"Resolutions, Part One" Furious Hail smiled with perverse glee as Miss Madsen's class started. Ivory Tran was not in school. Ancelin Yi was. She had surprised her father by coming to school early, though if he knew her ulterior motive, he would've kept her home as long as possible. The day had finally arrived. Now all she need do was wait for the proper moment. After school hours, she had planned, after Ancelin's kendo club ended, it would take place. She would attend and endure it, and then conclude her relationship with Miss Yi. It would be done then, later that day—she had waited long in order to do it without Ivory's interference. Soon, yes—soon. It would all happen soon. Hail could not concentrate in art class. Mrs. Keys noticed the difference in her student, and tried to pry time away from her teaching to talk. All she could get from the dark, twisted young woman was that she was "in a good mood for a change", and "couldn't wait for later". She gave her favorite teacher a hyena's smile, unsettling her a little. Keys advised Hail to not get into more trouble than she could handle, and was dismissed with a grateful, confident wave. Corona Marcos was not fooled by the outer appearance: something ill brewed beneath that façade, but what? She had a bad feeling about this. Hail endured the rest of her day as best she could, but got impatient before long. Several what-if scenarios came to mind, each one making her more nervous than the last. What if Ancelin should cancel her class and go home early? What if Ivory came to school in the middle of the day? What if somebody suspected her, like Keys or Madsen, or Leena, who got involved in many of her student's lives? What if, what if... Katt doubled over and supported herself on her knees and inhaler. She was pushing herself so hard, both in music and in gym, and she was paying for it. Leena rubbed her back and asked everyone to wait. Poor Katt looked embarrassed and useless, but Leena encouraged her and urged her to stay. Hail frowned as she watched the two, and felt sick. Could they please, she thought, take their little date somewhere else? Katt finally got her second wind, put her support device away, and gave a pathetic smile. Deep in her cold stone heart, Alexandra Blair wanted to take the older girl in her arms and hold her so gently... "Okay, back to business!" Leena shouted. It disturbed her thoughts and pushed them away. Hail got chosen to be on Ancelin's team for basketball. She hated the sport, and playing with Ancelin made her feel all the more ill and upset. For her part, Ancelin regarded Hail with the same casual indifference she regarded everyone else. Their "friendship" had gone south quickly once Ivory broke up with her, and hearing how the wild woman swooned over "Annie" made Hail's insides churn. The game came and went without flair, with her team winning by a few points. Kathlyn looked excited that she had actually played a sport and was still on her feet. A few of the girls congratulated her. Finally, gym class ended, and those in Ancelin's kendo class remained. They all went outside to the large empty field, and Hail followed, pleased that so far, her plan had not encountered any bumps. She brought her backpack with her, and double-checked inside. If anybody asked about the glass bottle she had, she would just say it was for lunch and P.E., and let the truth handle itself (to be safe, she had filled it with water early on, and had almost emptied it by then). She set her pack aside and tried her very hardest to get involved in the exercises Ancelin taught. More girls were there than before, but not in the record numbers that had once graced the fields. The class was roughly an hour long and over with quickly, concluding with Ancelin giving everyone a cordial smile farewell, and telling them to take care and be safe. Hail nearly gagged. Could that woman be any more unbearable? She was alone with Ancelin soon, and wandered over to her bag to nonchalantly pluck out the bottle. She made a show of finishing the few drops of water and waved to her "friend". "Lin, how goes it?" she asked dumbly. Ancelin gave her an unemotional stare and merely shrugged. "Still hangin' around that Ivory chick? You not take my warning?" "Uh, no comment." Hail shook her head, dumped the rest of the water on the ground, and decided that, before Ancelin could swing her bag over her shoulder and walk home, she would make her move—a move she had been planning, waiting for, and anticipating ever since Ivory broke her heart and left her for the stupid whore before her. It began with something a little silly, a tug at the girl's curiosity, of all things. "Hey, Lin, c'mere, I got something to show you." Ancelin walked over and let her bag fall. She crossed her arms and looked around, then peeked inside Hail's bag. While she was distracted, Furious Hail