In January my parents got a divorce. "Things are different," Mom had said. "Between us, I mean."

A week and a half later, Dad married a twenty-three year old named Carol. He sent me a flower display and asked me to be a bridesmaid. I stomped the flowers into the sink and watched the red petals swirl down the garbage disposal.

Sammy went, though. I drove my younger sister there, only 12, dressed in a pastel pink dress that bounced when she took a step.

"Will you pick me up?" she asked.

"Dad can drop you off," I sneered, a little coldly, since she wasn't the one who betrayed our family.

Her face reddened. She rubbed the hem of her silky dress between her thumb and forefinger, staring at the ground.

"Okay." Her voice was so quiet I could barely hear it. "I... I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Sammy smiled up at me sadly. "G'bye."

My car tires squealed as I tore out of the parking lot, my fingers numb as I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles whitened.

And then break was over and it was school again.

My schedule consisted of mainly AP classes with seniors and juniors, because I was "beyond my peers' skill" as the principal said proudly.

AP Trig first period. I didn't speak. He was sitting across from me. He smirked at me and waved. He passed me a note.

I shoved it in my backpack and trembled when the bell rang and he was gone. I raced for the bathroom and uncrumpled the note.

Still remember me? Miss you. We should do it again sometime ;)

I vomited in the last stall, not even in the toilet, and wiped tears from the corners of my eyes. I ripped the note in half and left it to wilt under the sink water, absentmindedly fingering the thick pink scar curling across my left hipbone.

And then came the silence. I no longer spoke because there was nothing to say except a long, violent scream and I was afraid to open my mouth for fear it would escape.

Everyone assumed it was because of the divorce. My Personality Change, I mean. "Oh, Marley? It's that divorce. She'll get over it. It happens to everyone, pretty much," I heard someone say in the hallway once.

Once, in english, Jasmine Baker cornered me and drawled, "You know, a lot of people's parents are divorced. Mine, too. You don't have to be so dramatic about it. Going mute? You just want attention and we're sick of it." She smirked.

I rolled my lips between my teeth and chewed avidly. Blood trickled onto my tongue.

"Say something," she ordered.

I shrunk against the wall.

"SAY SOMETHING!"Jasmine shoved me.

And I was silent.

•••

"Wow, folks, can you believe it's been a half year already? A whole four months of school?" Mr. Frez shouted.

Everything he said was a yell, like he didn't know how to speak softly. His lip quivered slightly under the force of each word and his mustache twitched.

"Marley, would you come to the board and solve this problem? Simple review stuff."

I stood up slowly and shuffled to the board. My clammy hands clutching a green marker, I read the problem and scrawled an answer, my brain whirring.

"I can't even read that. What does it say?" Mr. Frez screamed.

My mouth opened and closed, and I'm sure I looked like a fish. I walked back to the board and erased my original answer, carefully rewriting it.

"Oh, okay, 16. Are you sure?"

I bit my lip, nodded.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, the answer is 2. Marley, maybe we should consider transferring you to the regular math. Something slower paced might fit you."

Red patches bloomed across my cheeks. I nodded ever-so-slowly.

•••

I opened the bathroom door and looked around. No one occupied a single stall. The door had metal plate rather than a handle, so no lock.

If you scream, someone will hear you.

But if you don't?

The door swung open. I tried to shriek. It was him.

"Hey, baby." He winked and reached for me.

I shrunk away. I struggled for words. "No no no no no."

"What, not in the mood?" He reached and lifted my shirt. He smirked when he saw the jagged scar.

"Stop," I whispered. "Stop."

I should've screamed last time. Should've yelled. Should've saved myself. What's wrong with me?

"You wanted it!" he snapped, his eyebrows narrowing. "If you didn't want it, why didn't you scream?" 

My jaw chattered when he stepped closer. Tears built in my eyes and I was shaking and crying and running but he was fast, faster getting closer in a stall jeans down frozen no no stop help me

The door swung open. A girl stepped in, her dark eyes surveying the room. She probably saw my face smashed against the floor, my cheek stretched back, my mouth wide in a scream that would never escape.

She frowned, then scowled when she saw the bottoms of his shoes.

"This is bathroom! You two are disgusting," the girl said, digging her foot into the tile floor. "I might just tell Principal—"

"Hey, now baby, no need to get feisty." He stood up and pushed the door open. "Later." He winked at me. "Okay, Lily, it's all yours."

The girl, Lily, rolled her eyes. "Peyton, you're a sicko." Then she kicked me lightly in the shoulder and I crawled to my feet.

When the door shut, she leaned over and whispered, "Are you okay? Was he hurting you?"

I wiped away and tear and stood up. I felt pathetic. "I'm fine."

•••

"Be good, honey," Mom said, kissing me on the head. "I should be back in an hour or so."

She was going to stupid marriage counseling with my stupid dad and his stupid new wife in their stupid brand new convertible. Must be a mid-life crisis thing, because I'm pretty sure only teenagers own convertibles.

The silence of the house was overwhelming. And my decision came slowly, yet softly, and one second I was sitting on the couch and the next I was in the kitchen swallowing something from the cabinet, and another one and another until I stumbled to the couch clutching an empty orange bottle and trying not to pass out.

Then everything went black and all I heard was screaming.