The Things He Shattered

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1)

Submitted: April 12, 2013

Reads: 1694

Comments: 20

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 12, 2013





A few days went by, and Trevor called me. He told me right away that he had become miserable without me. He wanted me back. I didn’t feel like toying with him and told him that nothing would make me happier. So we got back together. I was ecstatic. He asked me how school was and I told him I was no longer attending. He told me that he dropped out. He needed one more credit to graduate and he would take care of it later, in night school or some shit like that. He was now getting more hours at McDonald’s and making more money. And now we could spend a lot more time together since school was no longer in our way. What followed were some of the happiest months of my life. That was 6 years ago.

Loupe called me and told me she had also dropped out of highschool. She had three months left until graduation. She was six weeks pregnant by then.
"Why did you decide to drop out!? You only had 3 months to go..." I was surprised.

"I’m pregnant Karina," her tone suggested that if I knew what was good for me, I would drop it. And so I did.
I basked in the summer with Trevor by my side. Life was wonderful. I knew good things would come to an end. Like they tend to. And before I was ready for it, it was time for University. A week before this I was informed that I had won a scholarship. It was for $3, 500. I was very happy, but compared to the amount the University would charge me for tuition, $3, 500 was peanuts. I of course had to sign up for a student loan. Because my parents were the opposite of wealthy and receiving a little bit of help from the government to pay for basic rent, I was eligible for something called OSAP. The nice thing about OSAP is that it is a government loan, and as opposed to a bank loan, this loan accumulates less interest. I found myself feeling slightly confused by the fact that education cost so much money, forcing many students to sink into debt. Owing thousands and thousands of dollars after graduation. People who want to pursue a higher education should be encouraged, not punished... right? Well I seemed to be the rare person who looked at it that way. And so my journey into the world of debt began. Yet, I was still optimistic. The University of Toronto had a very good reputation.

There were mandatory classes I did have to take to achieve a degree. One of the credits I had to take was a science one, and so I took astronomy because I had been fascinated with it since I was a child. The course however killed any interest I possessed in the subject. The first text book alone cost me $127. It wasn’t even a hard cover. OSAP would give me around $7,000 for tuition payments every year I was a student, so it would be enough money to cover everything, but it was money I would have to pay back with interest. I could absolutely drop the class if I wanted to, but thought against it because the University would not refund all of the $1000 it cost for me to take the course, or even a dollar for that matter, after a certain amount of weeks had elapsed.

I stumbled unto a problem with the student loan right away. They would give me $7,000 a year, but there was a catch. They would give me 60% of that up front. So $4,200, and then the remaining $2, 800 when mid-term rolled around. This was very well and good but the problem was the University demanded full payment up front for all of my courses, this semester and next semester. I wondered who came up with this idea, and when I asked about what I was supposed to do, I was told I could pay later, that was fine. Of course interest would begin to accumulate on my tuition bill until I payed it in full, but I could pay later. No problem. My student loan would have been even bigger if I did not receive the $3, 500 scholarship. I deposited it in the bank and then payed my entire tuition up front with no incident.
Because I would not be refunded the money if I dropped any course, I decided to suck it up and get them over and done with. I also had to take a sociology credit, so I decided to take a sociology class as well and get that crap out of the way my first year and not have to worry myself about it later. The sociology textbook was also over $100. Of course. Even though it was a soft cover. Apparently these text books were made out of gold or something like that. I soon began to feel extremely unhappy. My debt was growing. My marks were just high enough for me to pass and get the credits, and what I would have for a career when, and if I graduated this torturous experience, was a complete mystery to me. I began to feel miserable. Most days after school I would take the bus to go see Trevor. In the beginning our dates were very nice. His love and support seemed to be the only sunshine in my life. This of course would not last, as good things never tend to.

I was only two months into my University experience, when I noticed that Trevor began to grow more and more distant. He started to carry himself in a manner that would suggest that him spending time with me was done out of complete obligation. But we were still ‘engaged’ technically. I still wore the diamond ring on my finger. So I hoped it was just my imagination. I still loved him deeply, and when I brought up my concerns, he tried to calm me down by telling me his work was hectic and he didn’t mean to take it out on me. He was now one of the managers at McDonald’s and along with the pay raise there were more responsibilities, and as a direct result he was under a lot of stress. I should understand. And so I did.