looked around and checked her surroundings for any signs of company. As far as she could see, she and Ancelin were alone. Her plan was going better than she could hope, so it was time to swing it into motion. Hail resigned herself to whatever fate would have in store for her, and took a swing at Ancelin's face. Ancelin fell to the ground, stunned. Hail fluidly flipped her empty bottle in the air and smashed it against a rock she had planted earlier that morning. It broke into shards, leaving the glass with a jagged butt. While Ancelin was still down and nursing her wound, Hail walked over to her, anger flaring through her nostrils, and slapped her so hard that she tumbled to the ground again. She clawed at Ancelin's prize chestnut hair and squeezed tightly, making the taller woman grimace in pain. She jerked the broken bottle directly under her neck, slapped her again, and spat in her face. "I'll kill you!" she screamed, and Ancelin screamed too. She whimpered as her throat brushed up against the sharp teeth of the broken bottle, and struggled weakly. Hail slapped her again, spat, and nearly yanked all her hair out as she clawed and tugged, keeping the woman's head still. "I'll kill you, bitch!" she roared, pulling Ancelin's hair as she hovered the bottle closer to her neck. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you fucking mother-fucker bitch! I'll kill you!! I'll kill you!" "No, stop!" whimpered Ancelin, struggling so weakly in Hail's grasp. She wept and winced, but could not protect herself as the entire furious weight of the insane woman was pressed down on her. "Stop, please! Don't kill me, please! Please, don't kill me!" "Shut up, fuck-head!" screamed Hail, slapping her and bashing her head against the soft, grassy ground. Ancelin was jarred and continued weeping, wailing, begging to be spared. Hail punched her right in the face and pressed the jagged end of the bottle against her neck. "I'll kill you," she whispered, "you maniac bitch-fucker. I'll kill you and leave you here to rot." A simple thrust, a little twist, and the deed would be done—everything was falling into place. Hail's hatred and fury were at full power, her rage extended to new bounds, her broken heart cried out for justice, to murder the woman responsible for Ivory leaving her... "Please don't," moaned Ancelin, her voice weak and desperate. "Please don't kill me Alex, please. Please, please don't kill me. Please don't kill me." "Shut up!" roared Hail again. Ancelin was crying bitter tears, whining under the weight and hate of the enraged, despondent woman who had lost more than she could afford to. She was willing to kill to avenge herself; Ancelin begged her not to, and wept and wept as Hail hovered over her, the bottle's jagged edge still at her neck. "Please don't kill me," whispered Ancelin desperately, her face scarred by wet tears. "Please, please, please..." Hail growled and snarled, and her hand shivered as something inside her told her to finish the deed. But something else, something very foreign and quiet, something that had not surfaced in years told her not to. That something became louder, and louder, but remained soft, pleading, begging her as Ancelin begged her not to kill. Ancelin's tears cried out to her, the voice cried out to her, and something that had nearly died in Alexandra Blair's wretched heart called out, and took control of her arm, pulling it away. It softened her heart for a single instant—then braced itself for the inevitable scream. Hail dropped the bottle and stared at Ancelin in shock. She had to fight to breathe. She had to blink just to make sure she was seeing things right. The veil of hatred was lifting; she saw Ancelin as a poor, tortured, miserable person, wanting nothing more than peace and quiet, caught in the wrong side of a terrible love triangle. Hail's mouth hung open in astonishment as she realized what she had almost done. She slowly edged away, Ancelin rose, and sat on the ground in a numb stupor. Ancelin sniffled. The silence between them would've frosted the sun over. Hail realized Ancelin was staring at her, and instantly bolted to her feet. She scrambled away as fast as her wobbly legs could take her, ignoring Ancelin's voice as it called out to her—"Alex, wait!" She moaned, tripped, lurched, tumbled forward, muttering and groaning as loss beyond loss, emptiness beyond emptiness, grief beyond comprehension enveloped her, squeezing her like a boa, leaving her in more agony than any soul could bear. She fell to the sidewalk and crawled, stumbled, fell. She clawed at the ground, scraping the tips of her fingers off against the rough pavement. Alex carried herself home, wailing the whole trip, and when she got inside and shut the door behind her, she began to scream. She wailed for ten straight minutes. She howled until her voice died, until her