The Broken Mirror

They Tried to Make Me Go To Rehab

I can feel the bright hospital lights through my eyelids. There's a nasal cannula in my nose, which is better than having that tube down my throat. I can hear everyone talking around me. Somehow, I am alive, again. I was not trying to kill myself, but just not feel for a while, but if death had taken me, it would have been a warm welcome after that fight with my mother.

I don't want to open my eyes, yet. I don't want to have an awkward conversation. The room I can tell is full of people. I hear Cookie, my dad and Apollo. I also hear my friends, Gabrielle, Ethan, Kristin, and Brittany. I wait for a moment and then I hear his voice, Xavier's. I know this is supposed to be serious, but I cannot help but think, how many brain cells I've killed over the last couple of years. I'm getting tired of myself.

I take a deep breath and slowly open my eyes, ready to face them. They all stop talking as I try to sit up slowly, which was a bad idea. The movement makes the room spin. I take in the sight of them all. They are either sitting on the floor or on the couch. There are more chairs in here than there should be. Xavier has that sketchpad, again.

"I need water," I finally say. Xavier gets up and grabs a pitcher of water and pours me a cup. He sticks a straw in it and helps me to drink. I watch him as I sip on the water that helps my dry throat. I don't know what to say. Should I apologize for f*****g up again? I won't be asking for my mother, again. She's dead to me.

"You went into respiratory failure," Cookie tells me. I nod my head. Not my first time, yeah, I know I got dead brain cells.

"Coma?" I ask her. She shakes her head no. Good; it was not as bad as last time. I had a feeling when I didn't have a breathing tube and I feel like I'm going through withdrawal.

"It's still been two days," Xavier tells me. I can barely look at him. He pushes some of my hair behind my ear. He sits next to me on the bed, facing me. My guilt is overwhelming, because my family is back in here, worried about me. Now, I have my friends looking at me the same way. I lay my head back realizing there is nothing I can say, and there is not much they can say to me.

I know they all must be angry with me. I'm angry with me for being such a f**k up. They all look at me with anticipation to say something, but I don't. My emotions growing with every awkward second. When it finally becomes too much, tears finally roll down my cheek and Xavier grabs me quickly. He was watching me the entire time. He holds me like he always does, and I bury my face in his chest. They all deserve better than me.

They keep me for a couple of days. Xavier does not leave my side, missing class to be with me. I argue with him about it, but he does not want to hear it. He takes me home when they release me, making sure I get settled in. My grandmother allows him to stay with me for one night.

My family flew home, once I was released. I heard my mom left after they admitted me to the hospital. I did not ask where she was, they decided to tell me as if I care anymore. Who wants to talk to a woman who wants you dead? She would have slammed my head into the floor if I hadn't punched her in the face. How did we get here? When a mother holds their baby when they are young, do they think that one day they will try and smash that baby's head into a wood floor? She was probably disappointed that the fentanyl didn't take me like it was trying to.

I finally can convince Xavier to go back to school. I think he's scared to leave me alone. I would be scared, too, but I need to be alone. I have things to think about. I listen to music and get lost in my thoughts. I've been having conversations with Cookie when Xavier is not in the same room about what I need. I'm tired of my behavior.

If I do not take care of myself, there will be a next time, and in that next time, am I lucky enough to cheat death? Or will I or someone I love's life be taken from me like Calypso? Do I want more blood on my hands? The demon I see in the mirror needs to be exorcised. I only know of one way of doing that.

I sit by my window staring out into the familiar view from my bedroom window. The only difference is the pool is complete and waiting for us to use it. I hear a knock at my door. "Come in!" I yell. I don't turn around to see who it is.

"Breathtaking," Xavier says, sitting next to me on the window seat.

"I know," I say without looking up at first. I turn my head and see he was never staring outside but was talking about me. I feel like a mess. I have not really done my hair, there is no makeup and I'm wearing sweats.

"How are you feeling? I rushed over here after class," he asks me. I take his hand and pull him to follow me towards my closet. I turn on the lights and walk over to the full-length mirror sitting in there. I pull off the sheet I cover it with.

