At first I was fine with it, after all Elena had helped bring me back from the brink with taking me in for a couple of months before I came to college. Without her, I wouldn’t be where I am right now but I’m nineteen, turning twenty this year.
I’m not a child, if I don’t want to see a shrink, then I don’t have to.
“Ahhh,” Scott moans when he walks into the kitchen. “Thanks, Ava.”
“Welcome,” I whisper with a nod of my head. He knows the drill; one word answers are all he gets.
He’s tried so many times over the last year to get more out of me but I never do say anything more, I just can’t bring myself to have a conversation with him just yet but I’m starting to warm to the idea of actually talking to him properly.
That’s another thing I can control, how I answer people, how I talk. Sure, it’d be nice to talk in complete sentences with a stranger or be in the same room as a man and not freak out.
Time. That’s what I need but it seems to be flying by lately and I’m still not getting anywhere, at least that’s how it feels.
“How are you feeling today, Ava?” Anita asks me, crossing her legs as she sits in her white, leather chair. The chair sits a little higher than the couch I’m on, I don’t know whether that’s meant to symbolize something.
I huff and cross my own legs, staring at her.
She always starts with this question, to say I’m fed up of hearing it is an understatement. I know exactly how this is going to go, I’ll say I’m doing good and then she’ll raise her brow at me and I’ll tell her what happened yesterday and then she’ll just sit there while I spill my guts out to her and basically analyze myself.
She never offers much insight into anything, instead she just scribbles in her notebook and makes noises in the back of her throat.
Shrugging my shoulders, I look away deciding to avoid the question all together.
Making that annoying noise in the back of her throat, she then says, “Shall we start with what made you miss your Monday appointment?”
Rolling my eyes, I pick at a loose thread on the arm of the couch and whisper, “I didn’t know there was a new lecturer.”
“Okay,” she says, drawing the word out and making a note in her book. “How did you feel when you found out about the new lecturer?”
“I dunno.” I shrug again. “I panicked and tried to leave.”
“In what way did you panic?” She lifts her eyes to me when I don’t answer her straight away. I think she’s meant to be encouraging me to tell her but it doesn’t do what she intends, it makes me want to not say anything at all.
“I just felt like I couldn’t breathe,” I say, avoiding her stare.
“Then what happened?”
I look around her office, focusing on the paintings she has hanging on the walls. They’re all minimal with just a few splashes of paint in bright colors. It’s the only thing that has any color in this office, everything else is stark white and cold.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I look back at her. “I tried to leave and he... he...” I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes closed, not wanting to remember how he touched my arm or how much I had freaked out.
Tapping my finger on the arm of the couch three times and then another three with my other hand, I focus on my breathing and try to get the crawling sensation off my skin.
“Ava?” she asks, the concern in her voice obvious.
I shake my head at her and lift my hand up, telling her silently that I need a second.
“He touched my arm,” I whisper.
I hate the way that I sound, so weak and fragile, and I don’t want to be that any more. I want to be strong and confident.
“Okay,” Anita says in her annoyingly calm voice. I flick my eyes up to her and take in her inky black hair that’s cut into a sharp, short bob and her glasses that are perched on the end of her nose. “And how did that make you feel?”
I roll my eyes at her but also at myself. “Scared,” I choke out.
Rationally, I know that I don’t have anything to be scared of, the room had been full of people but that didn’t stop me from freaking out, from feeling like I was going to pass out in front of them all.
“And thinking back now? Do you feel differently?” she asks, her brows high on her head and her pen poised to write down whatever I say.
“Well... yeah,” I huff. Of course I did now that I’ve had space and been able to think about it. I know that nothing would have happened in that lecture hall but when you’re in a situation like that you don’t have a rational mind.
She nods and the room is silent, with the exception of the scratching of her pen against the paper, I shift in my seat and chew on my lip waiting for her to say something else.
“What will you take away from that situation?” she asks when she looks back up to me.
I look away again not wanting to tell her that I’d thought about dropping that class. Facing everyone and seeing him again wasn’t a possibility. I just couldn’t do it.
“Ava? I can see those wheels turning in your head,” Anita says, raising her brows again. I wonder if they teach you that look when you train to be a shrink because she has perfected it.
“What-”
“You’re not dropping that class.” She places her notebook down and sits forward in her chair, interlocking her hands. “You need to face this head on, it’s the only way that you will get past it.”
My breaths start to get faster at just the thought of going back into that lecture hall and having to face him along with all of the students who saw me freak out.
“But-”
“No,” she interrupts and shakes her head. “Use your counting techniques if you need to.”
I hate how paralyzing my counting in three’s is but here she is telling me to use them when all I want is to not have to rely on them.
I frown, confused by what she’s saying. “You want me to use the counting?”
“If it will help you overcome this particular situation, then yes.”
