Stories in Broken Glass

Chapter Ten

I pulled out of the car park, driving along the back roads until I saw that familiar gravel drive.

I didn’t stop to think. I rarely do that anymore.

I drove until the lake came into view.

The water was cool on my legs, my dress was bunched up in my hands at my thighs.

My toes were sinking in the mud, it should have grossed me out how the moss was floating up against my feet and the fish that called this lake home were happily swimming around near me.

But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I had never thought about suicide.

Not even at my worst episodes. I had thought about the blonde guy killing me—my own death—but not by my hand.

I’m thinking about it now.

Eventually the blue-sky changes to orange and the water gets colder.

I find my way back to my childhood home.

Dad isn’t home—he never was, I don’t see way his would be now.

I find the key taped to the inside of the mailbox. And let myself in.

My old bedroom is now just an empty room used to store the winter clothes and blankets.

I instead sit myself down on the same couch we had when I was only a few years old.

I fall asleep sometime between then and now because I wake up to my dad opening the front door.

I’m doing that a lot lately. Sleeping.

He startles when he sees me.

“Vera?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Dad.” I get up from the couch and let my dad squeeze me to his hearts content. Resting my head on his shoulder, content to be surrounded by the dust of a house that used to be my home in the arms of my only parent.

Dad lets me sleep on the couch that night, even after hours of insisting that he’d make the spare bed up—the spare bed that was disassembled in the shed outside, at eleven at night.

I told him I would only be here for tonight, he told me that he’s take tomorrow morning off to eat breakfast with me.

We’re eating pancakes and bacon with a side of orange juice. It used to be ritual for us on Sunday mornings. I would make pancakes and Dad would make bacon.

Now, we sit in silence eating pancakes that don’t taste as good as they used to and bacon that a little bit too burnt.

We’re both thrown off at me being here. I haven’t been home in six months. I’ve avoided it since the episodes got worse.

I only came because it was Emma that called. Had it been anyone else and I would have sent a text saying that I couldn’t make it.

Every time Dad came up to see me, we went to lunch and talked about nothing, him leaving before we could actually start talking.

Now…I’m here.

Dad had to go back to work around lunch.

And I had to get back to school.

I’m halfway to my car when I stop in my tracks. A thought that came unbidden to me, Am I schizophrenic? Is that what’s wrong?

I didn’t realise I got into my car until my hand was poised to push my key into the ignition.

Just as quickly as the thought came, it was sent away buy that tingling in the back of my brain.

On my way out of town. I realise that I’m hungry.

It’s a foreign feeling. I haven’t felt this hungry in ages. Like being home is forcing me back into the mould of my old self.

The bakery in the middle of town has the best muffins ever. I know this for fact.

Turning around, a sense of déjà vu hits me.

I ignore it.

I’ve acquired my muffins. One blueberry, one apple and cinnamon oat and one classic chocolate chip.

I’m wearing the same dress as yesterday, a pair of socks I stole from dad and a pair of shorts in leu of underwear.

“Vera?” It’s Leigh.

She looks confused. She looks down at me with something akin to sympathy. It makes me angry; I don’t need her sympathy.

“Leigh.” I clip, taking the last bite of my muffin.

“I thought that you left?” She’s still standing by my table.

“There was a last-minute change of plans.” I don’t offer anything else, feeling weirdly defensive of my presence in my own hometown.

“I see.” Did she?

A bird landing on a roof across the road grabs my attention and holds it.

I can see Leigh look over to where I’m looking before sighing and saying, “It was nice to see you again, Vera.”

I don’t respond.

She doesn’t say anything else.

I watch her leave.