Page 61 of Salute, To Bravery

Ophelia

I drove home quickly, longing to text Violet and ask her what she thought of the group. I didn’t know why, but it felt important.

I finally parked my car in the parking garage and went up to my apartment.

My black cat, Midnight, was waiting at the door and nearly got out—again.

Thankfully, I stopped him before he could escape.

Midnight loved to explore. Whenever I took him on walks, he would sniff around and be adventurous.

The sad thing was, I could only keep him if Midnight stayed inside. Landlord’s rules.

I placed my purse on the kitchen counter and went to look for my phone when I felt a buzzing in my back pocket. I went to see who it was, and it was from Arlet, my best friend. I’ve known her since middle school.

Hey, just wanted to see how therapy went. Miss you tons 33

I replied.

Hey, it went well. Is right now a good time to call, I want to tell you about a girl I met

That’s when I heard a simple jazz start to go off. I looked down at my phone and saw Arlet calling me.

“Yes.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Tell me everything,” she yelled in my ear.

“So, there was this new person. Nothing new, you know, we always get new people, and they disappear after a few months. I thought nothing of it, but as soon as she walked through those doors, I gravitated towards her, like she was the sun and I was the planets. I had to be near her, and something was pulling us together. She could be a model. She’s so kind and intentional about her words—”

“Sounds like someone has a crush,” Arlet teased.

“I do not, I’m just”—I couldn’t think of the word—“intrigued.”

“Sure,” Arlet continued to tease. “Well, I have work tomorrow, and I need to get to sleep.”

“Grandma,” I teased her back.

“This grandma needs her beauty sleep,” she chortled. “Plus, I have a long day tomorrow.”

“What are you working on tomorrow, or are you even allowed to say?”

“A new movie,” she said. “That’s all I can say.”

“Okay. Well, goodnight, Grandma.”

I heard her laugh.

“Goodnight,” she yawned and hung up.

My stomach growled. That was when I realized how hungry I was.

I hadn’t eaten since two, and it was around nine.

I walked into my kitchen, opened the fridge, and found some chili that my step-mom had made.

I opened the container and inspected it for mold.

There was none, so I placed it into a bowl and popped it into the microwave.

A few moments later, the beeping announced that it was done, and I ate the deliciously spicy chili.

After I finished my chili, my phone played my mom’s favorite song. My mom was calling.

“Hey,” I answered as I shut off the TV.

“Hey, honey. How was your day?”

“It was good. I went to group therapy and met a new girl.”

“Oh,” she said curiously. “Does she like girls?”

“Mom!”

“What? You’re so lonely up there with your cat, especially since Arlet decided to move to New York. The only people near you are your dad and your stepmom. Your dad is great and everything, but it’s still lonely.”

“I have the animal shelter,” I retorted.

“Work doesn’t count. It pays the bills and gives you fulfillment. Just because you work doesn’t mean you aren’t lonely. It’s just you and your therapy group as your support system; that’s a little sad, honey,” she remarked.

“Wow, way to let me down easy,” I said as I walked to the kitchen with my dishes and placed them in the dishwasher.

“Honey, you need to hear it. You need to put yourself back out there. Your life has been so hard, and I feel responsible for that. I’m sorry, but you need to find someone who gets you. You deserve that.”

“Thanks, Mom. And could you please stop bringing that up? It’s been years. You can stop feeling guilty now. You deserve that.”

“I will never stop feeling guilty, I know my emotions were valid and all of that, but you should have never found me like that. You should have never seen me at my worst. I wish someone else could have,” she said, her voice somber. “How have the nightmares been?”

“I haven’t had any in the past few weeks. It’s nice, but I know the next wave of nightmares is going to be bad.” I placed the call on speakerphone and fidgeted with my fingers. “I can just feel it, you know. I understand the group is there, but no one has had a parent who has, well, you know.”

“Tried to commit?”

“Yes.” Anxiety started to seep into my skin as I heard the words.

“I’m sorry.” Her words came out barely a whisper.

“Don’t be. You thought you had no choice,” I remembered finding her on the floor seizing. I shook my head, trying to shake the memories away.

“I will never stop being sorry.” Silence ensued, heavy and constricting like a boa constrictor encircling my neck. I didn’t know if it was the anxiety or the emptiness in between objects.

“I have to go now, my ice cream is going to melt,” I lied. I needed an out, and that was the only one I could find.

“Okay, honey, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Then, the call ended.

A shaky breath left my mouth. Tears swelled in my eyes, making my vision blurry.

Why did she have to bring it up every time we talked? Thoughts and questions started to race through my mind. One hit me like a tsunami, Why wasn’t I enough to keep her alive?

The tears fell, causing me to grip the counter for dear life. I needed a distraction. I didn’t move; I allowed the panic attack to overtake me.

The shallow breaths turned quick, and my palms were sweaty as I drowned in the air. I went to my phone, moved into my breathing app, and started to follow the instructions and illustrations. Soon enough, the tears stopped. My breathing became controlled.

My cat came up to me, purring.

I picked Midnight up, then grabbed my phone and went to my living room. I set my phone on the coffee table, grabbed the remote, sat in my favorite chair, and continued to watch my favorite show to help calm me down.