Broken Glass Read online

  I walked into that office and I was instantly pissed off because I immediately liked the therapist.

  She wasn’t what I’d stereotyped a therapist to be. She was mid-forties, I guessed, with light hair, an average figure, and a very pleasant smile. She also had an extremely warm presence, which I knew would make it harder to resist her tricks…and she was bound to have tricks because she was a therapist and everyone knows that therapists just like to screw people up mentally.

  “Julianne Walker,” she introduced herself, shaking my hand. “Please have a seat, Ava.” I didn’t say anything as I sat in the chair across from her. I glanced over at my mom, who was lurking in the doorway of the room.

  “Er, Ava, since it’s your first time talking to me, would you like to have your mom here, too?” Julianne Walker asked me. “Or would you maybe prefer for it to be just to two of us.”

  In all honesty, it was my evil intention to make Mom stay, since she’d forced me into this. But I was having second thoughts.

  “Maybe you should go, Mom,” I said quietly. She nodded.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll be back in an hour.” And she left.

  “Now, do you drink chocolate milk?” Julianne asked then. I raised my eyebrows at her.

  “Um, yeah, I guess,” I replied slowly. “Why?”

  “Because I just happen to have the best chocolate milk on the planet,” she said with a smile, getting up from her chair and going over to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room. She opened it and pulled out a gallon of chocolate milk. She went back to her desk and retrieved two mugs from a drawer.

  “You want some, right?” she assumed. I nodded.

  “Sure,” I said. She poured some into both of the mugs and came back to her chair and sat down.

  “Here you are,” she said, handing me a mug. I took a sip. It was insane. As soon as my taste buds took hold of that chocolate milk, a wave of something went through my body. I looked up at her and she was smiling at me.

  “Sends a tingle down to your toes, doesn’t it?” she asked me. I nodded.

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s delicious.”

  “I saw skepticism on your face when I said it was the best chocolate milk in the world,” she said. “But it’s safe to say, I think, that I told you so.” I smiled slightly.

  “Where’d you get this stuff?” I asked her.

  “My son makes it, actually,” she informed me, taking a big swig from her own mug. “He started when he was eight and is still going at it thirteen years later. I don’t know how he got so good at doing something so simple as mixing together milk and chocolate. But, of course, he thinks it’s much more than just that. Anyway, he makes me a gallon a week and so when I’m having a rough day at work, I’ve got my best chocolate milk on earth to brighten me up. I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this stuff was made of magic.”

  I surprised myself then when I chuckled. She gave me a strange smile.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s just that we’re talking about chocolate milk,” I said. “It’s not what I thought I was coming to therapy for.”

  “What exactly do you think you’re here for?” she asked me, leaning back in her chair. I shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “I’ve tried to kill myself twice…unsuccessfully, of course, because my fiancé is dead and everyone thinks I’m off the edge.”

  “Are you?” she asked.

  “Am I what?”

  “Off the edge?”

  “Um…no, I don’t think so,” I replied, a little defensively. “I’m sane.”

  “Sanity is too lightly defined,” Julianne said then, sighing. “No one, in fact, is sane—it’s proven. Don’t use that word, Ava, it’s ridiculous. Off the edge…that’s what I asked you. Are you off the edge?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, after a minute’s pause.

  “Well, you are,” she said, with surprising bluntness. “It’s very clear to me already. You’ve fallen off the brink of it all…and rightly so.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked her hotly.

  “It means that the other half of you is gone from this life,” she said, her voice very soft now. “You have the right to go ‘off the edge’, as you say. Hell, I don’t blame you for wanting to die. Without him, there’s only half of anything…half of everything.”

  I just stared at her, transfixed. This wasn’t at all what I’d expected.

  “I saw him, you know,” I said suddenly, ever so quietly. She nodded slowly.

  “After he died, you mean?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “The last time I tried to…to kill myself…in the car, as I was drifting off, there was all this light a-and I saw Tyson. That’s his name. He was waiting for me, holding out his hand, and I-I was rushing as fast as I could to get to him. The thing about it was that I hadn’t been able to clearly remember his face in my head until then, but when I saw him at that moment, everything was crystal clear.” I paused for a moment, and then went on,

  “I didn’t get to him. I guess I was knocked out of that state whenever my friend Jake found me in the car. When I was unconscious for those two days, I saw him again…but that time, I was in the wreck with him and I…I saw h-his body on th-the tree.”

  I stopped then, covering my face with my hands and crying into my palms silently. Julianne didn’t say anything until I’d regained my composure and was able to look at her.

  “This is going to sound crazy,” she told me. “But bear with me…you believe in the other side, don’t you? After death?” I nodded.

  “Remember this:” she said, her eyes looking directly into mine. “He’s there. He’s on that other side. His death was untimely, Ava, and maybe he wasn’t ready to leave you, but he didn’t have that choice. What he does have is the ability to touch you…right here. In your heart. From the love he left behind, you’re able to connect with his memory. And that memory will help you to see things…to help you understand things so that maybe…so that you’ll be able to cope with it all easier, you know? So that you’ll be able to live, even though he wasn’t.”

