Page 1 of This I Know
PART ONE
The Fall
Avery
It was less than a second, but it changed everything.
Whatit changed isn’t as important ashow.
Thehowis the forgotten memories – the regretful, invasive non-thoughts I try to sigh away from the depths of my hospital bed, late at night when all my visitors have gone home, taken their bundles of flowers back with them because I already have too many to squeeze one more dozen in, and shuffling out with smiles of relief that they think are hidden.
You should have screamed.
I don’t remember much.
But still, Avery, you should have screamed. Come on.
I’ve tried to remember more. I tried that night, and I’m still trying to this day. So give me a break, Self.
Fuck you. I still say you should have screamed.
I wake without breath.
I want to open my eyes. I try, but my lids won’t budge. They’re heavier than usual. Where am I? I was just asleep, wasn’t I? – I must be in my bed. But my bed has never before felt so hard, so uncomfortable. And never before in my room has there been such a fast breeze, even with the window open in an attempt to cool me down in the middle of the night, or has there been such bright sunlight flowing through.
Slowly, sensation returns to my body. It begins with the stinging cold of pavement against my cheek, and then I feel bits of gravel and dirt sticking to my skin. The sun must be hitting me because my skin is warm.
I gradually return.
That’s not warmth. That’s burning. That’spain.
Fuck, that hurts.
I adjust my sleeping position, but it doesn’t work – the pain only grows, and I can’t get away. It follows me.
I open my eyes.What the hell is this?
I’m on the ground. I’m in a secluded cove of the sidewalk, sheltered from the street by overgrown bushes and a few trees, their limbs lightly blowing in the breeze.
I place my palm against the pavement and push myself up, hoping to prop myself to get a look around. Immediately, my body gives out.
Fail.
I look down. I’m a mess. My dress is torn, and even filthier than it was when Cole left me. One sleeve hangs off my shoulder, the black, weightless tulle blowing here and there like the trees in the wind, and I can somehow see streaks of red through the black fabric. I feel around my body with what little energy I can muster, using my least painful hand to scope myself out. Here and there among my dress are patches of wetness, but I have no idea what they’re from.
Something happened to me. Something physical. Maybe I had a stroke, or maybe I fainted from exhaustion, or maybe all the stress from Cole just became too much for my body to take and I collapsed, just like that. Can that happen at eighteen years old? I guess itcould.But I don’t remember feeling weak …
My mind drifts away.
When I open my eyes again, my phone is lying next to me on the pavement. Its glass screen is shattered even more than I am, the cracks forming a constellation of creative horror. I pick it up and press the Home button. It lights up through the shards and missing pieces. It actually works. I squint; I barely make out the wordMARArunning across what remains of the screen.
Mara.
That’s right. How long has she been trying to reach me?
I can’t think for too long because my forehead throbs. I instinctively touch it, wincing, then pull my hand away. My fingertips are red. My forehead, and I presume the rest of my face, judging by how it feels, is covered in blood. I stare at the red, and then, with no effort on my part, my eyes close once again and I continue to forget.
“Avery.”
