There is nothing special about Ava, if she were in a crowd you would probably look right past her. On the outside her demeanor is quiet, subdued, but on the inside she is raging, screaming, fighting. Her outward appearance is put together, well groomed, almost tranquil; on the inside there is a trail of destruction left from her own inner turmoil. Ava fights daily to keep from falling apart; her fight is often in vain. Her life is far from perfect, but far better than what she was raised in and a far cry from the situations she has witnessed through her career. One child, a nice home, two cars and a decent career are more than what some have but somehow her guilt prevents her from truly enjoying it.
Trudging to her car from a long day of dealing with demands and criticism; images of child abuse and neglect swirling around her brain, trying to shake the recent case she had been working on, Ava is in no hurry to go home to an empty house. She’ll be alone with her thoughts, where she’ll be alone with herself. At least at work she had other things to preoccupy her mind, despite being completely wretched and disturbing, they are welcome distractions.
There are no waiting lights on in her home, there are no voices inside; just painful reminders of the life she used to have, the life she desperately wants back. Ava goes through her nightly routine without flaw, alone andbroken. She fears the night; she fears what her heavy eyes signify. One last look around the house, a walk down the hallway lined with pictures of not so distant memories, a glance into his room, left just the way it was when he was last home; it all triggers an ache in her chest. Ava fears the possibility that all she has now is all that she’ll ever get or all she’ll ever deserve.
Fighting the sleep from her eyes, Ava does what she can to prepare herself for the torment that is to come. Finally, when she loses her battle, it is then when she is truly alone, fighting for her life; fighting for her sanity.
Another day of swimming against the flow of the tide; another day of seeing families torn apart by their addictions and their neglectfulness. Ava wonders if they ever really know the blessing they have in their hands. She wonders if they’ll ever really understand the milestones they’ll miss, the accomplishments they’ll never see, moreover, she wonders if they care. The thought of missing them makes her feel like she’s drowning, something she fears she’ll have to deal with forever. It’s Friday, a day most look forward to, a day she dreads; it means a whole weekend alone with her thoughts, alone with her guilt and self loathing. She hasn’t forgotten the date, this weekend will be particularly hard; Ava schedules the following Monday off.
Ava rushes to her car with a list of errands to do before she heads to her empty home; what kind of cake does he want, what kind of gift should I get him, what do six year olds like? Today she battles the cars on the road and people in the stores to accomplish her goals and arrive home to eagerly await his arrival.
Her feelings of accomplishment are drained when she walks through her door and is met again with silence. Lighting six candles on the cake, Ava sits herself down in front of it, with her head in her hands, she waits. Hours pass, with each deafening tick-tock the weight of despair grows heavy on her shoulders. A tear in her brain allows the guilt to seep in; Ava buries her face in her hands and begins to sob. She wonders where he has gone, if he is alright and if he misses her as much as she misses him.
Ava blows out the candles, leaves the cake untouched, turns out the kitchen light and takes the wrapped birthday gift to a closet. Upon opening the doors, a wave of emotion hits her; once again she is drowning. This will be the third addition to her tortured collection; a collection she only see’s once a year but thinks about every day. One token for every year she hasn’t seen him. Reluctantly Ava closes the door; images churn around and around behind her eyelids, she takes another Valium.
Ava drifts off to sleep to thoughts of “How could I have been so careless and selfish? I must truly be a terrible person to have to endure this pain and suffering. I don’t deserve to be happy.” A very lucid dream comes rushing to her; the same dream she has every night:
Ava is running now, running from a dark shadow, a shadow that she instinctively knows wants to kill her; no matter how fast or where she goes, it is right behind her, stalking her, waiting for a wrong move. She knows this shadow, she has spent the better part of her life trying to make him happy. Finally, she reaches sanctuary, a silver car; a silver coffin.