stomach became upset and guided her to the toilet, where she retched and wept bitter tears. She made a tiny yelp, the last of her strength, and numbly flushed the toilet so the stink would not overwhelm her. She began to sob, curling up into a pathetic ball as every bad turn, every wrong deed, every moment she had been lost in the dark attacked her all at once, destroying her and everything she had ever been, leaving her so stripped that even the bone did not survive; she was horrid in her complete nakedness. Hail tried catching her breath. Her mind had stopped working long ago. She managed to weakly lift herself to her legs and limped to the kitchen. She opened the drawer and searched for knives, so she could stab herself and end everything right there. She cursed violently as she found nothing, not even forks, and slammed the drawer so hard it nearly broke. She then tumbled back to the bathroom, to the medicine cabinet, where she would overdose and die, covered in her own frothing saliva. Her damned father had locked the cabinet, as he had always done since discovering his daughter ingesting pills a few years back, and he kept the key with him. She was too weak to break the lock, so she lumbered away, more hopeless than before, hugging herself as she raced for ideas. She could not fling herself against the pavement outside, because their house only had one story. She could not breathe in gas fumes from the oven, because it was still broken. She did not want to drown herself in the toilet, and the shower could not hold more than a few inches of water, barely enough to submerge her ankles in. Her father carried no guns, no weapons, nothing of any value for a person seeking instant relief. It was as if he had anticipated her arrival and prepared for it, going out of his way to deny her a proper demise. Hail moaned timidly as she checked the whole house, again and again, and found nothing. She finally gave up, collapsing right there in the kitchen, and began to weep again. She could not even die right. A small, fragile sound crept from her throat as she tried to make sense of everything, and failed. "Why didn't somebody tell me pain could hurt so much?" Well I can't regret, can't you just forget it? I started something I couldn't finish And if we go down, we go down together best friends means, well best friends means And I've got a twenty-dollar bill that says you're up late night starting fist fights versus fences in your backyard Wearing your black eye like a badge of honor Soaking in sympathy from friends who never loved you nearly half as much as me Broken down in bars and bathrooms All I did was what I had to Don't believe me when I tell you it's just what anyone would do Take the time to talk about it Think a lot and live without it Don't believe me when I tell you it's something unforgivable...ohoh Well I can't regret, can't you just forget it? I started something I couldn't finish If we go down, we go down together best friends means, well best friends means You never knew well I never told you... Everything I know about breaking hearts I learned from you, it's true I've never done it with the style and grace you have But I've made long term plans based on these mistakes Broken down in bars and bathrooms All I did was what I had to Don't believe me when I tell you it's just what anyone would do Take the time to talk about it Think a lot and live without it Don't believe me when I tell you it's something unforgivable Is this what you call tact? I swear you're as subtle as a brick in the small of my back so let's end this call, and end this conversation there's nothing worse... (that's right he said, that's right he said it) I swear, you have no idea The jealousy that became me thinking (that's right he said) that you always had it way too easy Broken down in bars and bathrooms All I did was what I had to Don't believe me when I tell you it's just what anyone would do Take the time to talk about it Think a lot and live without it Don't believe me when I tell you it's something unforgivable Best friends means I pulled the trigger Best friends means you get what you deserve Best friends means I pulled the trigger Best friends means you get what you deserve Best friends means I pulled the trigger Best friends means you get what you deserve Best friends means I pulled the trigger Best friends means you get what you deserve Best friends means I pulled the trigger Best friends means you get what you deserve Best friend thinks I pulled the trigger! Best friend thinks you get what you deserve! Then it came to her—starvation. She would starve herself to death. With dry eyes, dry throat, and dried-up soul, Alexandra Blair trudged towards her room. There she found her bed, ratty and disheveled, and tucked herself into the covers. She pulled them over her like a funeral shroud, and since she