Backlash Read Online Free PDF Page A

understand what I’m saying.”
    Move my head, slowly. So tired. Brain hurts. Hand hurts. Throat hurts.
    “Okay, here we go, Lara. One … two … three …”
    Exhale … less pressure in my throat and then tube slides out.
    Moan. Gag.
    “Your throat might feel a little sore for a while,” the doctor says. “You can try gargling with salt water, or drinking some warm water with honey and lemon.”
    It does hurt. More than a little. Everything does. Hurts. Especially … especially if I … no.
    “Why did you do it, Lara? Why? ”
    My father’s voice.
    Daddy. No.
    Shut my eyes. Want to go back to sleep. Don’t want to think. Don’t want to feel. Don’t want to remember why. It hurts. Daddy, Mommy, it hurts too much, to remember. I want to go back to sleep.
    Moving head side to side, trying to shake away thoughts, trying not to remember again.
    But then I see his face.
    See the words he wrote.
    See them on my computer screen.
    See them etched into my brain.
    Feel them etched into my heart.
    Know them deep in my soul.
    Remembering.
    Don’t want to remember.
    Don’t want to live.
    Tear rolls down my cheek.
    “Christian.”
    “Was that Christian she said?”
    Doctor is asking. Are they going to do something to him?
    I shouldn’t have said it. Open my eyes.
    This is real. This is happening.
    It was supposed to be over.
    Instead of making it better I’ve … just … made … it … worse.
    Panda Nurse tapping my knees with the rubber hammer.
    Involuntary movement.
    I’m awake involuntarily.
    I want to go back to sleep.
    “Is Christian her boyfriend?” That sounds like Panda Nurse.
    BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep.
    He hates me. He told me the world would be a better place without me in it. I still don’t know why. But it hurts. It still hurts so badly I don’t want to be awake. I don’t want to be here. I wasn’t supposed to be here.
    “Not that we know of,” Mom says. “She doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
    “She’s friends with someone named Christian on Facebook and — What?! How can people —”
    Sydney’s talking, but now she’s crying.
    “Give me your phone!” Daddy. He’s angry.
    Daddy’s swearing. “Who are these sick punks? What kind of kids would write this stuff?”
    I don’t want to know.
    Please don’t make me know.
    I don’t want to feel.
    PleaseletmegobacktosleepbacktosleepbacktosleepLetmeforgetIthurtsithurtsithurtsithurts.
    I hurt.

M OM’S ON the phone with the police, who’ve left the hospital, telling them about this Christian DeWitt, which is his full name according to his Facebook profile. She tried to get Lara to tell her as much as she could, but Lara’s pretty out of it, so Mom hasn’t been able to get much info. Dad wants to go find this Christian guy and rip him limb from limb, and then when he’s done, go find all the other jerks who wrote nasty stuff about Lara on her wall and do the same to them. He made me take a zillion screenshots on my cell of Lara’s profile and Christian’s profile and his friend list and all the people who commented on Lara’s wall and then email them to him so he can start his personal investigation and vendetta. Mom keeps telling him he has to calm down and let the police deal with it.
    “Calm down? Our daughter almost died , Kathy!” Dad hisses. “And these animals are telling her she’s fat and ugly and saying she’s better off dead? Who does that? What kind of sick world do we live in?”
    “I don’t know.” Mom sighs. “But getting yourself arrested for assault isn’t going to help Lara. Or me. Don’t forget I’ve got an election coming up in November.”
    As if any of us could forget that for a second.
    “Our daughter is lying in a hospital bed and you’re bringing up the election ?”
    Dad’s voice is starting to rise. Mom tells him to lower it so he doesn’t make a scene.
    Hate to break it to you, Mom, but I think the scene has already been well and truly made.
    I take out my cell to check the time.