"This mirror was my sister's," I tell him. "When I want to feel close to her, I come in here and stare at it. I know it sounds narcissistic, but I pretend I am looking at her, and not me. Not the monster who took her life." He stares at the reflection for a moment and then wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the side of my neck. I turn to face him. "I haven't been in here for months since being with you."

He kisses my forehead and I can feel hot tears threatening to spill out. The very thing that killed her, I cannot seem to stop doing. "I remember I hit you with the bottle and tried to punch you."

"Shh," he responds to me. I shake my head.

"No, I wanted to hurt you to get you to leave me alone," I will not be soothed. I need to do this.

"But you didn't hurt me."

"But I wanted too!" I yell. He pulls away. I bite my lip looking up at him. I take a deep breath before I say the next thing. "I'm going away."

He backs away and walks out of the closet. I follow behind him. He wants to pace. "What do you mean, going away?"

"I've checked myself back into rehab and I'll be there for a couple of months," I inform him.

"Months?" I nod my head and he looks like he wants to punch a wall.

"I remember what your face looked like when you were trying to get me help. Your face haunts me when I think of how you looked when I woke up. You're scared of leaving my side," I tell him ready to cry. "I cannot have you look at me like that, again."

He plops himself down on the bed thinking. I walk up to him and he grabs me burying his head into my belly. I wrap my arms around his shoulders. He looks up at me. "I believe you need to go."

I sigh deeply, because the truth cuts me, especially from his lips. "I care so much about you...," he goes to speak, and I shake my head and bring my forehead to his. "I care for you greatly and I've never allowed any guy to get as close to me as you have. That look you gave me after the party and just a week ago, you gave it to your mother. It was fury mixed with hurt, pain, and fear."

"What are you saying Siren?" he asks me.

"I told you, I cannot have you look at me like I'm your mother. I am a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode again and you could be my next victim."

"You're breaking up with me?" He asks me. His arms fall to his side releasing me.

"I have been using you as a crutch to stay sober. I need to be able to stand on my own two feet. I don't know how long it's going to take me to not just be clean but remove the triggers that cause me to act this way."

"What do you mean how long? You're already going away for months!"

"You think a couple of months is enough? It could take my whole life, but what I do know is that you can't wait for me to get my life right. You deserve someone with a lot less baggage. Someone who can love you the way you have loved me," I tell him.

"Baggage? I chose your baggage and gladly wanted to carry it."

"But you can't! That's for me to do. Don't fight me on this." Xavier brings my face closer to his and lands his lips on mines. The kiss feels desperate like he's trying to convince me that I am making a mistake. I go to run my hands through his hair, but he grabs my wrist. He yanks it down. He shakes his head. He gently pushes me, so he can stand up.

He walks towards the door and picks up his bag. He goes inside the bag and pulls out his sketchpad. He tears something out and throws it on my bed. "Siren N. Alexander, I'll see you when you get back." He leaves the room.

I go over to see what it was, and it's a sketch of me sleeping peacefully. I crumble to the floor, not sure how I am going to recover. Was this even a good idea? Maybe I need him for this, and it's that thought that makes me realize, no. I am doing this for him, I am going to rehab for him, and I cannot rely on him. He needs to know I can stand without him. I can no longer be a wilting flower.

I thought it through. I spoke to my grandmother, who prayed about it and told me I was making the right decision. I never questioned when she said she prayed about it. She was always right, then. I know it's for the best, but it doesn't feel that way. Why doesn't it feel like I made the right decision?

I eventually go back to school, while I wait to admit myself. I must get my affairs in order with my professors. My grandmother spoke to them, so they plan to have me finish online. My father hires a tutor for me, to bring a laptop so I can do my schoolwork. I'm not allowed any electronics that gives me access to the internet while I am in there, so I cannot keep the laptop for my school work.

My father enters Cookie's home with a bag. As I sit at the counter in our kitchen, shocked to seem him. I jump off the seat and run to him. What is he doing here?

"I have a gift for you," he tells me. I look at him like he is crazy.

"You flew here, just to give me a gift?" I ask him completely curious. He holds out a guitar case. It's black and my name is engraved on it. There are wings on there, and I think it's weird.

"What's with the wings around my name?" I ask him. He shrugs.