could not suffocate herself under them, she merely laid there, ignoring her grumbling stomach, and waited in misery for slow death. Her father would be home shortly, weary from working long hours and probably in no mood for his daughter's grief, as usual. He would try to fight her, try to keep her alive, the damned fool, but there was no way he could force-feed her. She would fight him to the death. She laid there for hours, watching the ceiling or keeping her eyes shut, feeling her life crawl away from the endless accusing voices inside her head. Her house was hardly quiet: ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks blared past it all the time, each one competing for noisiness. Normally Blair would ignore it, or screech uselessly for them to shut up, but now it made no difference. She kept her eye on her digital clock, watching the time move from 4:00 to 5:00, then 6:00 and 6:45, when her father arrived. He came in silence. He passed by his daughter's room once, paused, then went back to peek inside. Her back was turned to him and she was curled up, so he knocked and called for her. "Alex? You all right?" He got no answer, which was better than her usual curse, so he turned on the lights and walked inside. She didn't grunt at him to turn them off, so he knew something was wrong. He sat at the edge of her bed and touched her back. "Honey? What's wrong?" She didn't even swat his arm away, so he became instantly concerned. "Alex, talk to me. I've never seen you like this. Are you okay? Is something wrong? Are you sick?" Finally she spoke, which relieved him a little. "Go away." "All right, I'm leaving. I'll be in my room if you need me." Fat chance, he knew, but he believed the time would come when his daughter would sneak into his room again, sit on his bed, and pour her heart out, as she had done many years earlier, before the divorce and before the change. The time turned into 7:00, then 7:30 as her father called her for dinner. Hail had not moved since crawling into the bed, so her father went to check on her again. He urged her to come to eat, but she was mute. He touched her, nudged her, and even brought food to her room, but except for an occasional "Go away" or "Get out", he got no response. And the responses he did get were too quiet, too unlike his daughter. She was still in bed by 8:00, and also 9:00 and 10:00, which was strange since usually she snuck out of the house to party nearly every night. Mr. Blair figured, naively, that his daughter was simply tired and needed rest, and left her alone as he went to bed and prepared for the next long day. But she was still there in the morning, and did not get up for breakfast. He begged her to come, eat something, and try to make it to school. But she would not budge, and remained even as he was getting ready to leave. "Alex, I'm not going until you get up, eat something, and go to school," he told her. She was silent. "Alex, I know you don't like me and you don't like my being here, but I will call work and tell them what's wrong so I can stay here. I won't even leave your room. I'm going to see that you at least eat something. If you're too sick to go to school, you should put something in your body. I know you threw up yesterday, so you'd better eat or you'll—" And then it hit him; he realized what his daughter was doing. No matter how many precautions he took, there was still one aspect of his daughter's life he could not safeguard, and that was her own actions, what she did to herself, the very basic and sufficient needs that all humans had to adhere to. She was starving herself to death, but what bothered her so much now? She had tried suicide before, he knew (thus the precautions), but it had never been this dramatic. "I'll what?" she asked weakly. He took a deep breath, touched her back tenderly, and activated his cell phone. In her own presence, he called work and told them he needed to stay home and take care of his daughter. They understood and gave him the day off, and with that he hung up. "There, you see? Now you're stuck with me. As soon as I see you putting something in your mouth and keeping it there, I'll leave. You don't have to go to school, just eat. Is that fair?" Alex haunted him with her silence. ......... Noon came, and Mr. Blair had been true to his word; he never left his daughter's room, except to use the bathroom and make one private call. He hung up in relief and got some water, then went back to Alex's room. She was still in bed, tossed so she could look at the ceiling, and refused the drink. He drank it and put the empty glass away, and picked up a book. He read to her until a knock came at his door. He excused himself and went to greet his guest, whom he had hoped would arrive. She looked just as concerned as he did. "I'm glad you could make it, Mrs. Keys. I didn't know who else to call, and