Every year McDonald’s would throw a Christmas party for it’s employees. The previous year I had attended with Trevor as his date, so as time progressed closer to Christmas, I was getting ready deciding what I should wear. I asked Trevor if he had any opinions about the matter.

"Oh! Oh God! I’m so sorry Kar! I totally forgot to tell you. Since I’m a manager now at McDonald’s, I can’t bring a guest. I know it’s a very stupid rule, managers can’t bring dates, but that’s how they work..."

"Really? That really makes no sense, but I guess if you say so..." I said feeling very confused. "So I guess you’re not even gonna go this year?"

"Oh no. I gotta go. I’m a manager now, so I have to make an appearance, hey do you want, I can make you a drink. My dad just bought new rum, I think you might like it." If anything would shut me up it would be a nice stiff drink, and he knew this, and so the subject was dropped.

I wonder to this day if he realized that he was working with Anna, and she and I had remained close friends despite not being schoolmates anymore. And so when it was time for the McDonald’s Christmas, or ‘Holiday’ party, both Trevor and Anna attended. They were both managers at that time. Despite the fact that we still cared about each other a lot, and referred to each other as being ‘best friends,’ Anna and I would only talk on the phone or in person a couple of times a month. This worked well for us.

Shortly after the McDonald’s Holiday party Anna called me at home. She quickly got to the point.

"So, did you and Trevor brake up or something?"

"No! We went through some rough patches, but we’re still in love. We’re still engaged."

"Oh... I was just really confused cause of that Christmas party. You never came this year."

"Oh ... yeah, well that’s cause Trevor is a manager now and managers aren’t allowed to bring dates, so I didn’t go with him this year."

This was accompanied by silence as Anna tried to think of what and how she should compose her thoughts into words.

"That’s complete bullshit Kar. I’m a manager, I was allowed to bring a date. I asked my sister to join me this year... and Trevor had a date. That’s why I thought you guys broke up."

I think my heart stopped beating. At the back of my mind I was expecting this, I just wanted to be in denial. I was at a loss for words.

"Who was she?"

"Some really young highschool girl." Then she tried to calm my nerves and cheer me up. "She actually wasn’t pretty at all. Like... you’re a lot prettier. Trevor is a jerk."

Tears began to pour. My hands shook. I could no longer be in denial. With all the effort I could muster I grabbed my cell phone (a once upon a time gift from Trevor) and sent him a text message letting him know that I was coming by to see him. I was already out the door when he responded with, "Sure, is something wrong?"

It was a 30 minute walk to his residence from mine, and for the whole half an hour I was fuming.

He answered the door as I was knocking on it, and I was content that no one but him was home at the moment, because I think I may have unleashed quite a vocabulary. When I think back on it now, I’m drawing a blank about what exactly happened and what was said. I do remember that Trevor quickly calmed my nerves. He explained that there must be only one conclusion; Anna was horribly jealous of our love and relationship and would stop at nothing to break us apart. I realize now how stupid it all was, and how stupid the things he said were, but at that moment I had loved him so much, I was willing to hold on to anything that resembled some sort of truth from him, because I could in no way imagine losing him again. I wanted the denial back. We had broken up before and that was the absolute worst week of my life. I knew that I would gladly die then have to experience anything like that again. So I allowed him to spoon feed me his lies. I welcomed them.

By the end of the evening we had come to some conclusions;

1. He was faithful to me

2. He would marry me because he loved me more than anything and anyone

3. Anna had seen this and had grown very jealous. She decided to make up lies that would tear us apart, because she would probably never experience a love as strong as ours

I really didn’t want for our relationship to end, so I took it.

A few days later Trevor called me and informed me that at work he had told Anna off for spreading lies and trying to break us up. He took care of it like a man. As a result of this Anna and I were no longer friends. It pained me to lose the friendship, but I was just happy that Trevor and I were still together. So what did it matter?




Time progressed. Loupe gave birth. She had a boy. I failed a few school assignments and passed a few. Trevor and I had less time for each other but I took what I could get.

