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A STORM IS COMING
Hugh
SEPTEMBER 9, 2003
T HERE WAS SOMETHING VERY WRONG WITH L IZ .
I couldn’t pinpoint the trigger for the sudden and drastic shift in her mood. Every time I tried to bring it up, she either flew off the handle or her clothes flew off. She was deep in the throes of rapid cycling, and I was petrified of one of those highs sticking because a manic Liz was terrifying.
The last time I’d seen her this out of control, she’d tried to hang herself with a fucking horse rein. That wasn’t a period in my life I cared to think about because I was still traumatized by it. I had vivid memories of her wild, black eyes staring through me as she balanced on the edge of the loft in one of her family’s barns and asked me to watch her fly.
She jumped that day, even when I begged her not to, even when I bawled like a fucking baby. She just let go of life, and I ended up breaking my elbow when I climbed up the bales to cut her down.
There was a storm brewing inside of my girlfriend, and I was desperate to find a way to stop history repeating itself.
I couldn’t make sense of why this was happening now, after having the best year of our lives since her sister passed away. For the first time in years, there was an air of stability and contentment to Liz that hadn’t been there before. Things had been going steady for over a year, her mood had stabilized after her hospitalization in 2001, and aside from the odd hiccup or bad week, she was thriving.
That all changed the moment we returned to school. Within twenty-four hours, her entire personality had shifted. Liz didn’t return to school after her first day back, and when I tried to get in contact with her, all my calls and texts went unanswered.
When I biked over to her house the following evening to check in, every single window and door that offered access to the home had been locked and bolted.
This wasn’t overly concerning to me because I knew Mike and Catherine were in Tipperary for the week, attending a family funeral. On the contrary, I was relieved my girlfriend was taking her personal security seriously.
What bothered me was the fact that, for the first time ever, I found myself on the outside looking in.
The only contact I received from my girlfriend came that evening, when I was pounding on the front door, and it came in the form of a text message.
Really sick. Can’t let you in. Might be contagious.
When I replied to her message, letting her know that I didn’t care if I caught it, she sent one final message before going dark.
I care. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine in a day or two. Go home. x
That was it, the grand total of communication I had with my girlfriend until she returned to school yesterday. The moment I locked eyes on Liz in the corridor between classes, all my concerns were vindicated. Because she certainly wasn’t the Liz I’d waved off the bus the previous week.
My girlfriend’s entire frame was coiled tight with tension, her eyes wild and dark, and she was radiating a bone-chilling air of hostility. Because she rarely interacted with me at school— thanks, Claire —I had to wait until big lunch to get her alone. When I playfully snuck up on Liz in the library, something we often did to each other, and pulled her back to my chest, she lost it. Releasing a feral scream, Liz thrashed, kicked, and scratched the shit out of my arms.
When my girlfriend swung around and realized it was me, she lunged at me in an entirely different way.
Releasing a breathy moan, Liz literally jumped into my arms, wrapping her arms and legs around my body as she sealed her mouth to mine.
Completely thrown off-kilter by the sudden shift in her mood, I didn’t stop her like I should have and ended up getting dangerously close to giving her my virginity while taking hers.
I understood my girlfriend had a complicated, ongoing battle with mental health, and I had spent my life supporting her throughout her ups and downs, but this time felt different. A part of me worried this was more than exacerbated symptoms of her bipolar disorder.
Because this felt darker.
“Where’s your head at, Hugo?” Gibs asked, pulling me from my thoughts. “You look like a broken man.”
“Not broken,” I replied in a lighthearted tone. “Just worried.”
“About?”
I inclined my head to where my girlfriend was throwing shapes on the dance floor and sighed.
Tonight’s disco was to celebrate our junior cert results, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the out-of-character behavior my girlfriend was displaying.
I had no problem with Liz having fun with friends. On the contrary, I wholeheartedly encouraged her to get out in the world and enjoy herself. My concern stemmed from the fact that I knew Liz despised dancing and would rather chew off her hand than be caught shaking her ass to generic bubblegum pop music with a gaggle of girls.
“Oh,” Gibs replied, following my line of sight to where Liz was rubbing herself all over Claire and a few girls from their year. “Well, at least she’s enjoying herself.”
Liz wasn’t enjoying herself, she was spiraling, and my sister was too innocent to notice the difference.
“Well, if it isn’t the genius himself.” Robbie Mac, thankfully, interrupted us. Relief flooded me when he threw himself down on the bench next to us. “What’d ’ya get again, Hughie?” he asked, slurring from the sheer height of vodka he’d necked, right along with the rest of our year. “A fucking bazillion honors?”
“He got eleven honor-level A’s,” Gibsie informed him proudly. “All higher level.” Grinning, he leaned over and patted my head. “They’ll be no manual labor in this fella’s future. Fucker’s going to be a heart surgeon.”
“Jaysus.” Robbie released a low whistle. “Are ya, Hugh?”
“That’s the plan,” I replied, catching a glimpse of Feely scampering off with a tiny redhead.
“Well, fair play to ya,” Robbie replied and then pointed a finger at himself. “I’m as thick as the ditch, me. I barely scraped a pass on most of my exams—failed three of them. I’ll be shoveling shite on the aul fella’s farm for the rest of my days.”
“Join the club,” Gibs said, offering his two cents. “The only university I’ll be seeing is when I visit the lads.”
I tried to keep up with the conversation, truly I did, but no matter how hard I tried, my attention returned to Liz.
A horrible sinking feeling settled in my stomach, while a voice in the back of my mind warned, A storm is coming .
Table of Contents
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