"Felt it suited you," he tells me. I roll my eyes, knowing he's referencing my middle name. He hands me an iPod. He tells me there is music on there that I love and, some beats on there, waiting for someone to add some vocals to them. "I think right now will be the best time for you to start writing, again."

I take the guitar case from him and open it up. It's this beautiful Gibson Montana Hummingbird, and I could cry holding it. He knew my personality, too well. "I had this one specially made for you. So, that you can use with your left-hand," my dad informs me. I hug him again. The guitar sits in a red-velvet lining. This guitar is the expression of who I am. Ornate and fiery. "When you get out, I expect to make a demo tape with you." He says winking. I nod my head.

My grandmother baked this cake for me and invited all my friends over. Xavier didn't want to come over for the party. We eat dinner and play board games, some very intense games of Monopoly, Uno, and this new one called Sequence. Ethan and Gabrielle are extremely competitive and Brittany cheats. They allow me to laugh and forget where I'll be in the morning. But it's not enough to make me forget that Xavier is not here.

When they all go to leave. Gabrielle stays behind. We decided to have a sleepover. I sit in the living room with our sleeping bags taking up residence where the coffee table used to be. I sit between her legs while she braids my hair. We, of course, are watching Dirty Dancing. She thought watching Mean Girls, would be in poor taste.

"How is he?" I ask her. She sighs loudly.

"Are we going to talk about him every time?" She responds. How things have changed.

"Don't act like you don't want us back together," I tell her. She chuckles a bit because she knows I'm right. They all called me asking me if I had lost my mind. They've been comforting him as I asked them to do. "I have to do this."

"I know, that's why I stopped pushing you. I'm proud of you," she says to me. I touch her hand. I'm not just going for Xavier, but I'm going for her, too. She's become like my sister. All of them really. How many times can I do this before they walk away from me? "I'm going to miss nights like this."

"I won't be gone that long," I say laughing.

"No, when you come back, I'll be working at night," she tells me. "I needed more money, so I got a job as a waitress at a club in Ybor." I want to turn around and face her, but she's in the middle of braiding my hair.

"Seriously?" I ask her. She parts my hair and starts working on a new braid.

"Yup, we need more money," she tells me. "I'm excited, tips mean, more money."

"Yeah," strange, something I never think about, having a job outside of my passions. I'm not as normal as I want to pretend to be. She finishes up my hair just in time for the ending and we dance like we always do. When it's over we crawl into our sleeping bags and fall asleep.

My phone begins to vibrate next to me on the floor. I turn over and see Xavier's name. Its text a message telling me to come outside. I look over to Gabrielle who is still out. She could sleep through a hurricane. I get out of the sleeping bag and open my front door to see his truck in the driveway next to Gabrielle's little car. I walked over to the passenger side and opened the door and get in. He hands me a bottle of water and I just smile. 

We sit quietly for a moment drinking water. "I couldn't let you leave without seeing you one more time," he finally says, telling me why he was there. I hug him and he kisses me. He pulls away. "I need to say something to you."

"What?" I ask him, searching his eyes.

"These have been the hardest couple of days for me. I love you, and you're going to have to do a lot harder to push me away." I pull back a little bit to get a better look at him. He has not been shaving, and I like this look on him. I run my fingers through the short beard that's growing on his face. I kiss him. I cannot say it back, because I need to be able to do this without him.

"I know you love me," I say to him, and I go back to kissing him. He pulls me on top of him. I'm just in a nightshirt and panties. They are quickly off my body. He reclines his seat to give us space and I help to pull off his basketball shorts and shirt. We kiss each other with everything we have, and I adjust myself so I can slowly ride him. He holds onto my hips as I move up and down. He joins my movements, hungry for my body. I stop for a moment and focus on kissing him, not wanting to stop just, yet. Cherish this.

He sits up and guides my hips as his mouth claims my neck, biting me. It sends the most delicious sensation through me and I grip his back. We go until we cannot take any more of each other. We can, but we are tired, sweaty and breathless. Our mouths meet again, kissing each other sweetly, but it's a goodbye kiss. We get dressed in silence and I get out of his truck. He grabs my arm as I go climbing out.

"Let me know when you are home," he tells me, and I nod my head. I take his hand and kiss it. I hop down and walk to the door. I watch him back out and leave.

