer the phone?” my dad called down the stairs. “Maybe she’s still asleep, Brian.” My mom tried reassuring herself more than him. She knew I wasn’t a late sleeper, and I couldn’t have been out with my friends. Ever since camp, I’d cut myself off from them. They thought Elliott and Tori were a good couple. She stole my place! Clomping to the basement, Alex stopped halfway. “DAD! MOM! SAM’S…” My brother tried to form the word, but nothing would come out. They rushed to him, then my dad rushed to me. Feeling for a pulse, but there was none. Elliott would never know the pain. This is our story, our love. My suicide.
Copyright 2008 Britt Howie |
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