Spring was beginning to occur, and we were wrapping up at school. I would have 4 months to enjoy my summer, but then had decided I should take summer school, so that the course load in the new school year would not be so overwhelming for me.

I was in class when a highschool friend of mine, Brian, sent me a text message. He wanted to inform me that he had taken the same bus as Trevor, (they lived near each other). Trevor was on the bus with a girl. They were ‘flirting’ and got off at the bus stop near Trevor’s home.

Right after school, instead of going straight home, I took the bus to Trevor’s house. He had told me he would be working that evening, but Brian had seen him on the bus...

I got to his place and knocked on the front door. His mother answered the door.

"Oh, Karina! How nice to see you. I’m really sorry, Trevor’s not at home, he’s working at the moment. I’ll tell him you came by." She smiled and began to close the door.

"Oh yes, I know. It’s just that I was taking a walk, but I didn’t expect it to get this hot already... it’s still spring. You see... I didn’t bring any water with me. Stupid me. Is it okay if I just come in and get a glass of water real quick. And I’ll be out of your way."

Her face then went blank for a few seconds. She looked behind her into the hallway and then turned to me, with what I now realize was a forced smile.

"Well...of course. Come right in."

I stepped inside, and as I had always done, I took my shoes off and left them by the front door. I noticed right away that there was a pair of white woman’s running shoes that I had never seen before. I had been Trevor’s girlfriend for about 2 and a half years, and had been over to his home hundreds of times. I had become, by that time, very familiar with everyone’s footwear. These shoes I had never seen before, and knowing that Trevor’s mother was the only female who resided in the house, I quickly assumed the shoes belonged to her.

"Oh, you got a new pair of shoes huh?" I said looking over at her. "They’re nice."

"Ah yeah," she appeared to be making haste as she walked to the kitchen cupboard and pulled out a glass.

"Don’t worry, you can just stay there, I’ll get you the water. Leave your shoes on."

"I’m just gonna have a quick sit-down. I’m exhausted," I said as I headed to the dining room table. The table was situated between the kitchen and the living room. The living room could not be seen from the kitchen. I walked over to the table and took a seat. I took a quick glimpse of the living room and turned back to the kitchen where Trevor’s mother had poured me a glass of water and was quickly bringing it to me. But I realized then, that I had noticed something in the living room. I turned my head back and focused my vision. The wheels slowly turned. There, behind the TV stood Trevor, and right beside him, a girl. It looked like they made a relatively pathetic attempt to hide from me, but the livingroom was not allowing them to accomplish this very well.

"Oh...hi... I didn’t know you were home."

Trevor and the girl slowly made their way from behind the television set without uttering a word. I looked from his face to her’s .

"Hi. We haven’t met. I’m Karina, Trevor’s girlfriend."

Trevor looked like he was about to shit himself and in a panic barked,

"No you’re not!" Turning to the girl, "No she’s not!"

"What?! When the hell did this happen? If we were no longer a couple, could you not have notified me or something?"

"Can you just go please?" He said turning to the girl, "I’m so sorry. I really didn’t expect this today, but sometimes she does this. Don’t listen."

I got up and started to walk to the front door to leave. "Thank you for the water," I said to his mother who had now busied herself so much with doing dishes that she did not reply, or look up at me. I walked out of that house for the last time and my head spun. Anna had been right. She had been telling me the truth all along. And I had lost her friendship because I wanted to keep Trevor so badly. I no longer had anyone really. My boyfriend was gone, my best friend Anna hated me, and Loupe whom I loved, lived in another country. And so, I thought, this is what solitude feels like.

I walked straight home, and on the way home I came across a liquor store. I had already spent over $5,000 on University tuition and way over $500 on books, so what was another $15 for a liter and a half bottle of wine?

I came home, told my parents not to disturb me because I had an important essay to write, and went straight to bed. I opened the bottle of wine and drank straight from it. It was heavy so it required for me to use both hands to lift it, but it was good. Well, not the taste, so much as the feeling. Drinking a third of it I began to feel better. I began to grow numb. Sometime after I must have fallen asleep, because when awoke, it was morning. My head was pounding of course because I had a hangover. The bottle of wine was lying beside me. There was still a third left. So I turned on the TV in my room (a gift from Trevor a few months ago) and started to sip the wine. Slowly my blinding headache began to disappear. My mother called to me from her room letting me know that she was going to the mall and was wondering if she should get me anything. I quickly hid the bottle under the covers as she opened my door.

