Broken Glass

Home > Other > Broken Glass > Page 13
Broken Glass Page 13

by Tabitha Freeman


  I still hadn’t heard anything from my mother, though I did expect to see her on the day of my evaluation.

  When that sixty-day evaluation finally came, I was up bright and early, eager to get it over and done with. I was ready to get the hell out of this place and I just knew Julianne was going to let me go home. I just knew it.

  At four-thirty, I went into Julianne’s office as usual, and took a seat. She wasn’t there yet, so I took the opportunity to look in her fridge for my typical large glass of chocolate milk. However, there was no chocolate milk in the fridge. This left me with an overwhelming feeling of…well, sadness. I sat back down in my comfy chair, and after ten minutes of Julianne still not appearing, I burst into tears. I got this way sometimes. Little things seemed to build up into mountains and made my mind wander to thoughts of Tyson. I put my head in my hands and just let the tears come. This was awful. If Julianne came in and saw me this way, she surely wouldn’t let me go home.

  Just then, I heard the door open and close behind me. Oh great, I thought. There’s Julianne. What’s she going to say when she sees me crying? I’ll tell her I didn’t take my medication today. Yeah, that’s what I’ll say. She won’t base my well-being on that…

  “Erm, are you all right?”

  Wait a minute. That wasn’t Julianne’s voice. I turned around in my chair and found myself facing a tall, slender boy with a crop of dark, unruly curls on his head and a confused frown on his lips.

  “Who are you?” I demanded. Who dared come in Julianne’s office during my time? Worse yet, during my very important evaluation.

  “I could ask you the same,” he replied evenly, cocking his head to the side. “Are you the new secretary?”

  I was surprised both at the question and his foreign accent.

  “No,” I answered. “I’m…you tell me who you are.” He sighed and walked past me. I noticed for the first time that there was something in his hand.

  It was a gallon of chocolate milk.

  He went to the fridge and put it inside.

  “Where’d you get that?” I asked him, raising my right eyebrow.

  “I made it,” he replied, and I detected a hint of slight irritation in his voice.

  “Oh,” I said, as the realization hit me then. “You’re Julianne’s son, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I am,” he replied, smiling slightly. “What gave it away?”

  “The chocolate milk,” I said. “Julianne tells me you make it.”

  “Do you like it?” He asked. I couldn’t help but smile myself.

  “It’s wonderful,” I told him.

  “Well, thank you,” he said graciously, with a nod of his head.

  “What’s your name?” I asked him then. Julianne had never told me.

  “Conner,” he said, coming over and extending his hand. I shook it.

  “You don’t sound like her,” I noticed.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Your accent,” I said. “It’s…not American, is it?”

  “No, not quite,” he replied, with a chuckle. “I was raised in England, and I live with my father’s parents year-round there. I’ve just graduated from the university, so I’m taking a year here to be with my Mum and Dad.”

  “How interesting,” I mused. “You do resemble your mom, though.”

  “Yeah, I get that a lot,” he said, a sparkle crossing into his dark green eyes then. “So, you’re not the new secretary, I suppose?”

  “No,” I replied. “I’m…um, I’m a patient of your mother’s actually.” My voice became very quiet and I couldn’t really look him in the face anymore.

  “Oh,” he said, nodding, and his tone didn’t change at all, as if it didn’t matter that I was a nutcase.

  “I’ve been waiting for almost half an hour for Julianne,” I told him. “I come here four times a week and she’s never late. Do you know where she is?”

  “Yeah, she’s just picking up some medicine for my dad,” Conner told me. “He got sick on the plane ride back from England last week and it’s turned into a nasty stomach virus.”

  “Julianne went on her family vacation to England?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, but she flew back before me and Dad did,” he said. “Something important came up here.”

  “Oh, no,” I muttered. “I had no idea…”

  “What’s that?” Conner asked, puzzled.

  “Oh, nothing,” I recovered, quickly. Then, the door opened and Julianne rushed in.

  “Sorry I’m late, Ava, I—” She began, and then stopped when she saw Conner. “Oh, hi, Conner, honey. What are you doing here?”

  “Just dropping off some chocolate milk,” he said, giving her a hug and a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Why, thank you, son,” Julianne said, smiling. “So, I see you two have met. Wonderful. Ava’s always been curious as to who makes that magical chocolate milk, haven’t you, Ava?” I nodded.

  “I’m sorry about your vacation,” I said suddenly, avoiding her eyes. “I-I didn’t know you were going out of the country…”

  “Ava, we’ve been through this,” Julianne said gently. “It’s fine. You needed me back here, for both my therapeutic and medical help. You’re not my first patient to do that with pills, you know.” Great, why’d she have to say that in front of…I glanced at Conner, who was now staring at me, his eyes wider than before.

  “Pills?” he said aloud. “Wait a minute. You’re…you’re ‘Sylvia’?” I stared at him.

