“I’m here for the dinner shift. I believe at seven.” “Well I’ma head out. I already dished deserts for tonight.” I walked to the locker room/bathroom, grabbed my bag and tried to keep from crying. Something inside me was eating at me. I was falling apart and my small world was crashing. I don’t believe I ever walked so fast to the bus stop on Lincoln Way and Beach. I was headed home and I knew what I wanted to do. The bus ride was silent for me; eight people on the bus and I heard not one sound as I was zoned-out. I was scared of me.
Finally, west Ames, I was home, 4708 Steinbeck. I climbed to the third floor and went straight in. I turn on the radio in my room and there’s Carried Underwood followed by Rihanna, I was temped to turn it right off. Once I heard Irreplaceable, I turned the radio off and broke into hysterical tears. I slammed my door shut. Crying in my room, I heard Rosa come in; I started my playlist (titled Hurt) on my computer to drown out the sounds of my deep cry. I was in pain, so much pain that it physically hurt to breathe. I hear Rosa leave back out, I turned the music back off and tried to pray; I needed a savior at this moment more than any other moment in my life I felt.
Reaching for my water-bottle with orange juice in it, I poured rubbing alcohol in it. I cried harder. I opened the box that laid next to my bed, ah pills; this would be easy I thought. I lay out on my air mattress from Wal-Mart and opened my bible. I cried to the point that I was out of breath. “Lord, please, ayudame, I’m lost,” I said just above a whisper. Then I screamed, “Jesus!”
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