Tabitha Unleashed
Three moments that changed everything.
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Continue Tabitha's StoryTabitha's Manuscript • Excerpt
I’m a suicide-attempt survivor; it’s an interim title, so nothing I could put on a résumé for a summer job. I can never erase the damage I’ve done in ten lifetimes, let alone my probably short one. But here I am, doing the insane, doing the impossible for someone I love. Someone I wronged. Someone I scarred for life.
I stand just offstage at the Johnson Theater inside Orlando’s Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts, home to the most popular show in the country. It seats 2,700 people, but it looks like 27,000. Yeah, I hate crowds. Almost as much as I hate fucking cancer.
I push my terror deep down inside, but it climbs out of the well like the creepy girl from The Ring. My pocket holds Kayla’s rebuttal to my suicide note, and I tap it for luck, strength, courage. Any of those will do. I’ll risk anything to save her. Even the secret of what I am.
My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them on my jeans.
Host Marcus Blaze taps me on the shoulder. “Okay, you’re next. You’ll be great.” He raises his microphone and announces my arrival. “Please welcome our next contestant to American Phenom!”
My stomach lurches as applause rolls through the theater. I step onto the stage. The floor is black, shiny, endless. It’s a void waiting to swallow me whole. I recently escaped a black void, so I’m familiar with this monster. Goal number one is to make it to the gold “X” where I’m supposed to stand, preferably without passing out. The stage lights are as hot and blinding as a hundred suns. Sweat breaks on my brow. With my luck, I’ll sweat through my shirt and show some bold pit stains.
Stellar.
Tabitha's Manuscript • Excerpt
“Yes, you can, Tabby. You think you have to do this, that you are somehow obligated to sacrifice yourself to save me. That’s some bullshit, if I’m being honest.”
“Why?” I truly don’t know how everyone can’t see I have no choice but to perform.
“What if I said I want you to stop because your mental health is more important to me than my own life.”
“I’d say you’re fucking stupid.”
This is obviously serious because Mom doesn’t chastise my language.
“Why? Why is sacrificing your life to save me more important than me sacrificing mine to save you?”
I sting back, like a Yellowjacket to the neck. “You know why.”
Kayla knows it’s because of what I did that night. To her. To our family. But I can’t say that in front of Becca.
Kayla responds with her own venom. “I just have cancer. It fucking happens, Tabby. And if I am in my last months, then I want it to be me seeing you happy and knowing that eventually, you live your best after I’m gone. That’s it. That’s my make-a-wish.”
“You already made your make-a-wish, meeting Joe Gatto from Impractical Jokers. You can’t change your mind.”
“Of course I can change my mind…” she takes a breath. Whatever she is going to say building inside, she tears up. “Because I have FUCKING CANCER!”
Tears spill out and stream down her cheeks. This sets me off. And Mom. And Becca. It’s silent crying, just tears gushing all over the place, in a hurry like they have somewhere important to be.
We sit in the wetness and the silence, a shipwreck. No survivors.
Tabitha's Manuscript • Excerpt
The house lights dim and the large screen comes to life.
“Hi Tabby.”
Kayla is gorgeous, bald head, scars and all. They’ve done her makeup. She’s simply radiant. Her eyes sparkle and her smile could melt lead.
“I’m so proud of you. People need to know what you’re doing goes against every fear you have. You’re trying to save me. But this is not your fight. It is mine. It is you that gives me the will to fight. It is you that makes me appreciate life. It is you that makes me grateful for every minute of my life, even if there are only a few left.”
Tears make a jailbreak. My heart rips. My lips quiver.
“You say your mission is to save me. Well, my mission is to save you. It’s out there. Everyone knows, so I’m saying it now to the entire world. I must make sure you stay after I’m gone. And when I’m gone, you need to remember this. I will always be there, Tabby.”
“And this,” she raises her left arm and shows the tattooed quote that runs along her inner forearm, “and this,” she shows the tattoo that runs along her inner right forearm, “is your destiny. You’ll always be my superhero. I love you.”
No one stands against the universe on behalf of another, declares mistakes have been made and then renders its judgment mute, except my sister. Who deserves to be loved this much by anyone?