Suicide Adjacent

    Ashley was holding her knees with a blanket draped over her upper body slightly clouding her face as she always did. She had a look of tiredness in her eyes. She couldn't tell if she had emotional paralysis or was getting 'Billy Dune' good at repressing what had just happened. Her mother sat watching her while sipping tea like a person watches a train before they step on the tracks. Wren, Ashley's mom, usually could stroke her daughter's hair, while telling her it's okay. Wren not that she always believed herself when she said this; it was all she could think to do. Regardless of the state of their relationship, the simple act of having her mother care for her brought Ashley instantaneous ease. Wren knew, running her hands through Ashley's hair was going to solve much or even give her daughter some relief.

Ashley stood up slowly; it looked as if she was drowsy and undetermined. Lightly sighing as she walked to the coach, She wanted to sleep in her room, Ashley knew she would have to sleep in an open space on the couch or in her mom's bed, and the former would do. Ashley fell onto the couch like a bed of roses falls on a gravestone plot falling, then sinking when it hits the surface. As Ashley lay, Wren draped another blanket over her as Ashley saw her mother's eyes, Ashley was sure she never wanted to be a mother or wife herself. Wren walked to her room, sat on her bed, and cried almost silently while wiping the tears from her face as she exhaled the, anguish could be felt like smoke rising. She then stood at the door, watching Ashley, her presence like a spirit in the room.

Ashley emulated sleeping to give her mom some reprieve or at least a chance at a less excruciating sleep. She remembered the night her stepfather almost left. Wren immediately and deliberately placing blame on Ashley for her inability to make her stepfather want to stay due to their tumultuous relationship. As Ashley walked into her house that day, the atmosphere had changed, she felt as if she was a prisoner walking into a prison unaware of her crime. Ashley was saddened by how familiar the feeling had felt. As a child, Ashley remembered her mother and father relentlessly screaming at one another, They're home often frequented officers doing wellness checks or answering domestic dispute calls. Ashley would do almost anything to avoid the conflict apart of their daily lives, particularly what happened at night when her mom was sleeping.

When Ashley's father had died in a drunk driving accident, she felt relief from the angst that had paralyzed most of her young life. Wren and Ashley's relationship had become more like the mother-daughter relationship Ashley had always desired. Wren could now go to school, leave her house, remain connected to her outer family, and become the mother and person she had always wanted to be. Initially, Wren felt defeat that this may have been the only love she was ever worthy of having. During her second semester of college, she met Ricky. He was sweet, funny, and sensitive. He became the first relationship for Wren to discover love with uncertainty but without trepidation for her safety. When Ashley met Ricky, there was an immediate connection, both wanted to be loved fiercely and love fiercely. From the first time he had heard Ashley's giggle, he knew he would always want her to be his daughter.

Wren grew wearier watching Ashley pretend to sleep; she thought of the many times Ashley would procrastinate going to bed as a child. She would wail every night as if she was being abandoned to the wreckage, which she often felt like she was. As it got closer to nighttime, laying in a bed was daunting to Ashley, she would see streetlights and hear car noises, leaving a breeding ground for the cognitive dissonance to captivate her consciousness of what would come. She would count the lights that she could see through her blanket ever so slightly easing the conflict. Wren had exhausted all realizations of her bad parenting embellished or not. She slept as suddenly as she hit her mattress, unable to continue the pattern of self-abuse in her mind.

They both awoke, Ashley unsure if she had dreamed or not. Wren, highly aware of her surroundings as when she was sleeping. Ashley's little ambition she had was focused on making the coffee she stood over the coffee pot and watched as the coffee grounds fell to the floor she had no reaction. Usually, she would laugh and clean up, ever so slowly enjoying the mess she had made in her life of ditsy insignificance. Ashley was habitually self-destructive and could justify any of her actions deeming that life seldom gave a chance for broken people to act justifiably in the eyes of others. Ashley just sat in the coffee grounds and wept, gasping for air as her cheeks turned scarlet. She stood up, pacing back and forth as the coffee grounds fell from her jeans with each step she took. As Wren walked into the room, she attempted to cradle Ashley with no consent on Ashley's part to participate.

 Ashley couldn't help but imagine how Ricky would handle the situation if it had been someone else who ended their own life. He would probably make a joke that demonstrated little emotional maturity followed by a somehow depressingly soothing statement which would still Demonstrate more emotional vulnerability then Wren was ever capable of displaying. In school, Ashley would read levels behind the other students, she struggled to pay attention and would lovingly be described as quirky by her teachers. As Ashley's issues became more apparent, she began seeing a counselor, a preposterous thought to her mother, but the school deemed it necessary. Ricky was different; he would let Ashley sit with her uncomfortable emotions and entertain that her feelings of inadequacy were justified, all while making her laugh. When Ricky was driving Ashley from school one day, she sobbed unable to do the homework in front of her, he just said 'hey stupid, you're probably adopted since your so dumb,' and she responded 'well then maybe you are my real father' and they both grinned and had felt more content than they had felt anywhere else as crazy or cruel as the interaction may have seemed to anyone else.

As Ashley grew up, Ricky could no longer deny that they were both mentally ill addicts. Regardless that Ricky wasn't Ashley's biological father, he began to feel like the only thing that connected them was trauma, and he couldn't begin to know how to fix that or justify staying. They both went from periods of mania to severe depression, paranoia, and numbness combated with the fact they were incapable of trust he could no longer watch her become the person he hated the most. After Wren pleaded for Ashley to change her ways, he felt obligated to stay for Ashley, unsure if he was even capable of changing himself. Resentment festered towards Ricky, Ashley had felt like the catalyst in her life had betrayed her and after his sudden death she was mad and dismayed she couldn't join him.

Ashley hastily grabbed her bag, she shut the door, stepped outside, and wiped the coffee grounds off her legs, breathing in the purified air from the rain as the grey clouds brought clarity to her body. She lit her cigarette and headed for the gas station craving a Slurpee she would later mix cheap vodka into. She walked through town for hours feeling exhilarated, and a distorted sense of happiness as the vodka coaxed her throat and body like cough syrup. Wren calling her persistently. She felt determined to ignore the call, no matter how much the light started to fade. Wren drove furiously, tracking her daughter's moves until she found her. Ashley trying her best not to stumble, Wren, escorted her to the car. When Ashley was home, she lay in bed. Wren brushed her hand against Ashley's head while softly dabbing a cold cloth against her forehead. Ashley cried, curled next to her mother then fell asleep.