"Oh my! You look crappy."

"Yeah I know. That essay took a lot out of me. But I’m done, so I can relax for a bit. Just gonna go hand it in today."

"I can only imagine the work you put into it. Well if you’re gone by the time I get back, you have a good day at school."

I heard her close the front door behind her and I walked to the washroom to see myself in the mirror. It wasn’t pretty. My eye makeup was all smudged giving me an unattractive whore-ish look. I filled up the bathtub with water and took the remainder of my wine with me. I washed up and soaked in the bathtub, finished the wine and got out. I dried up and began to apply some makeup. When I finished I studied my face in the mirror. I now looked good. It very well could have been the wine talking, but I decided that I looked good and that was that.

I then went straight to the computer and busied myself writing Anna an apologetic e-mail, pouring my heart out, telling her I now new the truth, and realized she was only trying to spare me the pain, and I was an asshole for not believing her. I clicked send. The rest was up to God.

I then readied myself and walked out the front door. I didn’t head to school of course. My engagement had just ended. I was in no condition to go to class, so I took the bus to a mall away from home that had a wine store. I didn’t want to shop for liquor near where my mother was shopping because I was in no mood to have to explain myself. So I went to a mall further down south. I bought a bottle of wine and deposited it into my back pack. I would always bring my backpack to school with me to help carry around my University text books, so this would not raise any suspicion.

I came home and my mother was cooking dinner. "How was school?" she asked looking over the frying pan.

"Oh, it was good. Handed in that essay, so that’s out of the way."

"Well that’s good. Good girl. Grab some food. Oh! Before I forget, a girl called you. Now what was her name... ah yes! Anna."

"I gotta call her right away!" I ran to my room. I closed the door behind me and grabbed the phone. Anna picked up immediately. The apologies spewed right out of me. I was bearing my soul. I needed her forgiveness more than anything. I told her Trevor and I were over and now I see what an idiot I had been.

"Yeah I read the e-mail you sent me today. I was hurt before, but I love you Kar. It’s okay. I’m still gonna be your friend no matter what. Trevor was an asshole, but now you saw the truth. Your true friends won’t leave you." I cried with relief and we exchanged our ‘I love yous’ and ‘I’m sorrys’ so the friendship was mended. My heart was still shattered none the less, but at least I felt a little bit more optimistic.

I took off my engagement ring and put it away. Months later when I calmed down and decided to talk to Trevor, I asked him if he wanted the engagement ring back, simply because I was told by other people that when an engagement was over the ring should be returned. In my situation I really didn’t agree with this tradition, but I still asked Trevor if he wanted it back.

"No you keep it. It was a present and I don’t want it back."

"Oh I’m glad you said that. I sold it a week ago, but then was worried you’d want it back."

"Oh...well okay that’s fine."

I of course did not sell it. Almost a decade later I still have it and take it out of its case once in a while to admire it. It is after all my first engagement ring. And probably my last. So I hold on to it.

The school year wrapped up. I had passed all of my classes, thankfully. Somehow. I would earn a credit and a half in summer school.

I felt empty and always thought about Trevor. I wondered if he was happy. If he thought about me. If he loved that girl. These thoughts would constantly plague me. I felt that I became a shadow of who I was.




At the end of the summer of 2005 my mother had found a good vacation package to Cuba. The prices were rock bottom because school would be starting that week, and not a lot of people had wanted to go on a holiday. I knew it would interfere with my University schedule, but it was all inclusive and cheap, and we were relatively poor, so I quickly agreed to it.

I was 20 years old that summer. It had been a few months since Trevor and I went our separate ways, but my heart seemed to refuse to glue itself back together.

Loupe had called me a week before my vacation and told me that she was now coming back to Canada. She and her boyfriend broke up, so she decided to just take her son and move back in with her parents and brothers. We were now both going through breakups. Unlike me though, she seemed to be taking it a lot better. I on the other hand just drank myself silly whenever I felt overwhelmed with sadness.

