IT'S GETTING BAD AGAIN.

My mind reels, replaying the summer in an incomprehensible blur. Afternoon trips to the Book Nook with Jasper, serving at Sunken Treasure with Jasper, chilling inside Europa with Jasper, watching movies with Jasper, taking Willie to the playground with Jasper. Jasper, Jasper, Jasper. My best friend. My soulmate. My only relief.

And in eight short days, I'll be cut off from all that keeps me going.

My heart races in frightened anticipation at the prospect, and it takes some serious controlled breathing techniques to regain a somewhat normal heartbeat.

Not even Noah's sweet texts provide the comfort I so desperately need. I consider texting Meredith, to see if she wants to do something, but I don't particularly want to spend time pretending to be normal around her right now. I want to rage, because I don't usually do that. I want to do something rebellious, to let off this irrepressible anxiety attack I feel coming on.

Without thinking, I walk over to my desk, and pick up a black pen and an old notebook. I discard them inside of a raggedy bag that I never use anymore, and my feet take me downstairs, currently more in control than I am.

"I'm taking the kayak out," I call to Aunt Colleen, who I can hear in the kitchen playing with Willie. "Be back in a bit."

I don't expect her to have any reservations against me taking the kayak out by myself. I've done it before. But I still let the door clatter shut behind me without waiting for her response.

It feels oddly mechanical, like my body is programmed to go to the garage, pick up the orange kayak and paddle, and take it to the water. Very little mental processing or brain power goes into the whole ordeal, making it feel that much more natural and necessary.

It's like I'm not even here anymore, just a ghost inhabiting my body to fill the empty space that's been sucked away.

Lowering myself into the kayak, I'm overcome by the same icky gray matter feeling I had after my bad night with Derrick, and it occurs to me that the emptier I get, the quicker this uncomfortable feeling duplicates itself and fills those empty spaces up. Soon I'll be a hollow carcass comprised of nothing but a vat of discomfort and sadness. I've read so many books by now, but I'm not sure any of them adequately describe precisely the sort of grief and sorrow I feel. Nothing about this feels romantic or wistful like descriptions in books often make the emotions that come with someone leaving to be. It feels like dying, except I'm trapped in a very much living human body.

There are very few clouds in the sky and the sun beats down on my bare arms and legs. It briefly registers that I forgot to put any sunscreen on, but I refuse to turn back now. This is the closest to teenage angst I have ever been, and I want to feel this as completely as I can. I think I at least deserve that.

The trip passes by a lot quicker than I remember, but maybe that's because I'm paddling significantly harder than Jasper and I did in the canoe that day he brought me here.

Yes, whether I was initially cognizant of it or not, I have ended up at the same secluded little beach Jasper took me to that one day, nearly three weeks ago at the beginning of August. The one with the pinky promise tree he etched our initials into and dedicated to our friendship.

It's amazing to think of how much has changed between that day and now. And he hasn't even gone yet. But it's coming.

I slip out of the kayak, the cool water coming up to my mid-calf, and drag it the rest of the way to shore. Once I'm sure it's far enough inland not to wash away, I make the short trek to our tree, bringing my bag with me. Once I finally find the tree, looking as twisted and majestic as it did the first time I saw it, I do something so unlike me, it feels right.

I scream.

"WHY?" I squawk, knocking my fists against its massive trunk. "WHY DOES HE HAVE TO LEAVE NOW?"

Everything surrounding the tree remains silently serene. I'm truly, completely alone.

Good. Better get used to it.

"WHY CAN'T ANYTHING EVER GO RIGHT FOR ME?" I scream bitterly at the tree. By this point, I'm bawling, but they're frustrated tears. Angry tears. "I JUST WANT TO BE HAPPY, WHY DOES ANY OUNCE OF HAPPINESS IN MY LIFE ALWAYS GET TAKEN AWAY? HUH? YOU STUPID TREE, I JUST WANT ANSWERS!"

I continue punching and kicking and screaming at the tree until my fist feels bruised, my throat is raw, and my body can hardly support itself. Collapsing onto the ground, I let out one last weak moan, curling against the tree and leaning my head against its sturdy frame.

Look at you, you're pathetic, a voice in my head taunts.

"Shut up," I grate out.

You worthless, worthless girl. Just give up already.

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."

I hope I never see you again, I hear my dad's bitter words ring in my ears. You ruined my whole damn life from the day you were born.

"No no no no no," I chant to myself, rocking back and forth and squeezing my eyes and ears shut like I've truly lost my marbles. "Please leave me alone."

The voice in my head dissipates, leaving me here in the present. I stand up on shaky feet and walk around to where J + L = BFFs is hand carved into the side of the trunk. My fingers trace their jagged edges, thankful to have this small, tangible piece of Jasper to retreat to.

A patch of wildflowers catches my eye, and I wander over to them and pluck them up until I have a small handful. It reminds me of when Jasper handed me a similar bouquet of these lovely-looking weeds on that day. I set them down at the base of the tree, right below our carved initials.

"Here lies the most beautiful friendship I ever could've asked for," I murmur. "Thanks for showing me the beauty in the tiny, zoomed-in corners of Earth, when before I only ever saw the faraway big picture as being beautiful. I thought I was only capable of loving things from a distance, but you proved me wrong, and for that I'll always be grateful."

I pull my notebook and pen out of my bag and begin writing, something I haven't done in a long time. It used to be such an outlet for me, until Jasper became my human diary.

I'm surprised by how easily words start flowing out of me, as if they've been repressed for so long that they're bursting at the seams, waiting to be released. I keep writing and writing, putting everything churning amidst the chaos inside to light. I'm neither satisfied nor dissatisfied with the words, but there they are, out there and honest.

Finally, I end on a poem that makes my insides feel funny:

there once was a girl full of endless potential

an empty book full

of an unwritten story essential.

her heart was an anchor

but her mind was a sail

and she hoped that one day

somehow they both would prevail.

but the two were always clashing

like waves on the rocks gnashing

against one another.

one day she had enough

of the stormy conflict brewing within

so she sank her ship with the help of a pin.

down went her ship, captain, and crew

til the cabin was almost sunken from view

she took her last breath

and plunged into the dark depths below

and a final thought registered,

as she descended ever so slow:

if only she had listened to the lull of the sea

she'd have realized it was her soul that had held the key

to set her mind free

and let her heart plant a tree.

but that never happened, alas instead

she drowned underwater and was left for dead.

author's note: sooooo.....yeah.....

i wrote this poem last summer on a totally unrelated note to axis, semi-recently rediscovered it, and realized how fitting it was for this chapter.  i'm def not a poet lol so lemme know what you think about that. also, if you're ever feeling as hopeless as lexi is at this point in the story, please please feel free to reach out to either me, or someone you know and trust (probably the latter, but i'm always here for you guys if you ever need a place to talk!) it makes me so sad (and yet so grateful) when y'all say you relate a lot to the emotions of this story (grateful bc i so wanted to honestly capture those very real and very un-talked-about emotions that, like it or not, people actually do feel) so here's me being all cheesy for a hot sec to say that it gets better. i'm in a really good place now, but when i started writing this story back around the beginning of my junior year of high school after my best friend moved and my mental health plummeted, so many of these ideas in this story were real and personal. i've been there, and i can personally testify that things got better for me, and i truly believe they will for you, too. okay, side tangent over.

yay for another short chapter! i'm anticipating the next chapter to be very long, so if you prefer longer chapters, i gotchu.

hope you're having a wonderful week lovely people :)