  Damn. She was good.

  There was a knock on the door, and it opened. My mom stepped in.

  “Hi,” she said, with a grim smile. “How’s it going?” Julianne’s demeanor immediately changed from deep to casual and cool.

  “Great,” she replied. “You’re just in time.” She stood up then. I stood up as well, looking at her in confusion.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ava,” she said, extending her hand. I shook it. She winked.

  “I’ll see you day after tomorrow for our two-hour session,” she said.

  “Two hours?” I questioned.

  “Yes,” she replied. “You have one two-hour session every week…if that’s all right.” I nodded.

  “That’s good,” I said. “Great.”

  I couldn’t believe it myself, but I was actually looking forward to this therapy with Dr. Julianne Walker. I had a strange feeling she might just be my last hope.

  The next session was two hours, and I spilled my heart out to Julianne. I think it was the chocolate milk…it sounds totally ridiculous, but I just know there was something almost magical about it.

  Over the next two months, my therapy went very well. And the fact that it went so well helped make it easier on me to pop those mild anti-depressants every day that I was required to. My sessions with Julianne didn’t feel like therapy, really—it was like talking to a friend whom I could trust with my darkest secrets. I was able to talk to Julianne about nearly everything. And she listened. Yes, she was getting paid good money to listen, but the fact of it all was that she was listening. I needed that more than anything. I talked of Tyson as if he was still alive and Julianne just listened. She didn’t give me mocking stares, or treat me as if I was crazy for wanting to remember him…for missing him.

  But at the end of my second month, Julianne informed me that s
he’d be taking a two-week vacation with her family. A selfish part of me became angry with her for leaving me and it took all the willpower I could muster not to scream and pitch a fit and beg her to stay. But it was just two weeks, she said, and she promised she’d be coming back. She even gave me a gallon of her special chocolate milk to hold me over until she returned.

  “Maybe one day I could meet your son who makes this,” I told her before she left. She cocked her head sideways and gave me a soft smile.

  “Perhaps,” was all she said.

  The chocolate milk only lasted three days. Something happened to me then. I had Mom convinced that I was fine, so she went to work as usual and left me home by myself. But I wasn’t fine. I’d stopped taking the anti-depressants I was on. I felt deserted and lost. After all, I really didn’t have anybody but Julianne and my mother anymore. Jake, Pete…even Cassie had become seldom correspondents. But who could blame them? I’d turned into a total nut job. I just wasn’t me without Tyson.

  Jake showed up at my mom’s house one afternoon unexpectedly, after Julianne had been gone almost two weeks. I opened the door and it took me a minute to realize that he was really standing there.

  “Hi,” he said, giving me a small smile. “How are ya, Ava?”

  How are ya? Was he serious?

  “Um, come in,” I mumbled, ignoring his question. I noticed immediately that he had something in his hand.

  “Wow, it’s been a while—” He started, but I cut him off.

  “Jake, why are you here?”

  He looked around uncomfortably and sighed.

  “This is for you,” he said, handing me a CD, along with a folded up piece of paper. “Pete wanted me to bring it by a long time ago, but I just haven’t…” His voice trailed off and he didn’t finish.

  “You haven’t wanted to come by and see me because I’m crazy?” I guessed. He looked extremely uncomfortable now.

  “I didn’t think you were ready for it before,” he replied, finally looking at me. “It’s…Tyson wrote this song right before…before he…before the wreck, I mean, and he was really adamant on recording it, like he…well, anyway, he wrote it for you…it’s really personal. I almost feel like he shouldn’t have shared it with anybody else, but he had to record it, you know?”

  “I guess I’d know what you were talking about if I knew what this was,” I said, starting to unfold the paper.

  “No!” Jake said quickly, holding his hand out and taking a step back. “I-I mean, I don’t want to be here when you read it. I don’t want to distract you or anything…you probably want to be alone…” He stuck his hands in his pockets and started stepping back towards the front door. I looked at him in utter disbelief.

  “Do I really freak people out that bad?” I asked him. “My own friends? Am I just a blot of space without Tyson? A crazy, out-of-my-mind blot of space?” Jake didn’t answer.

  “I gotta go,” was all he said before quickly retreating out the front door. I stared after him for a moment, not sure of how I should feel. I went to my room then and put the CD in my stereo. I sat down on my bed and unfolded the piece of paper, holding out on hitting the play button on the stereo.

  Tyson’s handwriting.

  Song Title: Ava

  Artist: T. Andrews, 04-08-04

  I went on to read the most incredible, heart-wrenching lyrics of a song that the rest of the world would never hear. It talked about his and my love for each other, of course, but that’s not really what the song was about. He wrote of how he wasn’t going to live forever, but he wanted to leave the world with an imprint of himself. He wrote about how he always knew there’d be a time when he’d have to fade away, but that didn’t stop him from living life to its fullest. In a way, the song reminded me of the premonition he’d made before he died, asking me to love again if something happened to him.

  I must have read those lyrics thirty times or more before I got up, went over to my stereo, and hit play. Tyson’s voice came on and he sang those haunting words I’d just read. Oh, God. He really had known. How could he have known he was going to die so young?