It was almost September 2005 when we readied our suitcases and headed to the airport. It wasn’t a long plane trip. When we got Cuba, we left our baggage in the hotel room. It was late evening and we did not feel sleepy, so we all went to the bar to get a drink. I ordered a rum and coke and the three of us sat down at a table to unwind. I was taking a sip, and then all of a sudden there he was. Travis! The boy I loved since I was 13 but could never have. I hadn’t seen him since grade 8... and now here he was. I collected my jaw off the ground, gulped my drink down and decided to head over and talk to him. It only took one word to come out of his mouth for me to realize it was not Travis. This boy had what sounded like a very thick English accent. His name was Victor Alexander, he was younger, he was gorgeous, and he was not Travis. But I loved this ‘fake’ Travis still. It took me almost an entire day to get him to love me back. From then on he did not leave my side, and would tell me he loved me several times a day. The only time we would separate was when it was time to sleep. We would quickly find each other the next morning and pick up where we left off the night before.

Five days after I arrived, Victor would be leaving to go back to Wales. We didn’t live in the same country, or the same continent for that matter, but he promised me that he would finish school and find me. I only spent 5 days with him, but those 5 days erased any hurt and insecurities Trevor had left. Victor was probably the best rebound that God could have created on the face of this planet. And for an entire 5 days he was mine. Even though my parents did not get to see me all that often, Victor met them. They liked him right away. He had something about him. I met his father, and we also hit it off. "You picked a good one," his father informed me. This had become a relationship. We were both in love. Our parents liked us together and they liked each other. The one very significant and devastating problem was that we lived in different countries. He would promise to visit me in Canada or send me money so that I could visit him in Wales. I knew that the chances of these things actually happening were slim. The intention was there, the love was there... but my common sense told me to just enjoy the last moments I had left with him. I was sure I would never feel for anyone what I felt for Trevor. That I would never experience being in a happy relationship after Trevor stomped on ours. Being young and naive I was convinced that Trevor had been the only chance I had at having a romantic relationship because I thought that the love we experienced could only occur once in a lifetime. I was sure that I already had my ‘once in a lifetime’ love, and would now die alone, whatever that meant. But Cuba and Victor Alexander had changed that line of thought for me. Trevor was not ‘the one’ as I had convinced myself. There were others out there, and now Victor was proof of this.

As sad as it was to part our separate ways, I was happy. That one week in Cuba had changed me completely. And maybe one day I would find Victor, but I wasn’t holding my breath. I now had a new frame of mind and was incredibly grateful. I felt absolutely nothing for Trevor anymore. Just distaste.




By the time we arrived back in Canada, school had already began and I occupied myself with collecting books and filling out the OSAP student loan paperwork. That feeling I had in Cuba stayed with me for a couple of months. Even though I only had a few weeks of summer, considering I had taken summer school, that summer felt very eventful. Victor and I had developed a habit of writing e-mails and sending pictures to each other. I wasn’t gonna hold my breath waiting for him, but he managed to point out to me what I desperately needed to know: There really was life after love. There was more love after love.

So I went into the new University year with this new frame of mind. I no longer felt broken.

For a few weeks I lived in a different world. A world where happiness was a constant feeling. A young man in school took notice of me. He proudly introduced himself as Jeff Declines, informed me that he was going into politics, and asked me out. I agreed. Why not? I was ready for a new relationship. It took less than one week for me to realize that something was not right about him. I left him without giving it a second thought or feeling upset. I’m guessing he was upset, because when it came time for my birthday, he sent me a message over the internet where everyone could see it, and it read, "Happy Birthday you pathetic cunt." I smirked. This was from a man in his 20's with an ambition to go into politics. How promising. All he managed to do was make me feel embarrassed for him. Easy come easy go.

Loupe came back. After years of not seeing each other, she came back. She had changed of course. Her thoughts were now mostly devoted to her son. That was rightfully so. We could not just go back to where we left off and that was okay and understandable.