I avert my eyes and look down at the hole in my jeans, pushing my finger in it and running it around the frayed edge. I can imagine all of their faces as I walk back into the class, what they will all think of me, what they will call me. I don’t want to be labeled or judged, not when I’ve made it this far without being noticed.
Shaking my head, I open my mouth to tell her that I can’t do it.
“You need to take these situations and turn them into a positive,” Anita says. “If you want to feel like you again, you need to take this first step and every step after this will be easier. I know it’s hard to take the first leap but once you’ve done it you will feel the difference.”
It’s hard, so much harder than I ever thought possible. I’ve changed so much over the last year but in other ways, I still feel exactly the same.
I’m still that frightened girl, the one who stared at the same spot on the wall for days, not talking to anyone.
“I want you to keep writing all of your thoughts and feelings in your diary.” I grimace at the thought of writing in that thing and lift up off the couch. “And you know where my office is, I’m always here to talk,” she says, standing up at the same time.
“Okay,” I whisper and keep my head down as I walk to the door and pull it open, putting my headphones on to block out all of the noise.
Throwing my blond hair up into a messy bun, I grab my headphones and shove my feet into my boots not bothering to put any makeup on. Not that I used to wear makeup all the time anyway because we never had any money but the couple of bits I did have were well used, it was my outlet, something that I could do just for me but I haven’t done it in so long. At least not outside of the apartment.
I prefer to go out with nothing on my face now, it makes me invisible.
Waving bye to Jess as I walk out of the apartment, I place my head phones on my head and walk out of the building and across to the campus.
Our apartment is in the perf
ect location, only a five-minute walk to the campus and right next to a grocery store. It’s in a central location and Jess’ dad’s contacts are the only reason why we managed to get such a good place.
I start to walk faster as the sky dims, not wanting to have to walk through the campus in the dark. Having to walk home in the dark after work is bad enough but doing it twice in one day is too much, I can already feel my hands starting to shake.
I hate working the late shift, I only do it once a week but I dread it. Several times I’ve tried to change it but no one wants it and I can’t say anything because I need this job to pay for the apartment.
The only good thing about this time of the day is that there’s hardly anyone around and I can keep my head up instead of having to look down at the ground.
Attending a college like this is something I always wished for but never thought I’d be able to, I can remember dreaming of going to this very one when I was in high school. It was well known for the sports and drama programs but I wasn’t here for any of those, my major was in Social Care. I wanted to be able to help kids that have the same home life that I did; to try and make a difference. So when Elena and Trevor pulled strings to get me in, I was over the moon. They insisted that I got in purely on my own merit but I knew that wasn’t the case.
The whole campus is amazing, with a mix of old, traditional and modern buildings. The cobbled paths and open green spaces with trees dotted around gives the whole place a homely feel.
Pulling open the carved wooden doors to the library, I start to walk up the seven flights of stairs. I like to tell myself that I use the stairs instead of the elevator to get some exercise but deep down I know it’s because I can’t handle being in a confined space.
Once I make it to the seventh floor, I pull my headphones off my head knowing that there’s only two other people who will be in the room and neither of them will bother me. That’s what I love most about this job, I don’t have to worry about talking to people or having meaningless conversations; I’ve always hated small talk. The people that work here are all the same, they just come in, do the work and then leave.
Waving at Angela as I walk to my station, I let my bag drop off my shoulder and start up the computer. Most people would hate this job, inputting data into a computer, but I love the repetitiveness of it. It relaxes me in a way that nothing else ever has.
I know what to expect when I come here, I know the list of items to input will be in the break room waiting for me to collect. I know how long it will take to input a certain amount of entries and most of all, I know no one will approach me.
After grabbing the pile of papers with my name attached to it, I sit down at my desk and start up the program, ready to type away. After doing this job for the last eighteen months, I can now type without even looking at the keyboard.
One hundred entries. I hate that number.
I can’t bear having a number that can’t be divided by three.
Pulling the first sheet off the top, I move it to the side knowing that I’ll put that back in the break room for someone on the next shift.
Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I try to forget about the extra sheet and start typing away.
Halfway through my pile of papers, I feel my cell vibrate and pull it out, seeing Elena’s name flash up on the screen.
She’s been trying to ring me every day since I missed my session with Anita and I’ve been putting off speaking to her. Instead, I’ve been messaging her to tell her I’m fine.
I can’t put it off much longer though, I know she won’t stop until she’s heard my voice so I decide to call her when I finish my shift.
Looking at the clock above the door, I see that I only have two and a half hours left so it’ll be fine until then. I know that Elena will want to know what had happened and I feel obliged to tell her.
I hate that everyone still sees me as broken.
At one stage, I was. Now though, I feel less broken. I’m healing, it may be slow but I’m getting there.
I try my hardest to forget about it all and tap my fingers on the desk three times, then another three. After getting up to thirty I feel calmer so I press my fingers against the keyboard and start to type again.