  I went to my closet then and, standing on my tiptoes, pulled a big, heavy box from the top shelf. It was my ‘Tyson Box’. All his demo CDs, every picture I had of him, every love letter he’d ever written me, all the things he’d given me…

  I sat in my bedroom floor and began going through that box.

  Ava, one letter said, this sounds corny, but I saw this mug with this big window on it and I thought of you falling out of the church window the day we met, so I had to get it…the mug was also in the box.

  Ava, another letter read, So, I’ve decided that I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get Elton John to play at our wedding. I actually laughed at this one.

  Ava, another said, I wrote this song the other day. The guys were making fun of it, but I really like it. What do you think?

  Ava, you will not believe what Pete just told me! Oh my God, that girl Sharon that he’s been seeing for a month goes up to him the other day, and she started to say, “Pete, we’ve going out for a month now and I think it’s time we—” Pete almost wet his pants, because he thought she was going to say they should live together, but GET THIS: she says, “We should start calling each other by pet names.” HAHAHAHAHAAA!

  Ava, I got stung by a bee right now and I think I’m dying. My pinky toe is the size of a tangerine…

  Ava, Laura’s boyfriend dumped her and I’m seriously thinking about whaling on his sorry ass tomorrow night, even if he is a minor…

  Ava, I seriously DO like your haircut, okay? I promise on my grandma’s life, okay? Please, babe, don’t cry about it anymore, it really looks fine. I swear…

  Ava, I ran over a rabbit today in the Camino and I was so pissed because I got all that shit all over my new tires…

  Ava, so I was thinking—you know how you said the other day that if we had a girl, you’d wanna name her Cricket and I said that was fine? Well, I lied. Ava, we can’t name our kid after an insect, it just isn’t right…

  Then, I came upon the more serious letters.

  Ava, I read, Dad broke down again tonight. He said he doesn’t know if he can live without Mom anymore…

  Ava, I just got off the phone with you. It’s 2 a.m. I said I was tired but I was lying. I just wanted you to get your rest for your big exam tomorrow. Things are so shitty, and I can’t believe they can be this way since I’m with you. But they are, regardless…

  Ava, sometimes, I get sick of putting on the happy-happy extremities of a personality for people, you know, because sometimes I just feel like a nobody –like tonight. My parents are at it again. Dad loves Mom still and is all depressed, and Mom hates Dad for being so dramatic about it all, because she loves Chuck now.

  Ava, what if our demo doesn’t go anywhere? What if I don’t make it? What if I can’t offer you what you need or all your heart’s desires? It’s stupid…I’m trying not to be so dramatic and iffy about everything, but seriously…I want our lives to be amazing, you know?

  Ava, I think the band is going to break up. Everyone’s at each other’s throats, Kemper’s getting drunk and high every night. Nothing’s working out right with the music…

  Then, there were the deep, deep love letters.

  Ava, I never really knew if I should believe in God or not. But I met you and I fell in love with you, and you know, there has to be a God. Who else could’ve created something so amazing and then just dropped it into my life. You’re an incredible blessing that I needed.

  Ava, do you ever think how crazy it is that our hands fit together perfectly? They just mold to each other, you know? Like two pieces of a puzzle that just…click.

  Ava, when you told me you loved me tonight after the battle of the bands, I felt something surge through me that I’d never felt before. It was so incredible. I just looked at you, and I realized how much I really do love you, too. Like, I can’t even explain it. It’s like, every time you walk into a room, all the norma
l sounds go mute and everything/everyone else gets fuzzy and out of focus and there’s this glow around you and-okay, I sound like a total cheese puff, but…I’m crazy about you.

  I began to cry then, as I was shuffling through all the things in the box. Not just the letters, but also the gifts, the pictures…all the memories that had shaped and molded my happy life.

  “I don’t understand how this could happen!” I looked up at the ceiling, screaming out loud. “Why did this happen to me?”

  I pulled my knees up and rested my chin on them, wrapping my arms around my legs and squeezing. Trying to squeeze out all the tears. Trying to squeeze out all the pain.

  I got up and went to my mom’s room. She wouldn’t be home from work for another few hours or so. I went to the dresser beside her bed and opened the top drawer. I took out the bottle of sleeping pills and held them up. I just gazed at them for a moment, before going back into my room. I took a swig of Coca-Cola from the 12 ounce bottle on my nightstand and poured half the bottle into my mouth, swallowing several times to get them all down. I went over to the ‘Tyson Box’ and got some of his demo CDs and put them in my stereo. I then tipped the bottle once again, pouring the rest of the pills into my mouth and washing them down my throat with the Coca-Cola. I locked my bedroom door and crawled under my bed. Maybe Mom wouldn’t find me. She’d be devastated, but I just couldn’t do it without Tyson. I just couldn’t live without him anymore. I let my eyelids flutter closed as I listened to Tyson’s voice croon from my stereo. So many songs about our love…not long now, Tyson. I’ll be home with you soon…it’s not gonna hurt…it’s all gravy, baby…