Ava jolts upright in bed, feeling robbed of breath and life; drenched in sweat and tears. The clock glares at her; three a.m. Stumbling out of bed, she makes her way to his lifeless room, his essence is barely there anymore, his smell and laughter no longer resides here. Ava gently traces her fingers over his favorite teddy bear; in the darkness of his room she finds her way to the small bed. Ava can see him sleeping there, his skin flawless like porcelain; his eyelids sweetly closed dreaming of unknown adventures, his hands curled around his teddy bear with the softest expression on his face, he looks like an angel. Ava reaches out to the image that lingers in her brain like smoke in the air. As quickly as tears fill her eyes, the picture dissolves and she is left standing there staggered.
Clutching the teddy bear, Ava curled up on his bed; she hadn’t touched anything in his room since it happened, Ava didn’t want to risk losing his memory. His room and her hallway closet where his past birthday gifts hide, were all shrines, an attempt at kissing the life back into something she hope hasn’t already died. Burying her face deep into his pillow, Ava takes a deep breath; “he’s gone”. Gathering the pillow and the teddy bear in her arms, there will be no stopping the tears now; they come rushing to Ava as if the flood gates were opened. In agony, Ava lays in her child’s bed feeling that she has nothing left to live for, nothing but him.
Fighting sleep all weekend long, Ava arrives at work on Monday despite the fact that she had scheduled the day off. Dressed in her usual business attire, hair in its usual pony tail, nothing seemed out of place except the dark circles under Ava’s eyes and the trail through her makeup made by her tears. Co workers watched as Ava passed through the office on her way to her desk. Everyone knew, they all had their own words to say, but just couldn’t bring themselves to speak them. Ava was once approachable, pleasant and helpful, now it is clear to everyone around her that she is empty, cold and hardened. She buries herself in her work helping one family at a time, perhaps maybe this case, or the case after will make a difference. Ava desperately searches for some justifiable reason why neglectful parents should have their children, while she goes without her son. There isn’t a moment that goes by that she doesn’t think about her son; every child, every name printed on the Child Protection reports is Ava’s son.
Monday seemed to drone on much like every other day, Ava’s head in her files, her mind a million miles away. Five o’clock and Ava is on the street along with the sirens and car engines fighting the snow. Making her way to her car, bustling across the street with the crowd; Ava looks across the way and stops dead in her tracks. “It’s him”. Her breath escapes her, the knot in her stomach grows, and finally she finds the words: “JACOB! JACOB!” The boy makes no notice, but in Ava’s mind, that is her son; sprinting across lanes of speeding cars, dodging them like oncoming bullets, Ava makes her way to the young child; spinning him around and clutching him to her chest. “Jacob, where have you been? I have found you! I have missed you so much!” It was only when the child pulled away that Ava noticed the boys face, his face has changed, his eyes are now brown, not the peaceful green they once were, his freckles have gone and he no longer had Ava’s nose. “Ava?” a familiar voice called from behind the scene. Falling backward, landing on her backside, Ava glanced up to see a bewildered mother with both hands wrapped around her son. “I’m sorry miss, she is just a little confused.” The familiar voice trying to reassure the concerned mother as she backs away from the scene, unsure.
Ava, lingering on the ground, with her knees pulled up to her chest, needing to feel relief; like she hasn’t lost the most important thing in her existence. A gentle hand touches her on the shoulder, the warmth jerks Ava back to the scene she has caused; worried eyes survey the spectacle, strangers and co-workers alike whisper to each other. “Ava, let’s get you up.” The gentle hand moves from Ava’s shoulder to her arm; with a firm tug, Ava was upright, still somewhat dazed.
Ava could hardly recall the ride home, and superficial conversation that went along with it or even how she made it to her front door. A zombie as her face, Ava is eaten alive by what she holds inside, the mistake she lives with she can’t easily hide anymore. It is clear as the empty house that this damage will never disappear and as long as Ava clings to hope, her life will continually deteriorate. Ava lingers at the door for two hours, and then steps inside.
The rushing bath water causes a memory to seep into Ava’s brain like sap from a tree:
A quick glance into the back seat, Jacob is still there, the man, his blood rushing through her son’s veins, is just outside the door, angry, pounding on the glass, kicking the car door. In a hurry, Ava throws the silver car in gear, Jacob screaming in the back now, but it is just background noise to Ava; her focus is on the man in the rearview, following after his escapee’s in a beat up old pickup truck.