“Honey, are you sure you’re okay? I can come down for a visit, it’s no bother,” Elena says down the line as I walk through the campus, careful not to stray from the lights that line the path.
Talking to Elena while I’m walking home keeps my mind off the fact that it’s dark and that no one but me is around. Normally when I walk home, every little noise or shadow scares me but when I’m distracted it goes much quicker and it’s a lot less stressful.
“No, no, it’s fine, really. I don’t need you to come but you know you’re welcome anytime,” I say, adjusting the bag on my shoulder and crossing the road.
I smile when I hear her huff a breath. Sometimes, I swear that she uses things like this as an excuse to come and see me. What she doesn’t realize though is that she doesn’t need an excuse. If she wants to come and visit, then she can.
“Really?”
I chuckle at her high pitched tone just as I see my building in sight. “Yeah, you know I love spending time with you.” I nod, even though she can’t see me, and push the key into the apartment door. “How is everyone?”
This was where I have to try to take control of the conversation because she can talk about the family for hours if I’m not careful. One time, she had me on the phone for three hours. I mean, I even had cramp from holding my cell to my ear for so long.
Pulling the envelopes out of the mailbox for our apartment, I start to walk up to the second floor. I continue to listen to her as she tells me what Trevor is currently building and laughing when she says that he’s in the cabin more and more lately.
Trevor’s cabin is his man cave. It’s where he spends a lot of his free time, building anything and everything out of wood. When I lived with them, all I did was sit in that cabin with him and watch the way he would use his tools. The smell of wood brings back so many memories of us sat in there in silence. Silence that we both understood. I never had to explain anything with Trevor.
“I swear, honey, he’s married to the thing. Only time I see him is when he wants to be fed. He won’t even show me what he’s building.” I smirk, knowing exactly why he was doing it.
It was coming up to their thirty-year wedding anniversary and Trevor was working hard on a surprise for her.
Living with those two before I came to college was fantastic. There was never a dull moment and sometimes I wonder what would have happened to me if they wouldn’t have taken me in that day.
I would have been put back into the system and I knew first hand that it wasn’t an experience that I wanted to repeat.
When I was first put into the system years ago, the first home was amazing. They looked after all the kids the same and made sure we were all fed and clothed. Once I moved into my second, I really saw the true meaning of a bad home.
I thought what I had grown up in was bad but this was nothing in comparison. Luckily, I only lasted in that home for three days before I was moved back home to my mom and dads.
They’d tried to do better, they came off the drugs and even went to parental classes. The first few weeks were perfect, just what I had always dreamed of but then the drugs slowly started back up and so the cycle went on.
Going and getting your parents their next hit at the age of eleven isn’t what I should have been doing but there was no other option. I thought that when I walked in on my mom OD’ing that would’ve been the pinnacle of my life, the changing factor.
It wasn’t though. That came six years later.
Then I really, truly, saw exactly what my dad thought of me. How much he thought I was worth.
Three thousand dollars to be exact. Give or take a couple hundred bucks.
Shaking the bad memories from my head, I try to concentrate on what Elena is saying. I wave at Jess and Scott as I pass t
he living room on the way to my bedroom.
Pushing into my room, I toe my boots off and shut the door, bouncing on my bed and closing my eyes.
“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” I say, not really thinking about what is coming out of my mouth.
“Wait... You know don’t you?”
“Erm...” I bite my lip, my eyes going wide even though she can’t see me. “I... I...”
“Oh, honey, its fine. I won’t try and get it out of you.” I breathe a sigh of relief and lean back, glad that she won’t try because I’m hopeless at keeping secrets. “Unless...” She giggles.
My own chuckle mixes with hers, I love talking to Elena. She never tries to make me talk about anything, always keeping it about what is going on in normal life or the news. Once, she even talked about the weather for an hour.
Her voice sounds like home and instantly calms me, it makes me feel like... well... me.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve got things that you need to be doing,” she says with sadness in her voice.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and whisper, “Yeah, I’ll see you soon?”
“Of course you will, honey. We’ll go shopping!”
“Yay,” I say with fake enthusiasm.
She laughs knowing how much I despise shopping. The people, the noise, all the stress, it’s already making me feel icky. “Love you, honey.”
My eyes start to mist over and I croak out, “You too.” Then end the call.
It’s a word that I’ve never said to anyone before, it’s something that’s so foreign, I’m not sure it will even come out of my mouth.
I’ve never been told that I was loved, not until I moved in with Elena anyway. Over time, I got used to it but I still can’t say it back, I just hope that she knows I feel the same.
One day, I’ll be able to say it back to her.
Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday it will leave my mouth.
“Birdie?” God, I haven’t been called that since he left. Just thinking about him now brings a smile to my face. He always had a way of making me feel all fuzzy inside.
Flying Free Page 2
