Page 71

UP, UP, AND AWAY

Lizzie

MARCH 18, 1999

“I USED TO LIVE ON ANOTHER PLANET ,” I MUMBLED, TRYING AND FAILING TO MAKE EYE contact with the stranger in front of me. “Under the water.” Mashing my lips together, I traced my lip with my tongue but couldn’t feel a thing. “She has claws.” Yep, I was really gone this time. “And the monster scratches me.” I could see four of the stranger now. “They flew me here on an airplane.”

“Is she okay?” That was my mam. She was crying. I could hear her. I knew that made me sad, but I just couldn’t feel it. “What’s happening to her?”

“Don’t worry, that’s the Midazolam sedating her system,” I heard the lady in the white coat tell Mam. “She’ll be extremely drowsy for a day or two until it works its way out of her body.”

“What do we tell the school? How do we explain what she did today?”

“I’ll write a letter for you to take to the principal explaining this morning’s incident. Please try not to worry, Mrs. Young. Schools are highly sympathetic to children with complex medical issues, and this in no way will affect Lizzie’s opportunity to learn with her peers.”

“And what about all the school she’s been missing?”

“The Board of Education have already been informed of Lizzie’s condition and an exemption has been granted in her favor, so you won’t have any trouble regarding truancy claims. Regarding her education, all correspondence from her teacher has confirmed that despite her bipolar disorder, your daughter continues to thrive academically. I’d even go so far as to wager Lizzie is scoring in the top five percent.”

“At least that.”

“Yes, it’s not all doom and gloom.”

Slumped in the chair between my parents, it took everything inside of me to hold my head up. I could hear the doctor talking about bipolar episodes and something else called rapid cycling.

I didn’t care, though.

Not anymore.

“Can you help me die?” I slurred, turning my head to see the shadow of a man. “Hey, mister man, can you help me find my friend?”

“Jesus Christ,” the man cried. “How can we keep living like this?”

“Michael, please,” I heard my mother wail. “Not in front of her.”

“Hey, mister doctor?” My head bobbed and weaved like an apple on a string. Was I bobbing for apples? “Can you stop the monster?”

“Elizabeth, it’s me, Dad.”

“Dad,” I repeated, letting the word roll off my tongue. “Hey, mister dad? Can you make it stop hurting?”

The man cried again, louder this time, and I didn’t understand why.

I couldn’t figure any of this out.

“It’s all right, Elizabeth.” Someone picked up my hand and held it. “You’ll be okay.”

Would I?

Did I even care?

The injection the doctor gave me made me feel numb inside.

I couldn’t feel a thing.