One day I got a little drunk and worked up as much courage as I possibly could. It had been about 8 years since I had seen or heard from Travis. So I went to the phone book, located his last name, and called. I think his mother picked up and called him to the phone when I asked for him. I was beyond nervous. The alcohol helped. He got on the phone and I explained to him who I was. I told him I was aware that it had been almost a decade since he’d seen me and probably had no idea who I was.

"Nah, I remember you. Leave me your e-mail or something, I’ll add you to MSN." I gave him my contact information and we said our goodbyes. I knew if I wasn’t a little trashed I would have never worked up the courage to call him like that. He added me to MSN that same day. We didn’t really ‘chat’ but it was more comforting for me to have him there and know that he was present.

In my first year of University, I had taken all of the classes that were mandatory to achieve graduation. I kicked and screamed, figuratively. I drank myself silly, literally. In the end I had gotten through it. Now in my second year I could just pick classes that I wanted to take, not classes that someone else wanted me to take. Things looked very promising.

Loupe was back. Now I had a best friend whom I could spend time with, considering Anna was not around too much since she was always busy working. A best friend with a child, but that was only a minor technicality. I was taking classes I liked, that I actually wanted to take. I was no longer waiting for Trevor to ‘come around.’ I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t love him anymore. The Cuban experience had deleted those feelings in me. I was so happy. But of course, good things never last. Those are the rules and that’s how it works.

In September 2005, Loupe’s brother Eduardo introduced me to one of his friends called Markus. Soon after, Markus became convinced that he had fallen in love with me, for some reason, (I had done everything I could to not impress him) and began to pursue me. I was not interested, so I wasn’t having it, and made myself clear. This did not deter Markus. He continued to pursue away.

At some point, I again began to feel overwhelmed with school. I was taking 4 English classes, as English was the only subject I was somewhat decent at. Still, it began to overwhelm me. Each class required for me to read an entire novel every week. I was taking 4 English classes and therefore was expected to read 4 novels a week. Week after week. For me, this was physically impossible. There were many nights I would stay up until 3am reading. Switching from one book to another. Thankfully I had discovered a website with book summaries, so I was able to get the gist of the novels. However, it was relatively useless to me when I had to write an essay about the book, as I was expected to quote the work. The thought of failing a class terrified me. I would lose all that money because the class was non-refundable, and would cause me to sink into even more debt. The depression began to sink in.




I went to see my family Doctor to discuss the overwhelming stress I was feeling. I remember the first time I came to see her about the problem, I was in tears. I was desperate. She looked upon me with what can only be interpreted as annoyance and disgust and said, "What do you have to be so upset about? You are young and beautiful." She prescribed an antidepressant and sleeping pills. Back then, because I was a student I was registered under my father’s work drug card, so the prescribed medication would not cost me anything.

I faithfully took the pills as the weeks went by. The only change I began to notice in myself was that I would become very irritated about small things, and falling asleep would probably never occur if she had not prescribed the sleeping pills. I returned to my family Doctor and explained the situation. She gave me a quick warning letting me know that sometimes antidepressants could cause suicidal thoughts. If anything, I was left a little confused. This did not make logical sense to me. Antidepressants caused suicidal thoughts? Aren’t they supposed to do the complete opposite? I thought that maybe she just wanted to cover everything so she would not be held responsible if the medication made me feel worse. She did not hesitate to write a new prescription for a new antidepressant. In total I went over this process 5 times, as no antidepressant brought a single benefit, only caused unpleasant side-effects. I, in no way felt better or more relaxed. I felt irritated, but I had accumulated quite a collection of these pills at that point.

Only a few months into the school year there was one week that was especially hard for me. A total of 3 essays were due that week, on books that I just couldn’t find time to finish. I would lose 10% every day I neglected to hand in my essay. I was fucked. I felt exhausted physically and mentally. I went and bought a large bottle of strong champagne and sat in my room and drank. My parents had left the apartment to go shopping, so I was left alone. So I drank and I cried. I didn’t want to feel anything. But I felt worthless and horrible. I was drunk and I wanted to sleep, so I took my sleeping pills. I had about 35 prescription, and 60 extra strength over the counter ones. I took them in hand fulls and swallowed them, chasing them down with champagne. They were all gone. Then on to the antidepressant collection. At that time I had over 200 antidepressant pills. I popped them out one by one and mechanically placed them into my mouth and gulped them down with champagne. Then a thought crosses my mind. I should really call Anna. I realized that this was a huge amount of medication and there could be a possibility that I would fall asleep soon, and maybe not wake up for a while. So I picked up the phone and dialed.