Floating weightless in a pool of warm water, Ava can’t help but wonder if this is how he felt, how he feels now. Weightless, abandoned, wondering if there is anyone out there looking for him, wondering if he’ll ever be found. Ava closes her eyes, and with one sigh, she feels the dream in her expire, she is the only one to blame. Wiping the moisture off the mirror, Ava can’t face herself; she’s so ashamed of the thing that stares back at her. “I wish I had died, instead of lived; too dead to cry; to dead to care.” Ava whispers to the being in the mirror.
Laying in bed that evening, Ava battles sleep by staring at his picture, one of her most favorites taken just months before it happened. “Every day I wonder what you could have been, Jacob, I see you, but I can barely feel you….” Ava’s nightmare sets in:
Rocks spewing from the back of the car as Ava rips out of the driveway; eyes fixed on the rearview. She has no idea where she’ll go, but she knows he will never leave her alone, he’ll hunt her down, he’ll force her back into this grasp, undoubtedly kill her. Ava is not just fleeing for her own life but the life of her son and all that the future holds for him. Ava pushes the gas pedal to the floor, the roar of the engine and the grip of the tires inspire hope in her heart. Just maybe…
Ava opens her eyes and lays awake, waiting for her alarm to signal the start of a new day. It seems like today is just like every day, gray, no color to be seen. Hours pass, Ava remains stationary. The sun has move from the left side of her bedroom window, to the right. The continuous ringing of her phone only adds to Ava’s anxiety; she wonders if anyone is truly concerned or are they just in need. Ava rolls out of bed.
Making her way to her hallway closet, opening the doors, there sit the three twisted birthday gifts within the shrine Ava has made for her son. One by one, she tosses them aside; Ava drags box after box out of the closet until she finds the one she is looking for. A large banker’s box, too heavy to lift, Ava drags it to the middle of her livingroom. Removing the cover, Ava is hit instantly with an overwhelming feeling of anger; she pushes the box over, spilling all of the pictures. Examining each photo as if it were the last time she’ll ever see them, Ava makes a single pile. With her pictures sorted, Ava returns to her shine to find another box marked School Projects; Ava chooses her favorites and adds them to the collection of pictures. A shiver moves up Ava’s spine as she enters his room; collecting a bible, a white baptism cloth, his favorite teddy bear, the first set of clothing he ever wore and the comforter from his bed; adding all but the comforter to the pile.
Ava finds a partially full bottle of tequila she bought just after the funeral. She couldn’t stand the taste, but hated the pain more. On her way to the bathroom tequila in hand, Ava scoops up the pile she has collected, the comforter and a set of matches. Ensuring all but one tattered picture is carefully tucked away; Ava enters her bathroom with a quake. Covered in his comforter, a full valium bottle in one hand, tequila, matches and a razor sit next to Ava on the floor. Ava begins to pray out loud:
“Lord, I wish there were more to say for me, I understand that every life must end when you see fit, I know some day we must go. Why couldn’t he have stayed? Why couldn’t you have taken me instead? I don’t want to hurt; there is so much in this world to make me bleed. Please forgive me.”
With a swift and steady move, Ava pours the contents of the pill bottle into her mouth, followed by the bottle of tequila. Twenty minutes, Ava opens her bathroom closet and finds a bag of toilet paper and a pile of towels, tossing a match into the toilet paper she pulls down the towels and closes the door. Ava takes the tattered picture and presses it to her chest. “I’ll hold you until I die, I’ll find you on the other side.” Smoke now bellowing out of the closet, Ava’s vision starts to blur, she reaches for the razor. Ava can hardly feel the steely blade pierce her skin, nor can she feel the warmth of her crimson red blood spilling from her arms. Stroke after stroke, one arm to the next, Ava is steadily losing her battle.
Dropping the razor and leaning back against the wall, Ava’s mind drifts to the pile tucked securely away in the fireproof safe knowing that his memory shall live on through its contents. Ava drifts off, seeing the black sky with brilliant white stars, like holes punched in the floor of heaven; heaven a place where she’ll hold him close once more.
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