In every man or woman's life, there is a point in time where everything seems dark and indistinguishable. Reality and fantasy can blur like faded coffee stains running down white bedsheets.
Avery never considered this moment would come in the form of her dead best friend telling her that she took her own life.
She closed her eyes, trying not to tear up from the stress of it all. "How do I do that, Jerome?"
"You need to think about it." Avery could feel his hand on her shoulder. "I know it's hard, but you have to."
"Okay. What about?"
There was a pause. "Just think of what happened when you came home from school today."
Avery tried. She sifted through the intermittent chaos erupting in her brain, looking for anything relevant.
"--the FUCK do you think I am?" Dad screamed, holding his black tie in a clenched fist.
"I..." Avery swallowed. "I need to take a bath."
Suddenly, Avery's eyes flew open. "Jerome, I got something."
Jerome looked relieved. "What was it, Ave?"
"It was..." For some reason, the words caught in her throat. "I went up to take a bath. Is that enough?"
Jerome frowned. "No. You..." He sighed. "Keep looking. You need to find out why. That's the only way." He took her hand in his. "I'm here, Ave. You've just got to do this."
Shivering, Avery closed her eyes once more. The sifting happened again, but more cautiously this time. She was frightened about what she might see.
Avery looked through the medicine cabinet...
She stopped, starting to cry. "Jerome..."
"Keep going." His deep bass resonated in the meaningless abyss.