Break

Finn grabbed her keys off of the table by the door, only one sleeve of her zip-up sweatshirt on and panic in her eyes. She rushed down the five front steps and fumbled to manually open the door of her old Corolla. The gravel of the narrow driveway screeched as the car reversed and Finn started up the hill to the main road, speeding fifteen miles per hour over the limit. Finn turned left onto Boston Neck Road and frantically yanked on the other half of her hoodie and pulled her phone out of her pocket, her eyes flashing between the road and the screen. No new messages, her mind screamed at her. F**k, Charlie, what are you doing?!

Finn ran through the memory of Charlie’s call, the conversation they had not even five minutes ago. Finn had been lying in her bed, fresh out of a post-work shower. The late September chill through the open window of her bedroom caused her eyes to droop, and Finn had been dozing on her unmade bed, too tired to even trade her bathrobe for sweatpants. She was jostled awake by the vibration of the cell phone that lay near her head. Grumbling and not wanting to move, Finn lazily grabbed the phone, and then bolted upright when she caught sight of the ten digits on the screen. Charlie?! Although Finn had long since deleted her ex-girlfriend from her contacts list, she would never forget the number she knew by heart for over two years. Finn sat gawking at her phone for so long that she missed the call. She felt conflicted. Should I call back? she thought to herself. She didn’t have to. The number appeared on the screen again. Finn took a deep breath, scratching her damp hair nervously, unsure of what to do. She shut her eyes, swiped to answer, and said, “Hello?”

“Finn! Finn, it’s…it’s Charlie.”

The voice, both so familiar and yet so foreign in its rasp and urgency, cut through Finn’s eardrum and lodged in her brain. Finn’s head panicked in response. I can’t do this, I can’t talk to her!

“Charlie, what…uh…what do you…how are you?”

Finn hit her palm to her forehead. Two sentences in and she wanted to run away and never return...which, incidentally, is pretty much what ended her relationship with the girl she was currently on the phone with.

“I’m…it’s so good to hear your voice. God, it’s so good. I always loved your voice.”

Finn crinkled her eyebrows. Charlie wasn’t the type to be so forward, even if they had dated for two years. Finn stood up from her bed, holding her towel up around her. Her entire body was tense, a feeling she was all too familiar with when it came to Charlie.

Finn heard Charlie clear her throat, and her voice trembled a bit as she continued, “Well, I just…” more trembling, and Finn thought she heard a sniffle and the stifling of sobs.

“Charlie, what’s wrong? You’re kind of freaking me out,” Finn said, forcing an uncomfortable laugh, trying to move past the discomfort of the call.

“Finn, I just…needed to tell you. Before I go. I love you and I am so sorry for what I put you through…and I wanted to see you…but…I don’t know if I can wait…goodbye.”

Silence.

“Charlie?! CHARLIE?!” Finn yelled into the phone, her eyes wide and face white with confusion and panic. She threw her towel to the floor and manically dressed herself.

Finn leaned over her the driver’s seat, as if doing so would will the vehicle in front of hers to go faster. She analyzed her conversation with Charlie, telling herself that this was not what she thought it was. It’s just another episode, Finn told herself. She is unhinged and wanted to reach out to you but didn’t know how to.

One year ago, Finn had packed up her car, left Charlie a note, and moved an hour away to Narragansett. The long drive gave Finn plenty of time to cry, scream, and eventually tell herself that what she was doing was not horrible.

The day before leaving, Finn had told Charlie that she no longer loved her. What Finn truly meant was that she did not know how to love Charlie anymore. In their two years together, Finn discovered that it was nearly impossible to take care of someone who was intent on sabotaging herself. Charlie needed Finn’s love because Charlie had no love for herself. This lack of self-appreciation left Charlie jealous, paranoid, moody, and constantly in need of Finn’s affirmation and reassurance. No matter what Finn did, Charlie only seemed to dive deeper into the grotto of misery she had created for herself. Finn begged Charlie to get help, begged her to try harder at controlling her moods and focusing on the good things about their life together. This only fueled Charlie’s rage, and her words became increasingly aggressive, though her physical punishments were saved for herself.

Finn could not change this. But she’d be damned if she’d let someone she had loved, and still loved, harm themselves.

Finn had that awful feeling that this time, Charlie was serious. She had attempted to take her life twice before: once before meeting Finn, and once about a year and a half into their relationship. Charlie’s weapon of choice was pills and alcohol. The cocktail of who knows what was always vomited up before doing its job. Finn found Charlie on the bathroom floor by the toilet, covered in vomit and blood, an empty bottle of Absolut smashed on the floor.

Screeeeech!