  “No, I’m Ava,” I said, a little huffily. “Seriously, what is it with everyone calling me Sylvia around here? I don’t—”

  “Sylvia Plath,” Conner replied, before Julianne could get a word in. “You know, the famous poet who tried to kill herself three times? She popped a whole bottle of sleeping pills the second time, like—” But he stopped. Julianne was giving him a look.

  “Like me,” I finished, calmly. “Just like me.”

  There was a minute of extremely awkward silence. Then, Julianne spoke up, in a rather unusually loud voice,

  “Conner, thanks for coming by! But now, I’ve got an evaluation with Ava, so you should probably go.”

  “See you, Mum,” he replied, going quickly to the door. He turned slightly as he opened it and looked at me. “Nice to meet you…Ava.”

  I just nodded in reply and then he left.

  “I’m sorry about that, Ava,” Julianne apologized.

  “Do you talk about me with your family?” I asked her, feeling betrayed. “How else could your son know about me?”

  “I give them the bare minimum details about my work,” she hastily explained. “They don’t know all about you, Ava, so don’t get worked up, all right? I had to tell them something when I had to rush off from England, didn’t I? I couldn’t lie to them. They’re my family.”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so upset…anyway, it doesn’t matter. I just want to get this evaluation through with so I can go home.” Julianne glanced away then, a distressed look crossing over her face.

  “Yes, about that, Ava,” she said, with a heavy sigh.

  “I am going home, right?” I blurted out, leaning forward in my chair. “You can’t make me stay here any longer, Julianne! Please, you are letting me go, aren’t you?” She didn’t answer right away, which was really answer enough for me.

  “The thing is,” she said slowly. “You’re progress hasn’t been very sharp, Ava.”

  “What?” I breathed. “What have I done wrong? I’ve been perfect since I’ve been here!”

  “All right,” Julianne said tiredly. “For instance, your physical health is still in ridiculous condition. You’re fifteen pounds underweight, and as far as I can tell, those dark circles under your eyes indicate an incredible lack of sleep. You never sleep, Ava.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “And as far as your mental condition—” She began, but I looked up at her quickly.

  “You still think I’m crazy, don’t you?” I as
ked her in the quietest voice I could muster.

  “Crazy isn’t the word I’d use,” she replied, frowning. “Ava, you’re not crazy. You’re not nuts, you don’t have screws loose in your head, and you certainly couldn’t be considered insane. But you’re not well. Mentally and emotionally you’re still very sick and until I see some major improvement, and until I see that the treatments here are working for you, I cannot let you go home. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Three strikes and you’re out?” I whispered, with a bitter chuckle. “Sometimes I wished I’d just succeeded the third time so people wouldn’t have to worry about my incurable mental sickness.”

  “Saying things like that won’t help your situation any,” Julianne told me firmly. Then, her face softened, and she added, “But, on a lighter note, you’re going to be able to make day trips home.”

  I didn’t smile, or even act like I was happy, though inside I was grateful. My mom had been the only one left in my life and I’d pushed her away. I wanted more than anything to go home to her, even if it was temporary.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Julianne called. I turned and watched my mother enter the room. I stood up to face her.

  She looked terrible. Thin, pale, tired.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said, softly. She managed a smile and gave me an awkward hug.

  “Hello, Julianne,” my mom greeted as we pulled away.

  “I’m not going home, Mom,” I blurted out, my eyes meeting hers. I was surprised to see something like relief pass through her face. It made me angry.

  “How long will she have to stay?” Mom turned to Julianne.

  Julianne didn’t answer right away. Instead, she shuffled through some papers on her desk, before letting out a heavy sigh. She finally looked up at my mother.

  “Twelve months.”

  I remember a wave of nausea coming over me, causing me to fall backwards. Then, everything went black.

  14.

  I was only out for maybe thirty seconds. When I came to, I was still on the floor, now cradled in my mother’s arms. My first thought was that I was dead…actually, it was also my first hope. When I realized I was still very much alive and that I would be in this institution for the next year, a huge wave of anger hit me.

  I sat up, violently shaking off my mother’s gentle grip. She stepped back, unsure of what to do. I got to my feet, ignoring the sudden dizziness that came over me. I walked up to Julianne’s desk and looked at her, hard.

  “Why?” I asked. She just shook her head.

  “I told you why,” she responded, tiredly. “Ava, you can’t expect me to just let you go home because I like you. You have to get better.”

  “Is there any chance she might be able to get out earlier?” My mother spoke up. “If she shows signs of improvement?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Julianne said, standing up from her desk chair. “Her chance to get out of a long-term commitment to Craneville was today. She had two months, Mrs. Darton. She failed to meet the few health and mental expectations we asked of her. I have no other choice but to give her twelve months institutionalized here.”

  The room fell quiet and even I had no rebuttal to this. There it was, laid out plain and simple. It was my own fault that I wasn’t in any shape to go home. I knew I’d skimped out on eating right, on sleeping, on even trying to get better.

  “Well, I think I’ll go to my room now,” I finally said, turning away from both of them and heading to the door. Neither Julianne or Mom tried to stop me as I walked out of the office.

