Page 4 of With a Broken Wing
She narrowed her hazel eyes. “You don’t know what I can survive. I’m confident I’ve survived worse thanyou.”
She placed her hands against my chest and shoved, ducking under my arm and slipping away from me. I considered reaching out and closing my hand around her narrow wrist, pulling her back, and proving her wrong, but something in the way she looked away stopped me.
I finished packing the books and miscellaneous items in the office, stacking the last box in the hallway before making my way down the stairs. Again, my brother was nowhere to be seen, and it was quiet enough to hear a sniffle coming from the kitchen. I turned the corner, and Andy was bent over the counter with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook, and she sniffled again, wiping her face.
“Andy.” At the sound of my voice, she leapt back and straightened her spine, running her hands across her face before whipping around.
She placed her hand on her chest and held it there. “Youhaveto stop doing that!”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Tell Jules I’ll stop by in the morning to hug her goodbye. I need to get going. Glad ya got to see me!”
The melancholy look in her eyes was only hidden slightly behind the smile she plastered on her face, and without another word, she snatched her purse from the counter and took off towards the front door. It slammed shut behind her, louder in the empty house, and I swear I could feel it in my core.I’ve survived worse than you.
“What is your story, sunshine?”
The throbbingin my head was consistent, but I turned up my car radio in hopes of drowning out my anxiety. I’d spent all of yesterday wrapped up under a blanket on the couch, trying to convince myself my heart wasn’t beating too fast and I wasn’t completely losing my grip on reality. It was one of those days where nothing calmed me down, no matter how many of my centering tactics I tried. I counted down from five and identified things with each of my senses. I tried breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth in even, measured breaths. It still felt like the world was spinning out of control, no matter how many Xanax I took or how many glasses of wine I chased it with.
“One Day” by Matisyahu played through my speakers, and I sang along loudly enough that my voice felt strained. Singing and dancing in my car always made me feel better, but today it didn’t make the pounding pressure in my chest subside. I was still repeating Rachel’s short, frustrated text from yesterday in my head. If there was one thing my boss lacked, it was empathy.Another mental health day?She was lucky she didn’t understand.
There was a point where I had my panic attacks under control, but I’d stopped seeing my therapist last fall and since then I’d been slowly losing my grip. The days when I couldn’t climb out of bed, not even long enough to shower or feed myself, were becoming more common. Nights when I sat up against my headboard and stared into space to avoid the thoughts in my head turning to nightmares were happening more often. Most days, I could put on some makeup, brush my hair, and pretend like everything was okay, but some days, I found myself wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. Yesterday was one of those days.
I pulled into my space at the office, and by the time I put my Volkswagen Jetta in park, my hands were shaking and my throat was dry. Taking two deep breaths, I unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed out of the car. The travel agency I worked for was in a strip mall just outside of downtown, so there was an actual parking lot behind it. It sat between a favorite local donut shop and a title loan company. Nothing said booking a fancy vacation like the smell of fried dough and people borrowing money they likely weren’t going to pay back.
I sighed when I pulled the door open and went inside. Rachel wasn’t in her office when I walked by the cracked door towards my desk, but the new girl was sitting in the desk behind mine. She’d introduced herself to me on Friday, but I couldn’t remember her name. I’d meet her again when she shadowed me later.
My nails clicked against the keyboard as I logged into my computer, but before the start-up jingle came through the speaker, Rachel was standing behind me. “Good morning,” she said, her normally chipper voice was soft, almost apologetic. “Mind if we chat?”
I stood up and followed her to her small office, but I was sure I’d left my stomach where it sank to the floor behind me. The click of the latch made my heart race, and I took a deep breath to convince myself I wasn’t about to lose my job.
“I’m really sorry, Andy. I have to let you go.”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The tears that welled up in my eyes instantly slid down my cheeks, and I choked on my words. “Wait, really? But… why?”
“It’s themental healthdays.” The air quotes she used around the words made my throat tighten. “If we all called in just because we didn’t want to come to work, then nobody would ever show up. You’re a good travel agent, but you’re only good if you’re here, and lately you’re just… not.”
My mouth fell open and hung there, and I couldn’t move. Panic settled over me.I’m fired.“I’m so sorry. Please give me another chance. It’s not like that. I promise I’ll be better.” My voice broke on the last word.
“Sorry, Andy. No.”
She picked up the papers already in a nice stack on her desk and clapped them against the faux wood surface. I took a deep breath and stood up, willing the room not to spin any faster so I could gather my things from my desk before I collapsed.
The new girl didn’t wave goodbye when I left, and nobody else was in yet. I stopped in front of Rachel’s office and waved, but when she didn’t look up as I pushed the door open, I just kept moving. When the heavy metal door closed behind me, it felt like such a permanent ending to a chapter of my life.
I slammed the door of my car shut before I was overtaken by body-shaking sobs. “My parents are going tokillme!” I beat my fists against the steering wheel, causing the horn to go off, and when it got stuck and drew attention from people walking their dogs on the sidewalks, I wanted to disappear.
The tears rolling out of my eyes soaked my shirt as I drove home. My heart sank when I pulled up at my apartment and walked up the stairs, walking past the door that had once belonged to Jules. It had been empty since she’d gotten engaged, but she’d still had the lease until she got married. For the first time in the last month, I really could have used the comfort of her couch and the stock of wine she used to have readily available.
Before the door to my apartment was closed and locked, my sights were set on the cabinet above my stove. I was out of wine, but there was a bottle of tequila up there that had been waiting for a rainy day. The pop of the cork in the bottle was mildly comforting, and I skipped the glass, bringing the bottle to my lips and taking a long pull. I enjoyed the burn of the liquor in the back of my throat, and I dropped onto one of the stools at my counter.
I swallowed my second gulp and pulled out my phone. I would feel better if I talked to someone. My therapist always told me I couldn’t keep everything in, and while I’d gotten a little better about forcing myself to let it out, I still felt drawn to bottling it all up and pretending everything was fine.
“Hey, Andy!” Jules answered the phone on the third ring, slightly out of breath. I imagined she was enjoying her morning with her husband, and I tried not to be jealous.