I brush my teeth next to Gabrielle in the bathroom. She is coming with us to drop me off.

"What is on your neck?" She asks me. I'm still half awake, exhausted by last night's event. "How did you get a hickey in your sleep?" I wake up fully and search my neck in the mirror. Xavier left a mark on my neck. He did that on purpose. He never leaves marks on my neck.

"I...uh," I don't even know how to explain this. She just starts laughing.

"I can't with you two," she responds. "So, is this off or on now?"

"Still off," I answer her. I touch it and it's a little sore. "He came to say goodbye." She rolls her eyes at me. She finishes up and leaves the bathroom. We get ready to leave and I sit in the passenger seat of my grandmother's car and Gabrielle sits in the back. I pray my grandmother does not see the massive hickey on my neck. Although I think she has, and just decided it's not important to mention.

We drive for about an hour and she can see the panic in my face. Gabrielle is in the back playing on her phone. "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you are making the right decision," she quietly says to me.

"Am I?" Questioning my decision. "I've done rehab before and look how well that's gone." There has been this fear in me that I'm just starting a continuous cycle. Xavier's mom said she went several times, and she's still glued to her bottle.

"But this time you are choosing to go, not being forced because prison is the alternative," she tells me. I nod my head. I watch as we pull into the facility. We get out of the car and I hug Gabrielle.

"This is where we part," I tell her. She smiles, but she looks sad. We hug for a long while. When I let go, I grab my bag and guitar case. I start walking with my grandmother inside. I look back at Gabrielle one more time and then head towards the door.

"You'll be out in time for finals," Cookie tells me.

"Thank you," I tell her.

"Don't thank me, your dad paid everyone extra money for this. So, do your work." I smile and nod my head.

"I love you, Cookie."

"I love you, too." I check-in and a nurse comes up to us. She looks like a no-nonsense type, blonde woman. Her face looks a little pinched.

"Welcome, Ms. Alexander," she says to me.

"Call me Siren," I tell her. She shakes her head no at me.

"No, here we call everyone by their last name unless being seen by the doctors," she informs me. "I am Nurse Stevens, just call me Stevens. Follow me to your room." I wave goodbye to Cookie. I take my things and follow her to my assigned room. My name is already on the door. There is another name there. Kline. We enter the room, but whoever Kline is, is not there.

"Who's Kline?" I ask her.

"Your roommate. You will meet her later. Get unpacked and you will get a tour of this place." She helps me unpack my stuff. I know she's really trying to search if I had anything on me. I don't. I unpack the framed picture Xavier drew of me. When we are done, she takes me to get a tour of the place. It's massive. The rooms are in a dorm-style for both males and females. At least I get some type of dorm experience. There's a nice cafeteria. There is an art room and it makes me think of Xavier.

A fitness center that I will take advantage of. I know putting on unwanted weight is something that happens in here. There is a rec room that has a television and other things in there for entertainment. I can see other people walking around and doing their activities. She shows me where the bathroom is where I will have to shower with other women. I did not want a facility that felt like I was at the spa, like the last one I went to.

"Any questions?" She asks me after telling me about the place.

"Just, what am I supposed to do now?" I ask her. Treatment doesn't start until tomorrow.

"Time to meet your doctors," she responds to me. She takes me to an office and opens the door. A man and woman stand on their side of a mahogany desk that's filled with pictures and knick-knacks. The woman is slender, white brunette. The man is a decent height, bald black man. His beard making up for the hair that is missing on the top of his head. They are dressed in lab coats. "This is Siren Alexander."

"Come in, I am Dr. Amelia Bryce, and this is my husband and partner, Dr. Jerome Bryce," Dr. Amelia says to me as I enter the room. I take a seat next to Dr. Jerome. Nurse Stevens leaves and I now have the attention of two doctors.

"How are you doing so far?" Dr. Jerome asks me.

I consider the question for a moment. "Um... a little," they wait for me to answer. "...overwhelmed."

"That is perfectly normal," Dr. Amelia says to me. I smile at her, it's a quick smile because I don't feel very normal. "You already did the hard part. Admitting you have a problem and coming here on your own. Not many do that."