The smell and sound of tires burning against pavement brought Finn out of her memories. The car in front of hers slammed on its brakes, and Finn’s body, though it had been on autopilot, did the same. Finn’s car came to a belligerent stop. F**k, I definitely killed my breaks, she cursed to herself. She gulped as she realized that she could have easily just sandwiched the car in front of her with the car turning left.

Focus, Finn, she thought. Breathe.

As the other car moved again, Finn gingerly stepped on the gas pedal of her Corolla and looked, really looked, at her surroundings. How am I already in Portsmouth? She was baffled as she drove by Charlie’s favorite date-night diner, a mere fifteen minutes away from their old apartment in Warren, the apartment Charlie still lived in, the apartment that Finn was trying as fast as possible to get to in time.

Finn sped over the Mt. Hope Bridge and through the streets of Bristol. The nostalgia shot through her instantly as her eyes glazed over all of the places she had been with Charlie. These little towns had been her home"no, their home. She and Charlie had moved in together almost instantly. They had been friends for a few months before exploring their romantic relationship, and Charlie had found a single-bedroom apartment for herself, something close to Second Story Theatre, where she had interned during college. She was eventually hired to work in the costume shop, and helped Finn land a job building sets and doing miscellaneous technical tasks. Finn had lived in an apartment in Providence near the college they had both graduated from, but ended up spending so many late nights at work that it was easier to crash at Charlie’s. The move-in had been gradual and just seemed to make sense.

The memories burned, and manifested into quiet tears. Finn wiped the skin under her eyes, angry at her reaction, and for the first time this entire drive, angry at Charlie. How could she do this to everyone? How could she think that a call is a goodbye?!

The Corolla pulled into the tiny lot driveway of the apartment building on Child Street. Finn leaped out of the car, being sure to slam the door hard, hoping that Charlie would hear…if she could. Finn walked to the first-floor door and knocked, loudly. No answer. No rustling heard from inside. Panicking, Finn tried the doorknob, relieved to find it unlocked. Charlie had always been a stickler for locking the door, so Finn hoped that Charlie intended for someone to enter. She had a feeling that the intended someone was her.

Finn swung open the door, quickly closing it behind her with a creaky thud. She rushed down the front hallway and into the main room. Her old coffee maker, still on the counter in the kitchen. The couch they bought at Cardi’s, covered in an ugly chartreuse blanket that Charlie’s mom had knit for them. A year felt both like an eternity and a day. Finn was both an intruder and an owner. She shook off the hurt, the longing to stay forever, and headed down the hallway that led to the single bathroom and bedroom. She did not hear a sound, and her confidence while walking in quickly dissipated. The only sound was that of her heavy breathes and soft feet as she slowly stepped down the hallway. She noticed that the bathroom door was left ajar, and her mind was telling her “Do not go in there!” Finn wanted badly to heed her own warnings, but instead nudged it open with her hand before letting her body move into the room.

Finn collapsed, letting her body slam onto the tiles.

Charlie was sitting in the empty tub, curled in the corner with her back against the white shower wall. She was fully clothed but sopping wet, though there was no water running. Finn noticed the water residue on the floor of the tub. Charlie was shivering and her eyes were blank.

“Charlie?” Finn whispered.

Charlie turned her head slightly towards Finn, as if she had just noticed that her ex-girlfriend had entered the bathroom. “Finn,” she croaked out, eyes glazed and murky, almost void of any sort of comprehension.

Finn slid over to Charlie, shaking and terrified of what was happening. She didn’t understand this, didn’t understand what Charlie was doing, what she had possibly done to herself. She reached Charlie and forced herself to take both of Charlie’s wrists in her hands and inspect them. The scars from Charlie’s years of self-harm were there, but none were fresh, and all were going across Charlie’s wrists. No new cuts. No cuts going in the direction that meant the end.

“Finn…” Charlie’s voice was so feeble, barely audible coming out of her frozen figure.

Finn leaned closer to Charlie, and the side of her leg hit a glass object. She looked down and saw a bottle of vodka, empty, on its side by the tub. An intense flash of fear struck through Finn’s body. “Charlie, did you take anything? What did you take? Come on, you have to tell me!” She practically shook Charlie, as if doing so would force the answers, and any possible destruction, out of her.

Charlie just shook her head, her wet hair moving to cover her eyes. “It’s…stop. No use. It’s alright. You’ll be alright.”

“Charlie! Did you or did you not take pills?”

Finn saw Charlie glance towards the sink. Finn spun around and noticed a bottle on the counter. Finn stood up on gelatin legs and grabbed the bottle. Empty, just like the vodka. Charlie had filled herself with death. Her last meal.

Before she could even think, Finn scrambled for the phone in the pocket of her hoodie and dialed 9-1-1. “Please! Please come as soon as possible! My friend is dying!”