you're the only person my daughter talks about with any reverence." "I don't know what I can do, but I'll certainly try," she assured him. Hail's art teacher, the only person she really genuinely liked (perhaps in all the world), set down her things and walked to her student's room, asking for privacy. She knocked and called out to her. "Haley, you here? It's Keys." Hail murmured and turned her head to greet her teacher. "Did you come to save me?" she whispered. Keys managed a smile. "I can sure try." "Don't bother," sighed Hail, "I don't want to be saved. I'm flattered you came, but you're just wasting your time. Just let me die..." Her voice was so soft and hopeless that it broke Janet's heart. She walked over and combed Hail's long fading purple hair, breathing gently and trying to heal the girl's numerous wounds. "So how'd you manage to convince everyone to let you play hooky?" she wondered after awhile. "Well, after your father called me, I told Miss Marbel what the situation was, then I spoke to all your other teachers. They agreed that I should come over and try to help, since I'm about the only person you seem to trust." "And the class?" "I managed to find a sub at the last minute," she answered with a smile. Hail moaned gently and rolled over to face her teacher. "Don't waste your time with me, Mrs. Keys. I just want to die. You're too good to be in a place like this." "Well, I want to help you, Haley. Would you mind telling me what's wrong so I can understand your situation? And don't think I can't, because remember I told you about my husband." "Yeah." Hail took a breath, and with a voice weakened by hunger, she recalled with clear detail her relationship with Ivory, the painful break-up, and how she had nearly killed someone in her fury, although she avoided using certain names and phrases for obvious reasons. When she concluded with her decision to kill herself through starvation, Janet had to admit that she was a little surprised. Her husband's death had been terrible for her, so she could understand what sort of pain her student was going through. "Well?" whispered Alex. "Am I hopeless? Are you shocked? Are you gonna arrest me?" "No, this is confidential, Haley. Your secret's safe with me. I asked your father to give us some time alone too, so he doesn't know either." Hail smiled faintly, and took a deep breath as she reached for her teacher's arm and caressed it. Keys smiled warmly, feeling she was getting somewhere at last. "How we doing?" she asked after a very long, intimate pause. Hail grunted. "Terrible." "Don't give up, Haley," she pleaded firmly, taking the girl's hand. "Whatever you do, don't give up. Don't do this to yourself. You're too good of an artist to die so young." "So? All the best artists died young, and they were never appreciated." "Maybe, but I know you have more to say to the world than you think. Haley, I know you're going through a crucible right now. I went through the exact same thing. I managed to live on because I had a purpose in life; I loved teaching too much to let go." "But I don't have a purpose," she insisted with a murmur. "My whole life has been a waste." "You're still young," encouraged Janet with a smile. "You just need to keep trying. I believe in you, Haley, and even though you think nobody loves you and accepts you for what you are, I do. It's a pleasure seeing you in class every day. I always look forward to it." Hail snorted, but managed to smile as she curled closer to her teacher. "Oh really? ...Mrs. Keys... I don't think I can go back, not after the terrible things I've done. Every school I've been to has kicked me out; now no doubt Marbel will do the same." "She was willing to let you in, I'm sure she'd be happy to keep you. Marbel is a lot tougher than she looks, and she may yet surprise you. I'm sure she won't mind." "Yeah, but Ivory..." "You'll just have to forgive her, and ask for forgiveness yourself. I do agree that she did something wrong, but that's no excuse to keep holding this grudge. Forgive her and forget about her; let her own fate take control. Just focus on your life." "Your words are useless," sighed Hail, but then she managed to smile and squeeze Keys' hand, "but thanks for caring. I still don't know why I should try, though." "If nothing else," answered her teacher, "the chance to come to my class and make beautiful art again." Hail smiled, and nearly laughed, before clutching Keys' hand again. Janet leaned down and kissed her forehead, and for an instant, Hail seemed cleansed, purified, reverted back to the way she had been before Hell decided to give her its worst. Her eyes sparkled with faint hope again, and she breathed clean air. "Mrs. Keys?" she whispered. Her teacher hummed. "Um... you wouldn't by any chance know how to cook, would you?"
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