I never thought about that. She's right. My first stint, I was sent to get out of prison. Most of the other addicts I met, were there because they were sent there. Some do go because they know they have a problem and they are ready to quit. Then there are those who die, never finding freedom.

"We work together to come up with the best treatment plan for you. Dr. Amelia will be leading your care. I work with all of our male patients," Dr. Jerome explains to me. They discuss with me the treatment plan and my daily schedule. When they are done, Nurse Stevens comes back and gets me to take me back to my room.

When I arrive at my room, my roommate is there. She lays out on her bed staring at me. "Kline, this is Alexander. Behave yourself and show her the ropes," Stevens says introducing us. She leaves the room and the two of us are left in the room staring at each other. I break eye contact and walk over to my bed silently while she watches me. Her staring is starting to drive me crazy.

"Staring is considered rude," I tell her. She doesn't respond. "Don't speak, then." I pull out one of my textbooks and the iPod that my dad got me. I had left it in the box and when I opened it, there is a note from him.

Thought you might need inspiration from some of the greats.

Love your old man

I smile at the note. I look through the iPod and it looks like a blast through the past. Nina Simone, Etta James, Tina Turner, Otis Redding, and my heart just leaps. Even Louis Armstrong. Their greatest hits on my iPod. She's still watching me, and I try to pretend she's not. I look through my textbook, while I listen to the music that is on there.

"Are you a bottle redhead or does that sprout out of your head naturally?" She finally speaks. I turn to her. Her question sounding so strange.

"It's my hair..." I answer her. Her head is a rainbow of colors and she's got quite a few tattoos and piercings. She's a little thing. I want to give her a sandwich.

"No way. Prove it," she says to me.

"How?" I ask her.

"Drop your pants." I go wide eye. Great, I am in a room with a crazy person.

"What? Or you can see that my arm hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes are red," I answer her.

"You could've died that, too," she says to me. I shake my head at her.

"I can assure you I'm not that hard-pressed to fake being a redhead."

"Whatever." I lift my textbook back up. I want us to go back to the awkward staring because I fear what will come out of her mouth next. I hear her get off the bed and get up to join me on my bed. She plops herself down on my bed. She has no personal boundaries.

"What's your poison?" She asks me.

"What?" I ask her. She smirks at me.

"What are you in here for?" She asked me. Duh, I should've known that.

"Opioids and alcohol. Although I will take anything," I tell her. "You?"

"Meth."

"That's one I never did touch, but I definitely would've if it was offered," I tell her. We sit there for a minute. I can tell she's formulating another question to ask me. I stop the iPod and pull out the earbuds to give her my full attention. "You came here on your own?"

She shook her head no. "Judge said prison or rehab, I chose the lesser," she responds to me. Oh, do I understand the choice of the two. The difference between feeling like you are part of humanity and not, depends on which place you go. So many people don't get the option. It's just prison. "Been struggling with this since I was ten. My home was a Meth lab, growing up. I was put in foster care when I was in middle school. This is probably my third stint in rehab. I have a feeling I f**k up again, I'll be locked up."

"Your parents were on drugs, too?" I ask her.

"Oh, yeah. Dad died when one of his labs exploded the other year. He would use while cooking. Disaster waiting to happen. My mom is on the streets somewhere. Luckily, I am an only child, so no one else has to go through this bullshit." s**t and I thought I felt isolated, she literally has no one. "You made me spill my guts, your turn."

I tell her about everything. I don't need to hide from her. What sense would that make when she's probably seen a whole lot worse than I've done? I guess that is why they have those AA and DA meetings. We must support each other.

"Little rich girl."

"Yeah, yeah, what do I know about living hard?"

"Definitely not what I was thinking. Mo' money, mo' problems," she responds. "Addiction is a disease; your bank account won't save you. It just affords you better treatment." She's not as crazy as I thought she was initially was. Okay, she's been dropped to eccentric. She smiles at me. "My name is Jennifer, what's yours?"

"Siren."

"Oh, like mermaids?" She asks me. I laugh.

"Greek mythology shows sirens as singing bird-women. Not mermaids."

"Not day, they don't, Ariel," she decides to call me. "After midnight, I wanna show you something."