Victoria, Where Did I Go Wrong?

"You sure know how to tell a story," the aid said bringing Victoria back from her memories.

Victoria sat on the wooden chair in the white room, her eyes swollen from the tears that had fallen as she retold her past.

It had been six years since her mom Rebecca and her mom's lover Michael had passed away. For Victoria, the time moved slowly and somehow hadn’t moved at all. There were moments when she thought that her mother might walk through the door and save her from this place.

A sober feeling pressed into her chest at the realization that this would never become a reality. It had been a year since her friendship with Amber ended. The losses had begun to take their toll. The isolation she felt continued to grow. Her eyes had grown dull over time and Victoria merely found herself staring up at the ceiling with a heavy heart.

"Do you want to finish the story?" the aid asked. It was the way she asked that left Victoria feeling like maybe she should at least finish talking about her last interaction with Amber.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I was sitting across from Amber in the cafe. My world was wrapped up in this moment and I didn't know how she was going to respond to anything I was about to tell her but I had to say it anyway, “They are watching us,” I said to Amber just before a pair of piercing red eyes captured her attention. I never imagined how Amber would respond.“Who’s watching us?” Amber asked incredulously. I leaned in closer, “the shadowmen,” I said in whisper. She laughed. Her laughter was so hearty and robust that it threw me off guard and I felt myself growing angry from embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m being serious,” I said forcefully."

Victoria paused. Her mind reeled with emotion. She stared at the camera as though she were staring at Amber while she laughed. The memory pained her.

“If you are being serious, you have some serious issues and maybe you need more ‘professional help’” Amber mused with finger quotes in the air. The silence that filled the space between us was deafening. Amber refused to look at me and I was filled with disgust. My best friend didn't believe me. She had seen those red eyes so clearly. I know she saw them. I watched her eyes open wide and close again as she pretended that she didn't see. I felt such powerlessness. I stood up and walked out. I wanted to turn around but my pride wouldn’t allow such a display of weakness. All I thought as my fingers gripped the bar was, ‘She didn’t even call my name.’ "

“I wish I would have said something to her. Maybe I would be able to talk to her right now, maybe I would be…” her words lingered because she didn’t want to think about where she was at that moment. She didn’t want to think about how hard it had all become.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried her mind refused to grant her peace. Her thoughts drifted to her father. After her mom passed her dad had started drinking. He had never been a drinker before but loss had changed him. He had grown to take to the bottle like a baby takes to the breast. He was always at the bar. It had been a terrifying thought for Victoria the fear of the day that he wouldn’t come home either.

"What about that day made you decide to start your story there?" the aid asked. Victoria turned torwards the aid and pressed her right hand under her chin as she allowed her head to sink into it.

"Well...I guess that was when I realized that I was completely alone." she said matter of factly.

"What about your father and your sister?"

"Well. One night, I had come home and I said "Dad?" he was sitting in the study holding a bottle of whisky in his hand and his eyes were hazy. I couldn’t help but notice that I had his eyes. Mine were also filled with heartache and pain yet when he looked up it was as though he hadn't seen me at all."

"What happened?" the aid asked.

"He called out to me and said, “Victoria.” His whispered it as though he were searching for me. He didn't see me. He didn't see me even though I stood there standing in front of him still and motionless waiting for him to notice me. I waited for him to embrace me and tell me that everything was going to be ok. I waited in vain for he had been like this since that first day he learned the truth about my mother. The luster of life and joy that once embodied my daddy was gone. It died with her. He looked off past me in the distance, “Victoria, where did I go wrong?” I wanted to answer him but knew that he wasn’t really speaking to me. He stared past me looking towards the shadows of memories and fears. He looked off into the world of something I hadn't been able to grasp. ‘What is he thinking?’ I wondered as I watched him converse with his demons."

"That's terrible." the aid said as she shifted her weight from one leg to the next.

"My father sat there, staring past me, talking to the version of me that no longer existed. “I loved her, you know. I loved her completely. She gave me two precious gifts and I will cherish these gifts until the day that I die, Victoria?” he paused still not looking at me in the eye. His gaze fixed somewhere off in the distance between space and time, life and death. I stumbled with my words. I was afraid to speak but afraid to remain silent. “Yes, daddy?” the tremor in my voice mirrored the fear in my heart. “I don’t know if I can do this without her. She was the strong one you know,” he took another swig of whisky and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “She was the foundation of this family and that stranger stole her from me...from us,” he began to sob into his hands and I knew that this was the end of our conversation."

"Why did you think it was the end of your conversation?"

"I knew it was the end because as I left the room he didn't try to stop me. I wouldn’t judge him because I knew what it was like to experience grief and loss. His pain was just different from mine and maybe it was a little too raw."

"What happened next?" the aid said while resting her right index finger to her bottom lip. Victoria smiled.

"I left. Time past and I found myself in a place of my own. I sat up from my bed and looked around my apartment. It was a cozy studio. The twin size bed took up a modest amount of space in the corner of the room near the window. My apartment was on the 2nd floor which I found comforting because it was just high enough to prevent intruders but low enough for escape in an emergency situation. It was cool so I didn't need a large cover. I only needed a thin sheet and the window was left slightly cracked to allow the night breeze to come in."

"The sun peeked through the light pink curtains and laid a warm kiss on my face most mornings. I'd smile because it made me feel good and peaceful. Some days I dragged myself out of bed and walked the few paces towards my bathroom. Inside was a shower, a toilet, and a sink. It wasn’t much but it was enough to meet my needs and that was all that I could ask for. After I'd finished off my morning routine I'd walk over to the kitchen and bew brew a pot of coffee. “Mmmm...coffee…” I'd say as I sniffed the steaming pot that was brewing."

"Once it was finished I'd prepare the cup and sit down at the kitchen table. It was a modest table that looked like one of those tables you would play poker on. The legs were less than steady but the table never broke and it had only cost me $20 so I wasn’t going to complain. The table came with two folding chairs so in my mind I got a bargain and my table was perfect. I knew though that I was going to have to start documenting some of what was happening. If I didn't...I couldn't think about that. So, I openeed the journal and began to write."