Stories in Broken Glass

Chapter 2

Have you ever been accused of lying?

Have you ever bitten your tongue, tasting your own blood, to stop yourself from screaming at your elders as they tell you what happened even though they weren’t there?

Have you been accused of crashing your own car to get attention?

My name is Vera O’Neill and two months ago, I crashed my car for attention.

Many things have been said by people that weren’t there about what happened. Only one other person knows the truth, or at least did. Now the things I told in confidence to my father the night of the wreck, the things I saw, were relayed to my therapist.

Everything was chalked up to shock from the crash, seeing things that weren’t there. But the fading yellow marks on my neck where there and I knew I was right.

I learnt many things in my therapy lessons.

Firstly, I learnt what ASD was—acute stress disorder, it was what they had chalked it up to be. Stress.

I’ve become obsessed. I’ve spent countless hours searching for that shade of gold in my memories in real life.

It started with people, looking into the eyes of strangers, earning me more sessions in therapy. And now in jewellery, precious stones, how the light hits the water. I haven’t found it; I fear I will go my entire life without accomplishing this small task. Such a specific shade of gold, I can see it clear as day in my mind. But never when I open my eyes.