  Nurse Josephine was standing at the doors leading into Ward 4.

  “Hey, baby!” she smiled at me. “What’s the word? You leavin’ us?”

  “No,” I said. “Can I get in, please?” She looked at me for a second, and I wondered if she was surprised, or if she’d really seen this coming. She punched in the code and stepped aside as the ward doors slid open.

  “Thank you,” I said and walked into the ward. Aurelia and Channing were standing there.

  “How’d your evaluation go?” Aurelia asked immediately. I didn’t answer her as I went into my room, closing the door behind me. It didn’t take Aurelia two seconds to barge in after me.

  “Hey, I asked you a question!” she said. “Are you in or out, cheerleader?”

  I slowly turned around to look at her.

  “Get out of my room,” I said, calmly. She just stared.

  “No,” she smirked, putting her hands on her hips. She leaned forward until her face was only inches from mine. “Are you going home?”

  “Get out of my face, Aurelia,” I told her. She didn’t move. I put my hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her away from me. I wasn’t a violent person and I wasn’t going to start now.

  “Please leave,” I said and turned away from her again. I heard her mumble something under her breath before stalking out of my room. I let out a tired sigh.

  “How much longer are you in for?”

  I turned around and saw Channing standing there in my doorway.

  “A year,” I whispered, sitting down on my bed.

  “Oh,” she replied. “My evaluation is tomorrow.”

  I nodded.

  “I hope you come out better than I did,” I murmured. Tears were forming in my eyes. She didn’t say anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her walk away. But then she came back.

  “Julianne wouldn’t make you stay unless you needed to,” she said, softly. “Some say the best things in life are also the worst.”

  “Who says that?” I asked her, not looking up.

  “People,” she said simply. “See you later.”

  “See you later.”

  And she was gone.

  I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes. I saw Tyson’s face immediately. Once again I asked myself why, why, why had all this happened?

  “Ava?”

  I opened my eyes.

  “Yes, Mom?”

  “Do you mind if I come in?” she asked.

  “I don’t care,” I replied. I didn’t make any effort to sit up or acknowledge her presence properly.

  “Ava, Julianne’s a good woman,” she said. “Everything will turn out all right for you, Ava. I just know it.”

  I wanted to shout at her. I felt like all she wanted was a full-time babysitter for me—someone else to take care of me so she wouldn’t have to. She, along with everyone else, thought I was crazy and nuts, no matter what Julianne said. Who wants to have a psycho for a daughter or a friend? No one. And I knew it. And it hurt.

  “Are you going to talk to me?” Mom asked, and I could hear the desperation in her voice. I didn’t reply. I closed my eyes and waited. She would leave sooner or later.

  I was surprised when she did actually leave the room abruptly. I hadn’t expected her to really leave.. I sat up after she’d slammed the door.

  “You didn’t even try to defend me,” I said aloud, talking to the door. “You didn’t even try.”

  The next day, word had spread fast about me failing my evaluation. As soon as I walked into the activities room for breakfast, I was getting sympathy looks left and right. The old nurses sitting at the food tables were a little more candid about it than most, assuring me very loudly that everything would be okay and that a year would fly by. I wanted to punch them in their big mouths.

  I sat with Henry and Shakespeare, as usual, though over the past week or so, Channing had also been sitting with us. Aurelia now sat alone and sulked through every meal.

  I sat down at the table and greeted the three of them. It was an awkward quiet for a minute and I knew I would have to address the fact that I’d be at Craneville for another year before everyone could get comfortable.

  “Listen, I know you all know about my evaluation,” I said abruptly. No one said anything.

  “It’s okay,” I said, with a heavy sigh. “It’s what’s going to happen and there’s no sense in acting like I just died,
so let’s resume things as normal, can we?”

  Henry chuckled. Shakespeare nodded and started to eat. Channing was the one to actually start a “normal” conversation.

  “I was thinking about asthma this morning,” she said. We all just looked at her. She smiled at us.

  “Yeah,” she went on. “I was thinking about asthma...I used to have it when I was little. Really bad. Every week, I was having an asthma attack. I almost died a few times, actually. I just couldn’t get any air. But now...now, everything is fine. I don’t have it. It’s like I never had it. It’s like I never almost died...it’s the weirdest feeling. Knowing that I could’ve died. But I didn’t. And if I had died, no one would have known that the asthma would just disappear later in my life and if I were to die, something completely different would kill me.”

  It was quiet for a moment, and then I burst out laughing. Henry and Shakespeare started in as well, and before we knew it, the four of us were in tears.

  I realized then that if Channing passed her evaluation that day, I would miss her.

  After a short group therapy session that afternoon, I pulled Channing aside.

  “I hope it all goes really well in there,” I murmured to her. She gave me a surprised look and smiled slightly.

  “Thanks, Ava,” she said. I nodded and we walked towards the activities room.

  “Hey, Ava,” Channing said suddenly, stopping abruptly and turning to me.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re gonna be okay,” she said, softly. I just looked at her.

 

‹ Prev