I do not remember much of the conversation now, but I remember Anna was growing hysterical. I remember I didn’t want to disturb Loupe, so I asked Anna to tell Loupe that I loved her, just in case she became upset with me if I was distant or unreachable. And that is all I remember. Anna told me that at some point I became silent and non-responsive on the phone so she called for help.

My parents later told me that when they returned home they noticed something was wrong immediately. My mother tells me that as soon as she came in, she noticed the balcony door was opened. She quickly rushed to close it because there was worry that mosquitos would fly in. Who left it open?

And there he was. There sitting on the livingroom couch was a police officer with the tv remote control in his hand. He was flipping through the channels and had settled on a baseball game. He looked extremely comfortable and calm. My father had come in by that time and asked the officer what he was doing. My father says that the officer’s reply, if anything was very condescending. He said,

"Your daughter has a 50/50 chance."

My parents began to speak Russian amongst themselves, as they always do, and the cop’s reaction was one that was not expected. He jumped up from the couch and barked,

"Speak English! If you don’t start speaking English we are going to have a huge problem!"

My mother tells me that what stood out the most was that throughout this interaction he never once took his hand off the gun he had hanging on his hips. There was no human sympathy on his part. Another officer come in from their bedroom to tell them they should now go to the hospital to see how I was doing. When my parents brought up the fact that they did not own a car, the officer offered to drive them. The other did not budge from the couch. He continued flipping through the channels. When asked, he told my parents he had no intention of leaving. Apparently it was his job to stay... and make himself at home. This is what taxpayers’ money is used for.

My mother told me she will remember his face for the rest of her life. There was something so despicable about him. 2 days after this all happened, she went out to buy some groceries. She walked out of the store, and saw him. He was walking out of the liquor store with a large case of beer.


When I regained consciousness, I awoke in the city’s Green Meadows Hospital. A Doctor came in to see me.

"You had ingested a lot of drugs. We had to pump your stomach."

I nodded.

"We’re going to keep you here for three days and monitor your recovery."

I shrugged.

"Police came to your home to search for a suicide note but were unable to find one."

"What would I leave a suicide note for, if I didn’t try to commit suicide? They didn’t find one because I didn’t write one."

He was a little taken aback by my answer.

"So this wasn’t a suicide attempt?"

"No... I just wanted to sleep because I was over stressed with schoolwork. I realize I over did it."

"You were clinically dead!"

"Oh. That’s interesting." I replied very nonchalantly. My main concern was my damn essay writing. The conversation was over. I knew I wouldn’t die. At the time I didn’t care if I did or didn’t. They did not keep me for three days as was planned. There was no need. I had recovered quickly and was discharged the following day. I asked for the most important thing I felt I needed. I asked the Doctor for a medical note, so that I would have something to show my professors to explain my essay writing neglect and have no consequences. He agreed quickly and told me it would be very discreet, stating that I suffered from an unspecified medical condition.

I came home and naturally my parents had no problem letting me know what a disappointment I had been. That was expected. I knew I was. My mother told me that the police had searched everywhere for a suicide note that didn’t exist. She was now missing 2 pairs of her favorite underwear that she had just washed and put in the drawer that very morning. I could tell they had been through my underwear drawer as well. It looked like it had been rummaged through. Apparently it was commonplace for people to hide suicide notes in their underwear drawers, or in their parents’ underwear drawers. Or just underwear drawers in general. My father’s favorite cologne was gone.

The note the Doctor wrote however worked wonderfully. Every professor I had, had the same thing to say in response to the note, "Karina. Please take your time. Don’t rush yourself. No marks will be taken off. Just take as much time as you feel you need." I was happy and beyond relieved.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have done absolutely everything I could to be careful and not overdose. I would have never agreed to take the antidepressants. I would have never even touched alcohol, if I knew then what I know now. But unfortunately life does not work like this. I would pay for that moment years later.


© Copyright 2020 Criss Sole. All rights reserved.


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