Original Short Story by Kayla Kalkbrenner, '22

Allyra

As she started to wake up, she noticed she was in an unfamiliar place. She didn't know where she was, but she wasn’t scared. In fact, Allyra had gotten pretty used to finding her way home even if she couldn’t remember how she’d ended up there. She brought her hands to her head and rubbed her eyes, to wipe away the fog that was clouding her brain like the steam on a mirror after a long shower. Beeping noises sounded all around her, and she thought she was going crazy until she slowly blinked her eyes open and saw the buzzing fluorescent lights above her. Her senses came back to her all at once, and she felt the scratch of the sheets rubbing against her bare legs. The all too familiar smell of life and death, recovery and sickness. She was back in the hospital, she knew that much. Allyra was so tired, and hospitals made her feel safe. She wanted to turn over and sleep for a whole week. Her body was numb and she didn’t care enough to figure out what was going on. Did her mom know where she was? Who brought her to the hospital? How many days have passed? Headache. Too much. Deep breath. She pulled the blanket up to her neck and went back to sleep.

She knew it hurt them to see her like this, but no matter what she didn’t she couldn’t get clean. Following the accident that landed her in the hospital, she went to rehab and was forced to attend weekly group meetings where she lied about her progress and milestones of being clean. She couldn’t stand to disappoint her mom, but she also couldn’t stand being sober. So she did everything she could to deceive her mom even as she slipped further and further into her old habits. Sometimes she felt cursed and liked to blame her addiction on the dad she never really met. Her mom kicked him out before Allyra was even born due to his own drug abuse. She felt trapped in an endless cycle, and no matter how many times she made a promise to end her misery, it never held up. Anytime she felt down, drugs were the only escape she had. Now she knew you weren’t supposed to say that drugs are good, but for Allyra they were the best way to stay in the good moments.

One day at her group meeting as she was sitting in the back, half-asleep, a man sat down next to her and asked “why do you come into a room full of people struggling with drug addiction and lie about staying clean?” She didn’t know how he knew, or why he even cared, but something about him made her feel safe and so she replied with the only words she could think of “I don’t know.”

Over the next few weeks she began to confide in the man Peter, and they often went to breakfast after meetings. She trusted him, and he gave the advice that helped her more and more each week. After days of confiding in him, she realized she hadn’t lied to him once. As she went to bed one night, a month from the first day she met Peter, she smiled as she realized that tomorrow marked one whole week of being clean. This was the longest she’d gone without getting high since she got home from rehab.

She woke in the morning to the sweet smell of pancakes cooking on the griddle, and eggs being scrambled in the frying pan. She walked out to greet her mom in an unfamiliar cheery mood. Her mom smiled and said, “well good morning my sweet Allyra. How are you this morning?” She wanted to tell her mom everything. How proud she was of herself to be hitting this seven day milestone. But she knew that in admitting this accomplishment she’d be admitting to every relapse she’d made since she was released from rehab. She’d be admitting to lying to her mom for the past three months. Would her mom understand, or would she just be disappointed and hurt from the deceit? Would she lose all hope for Allyra? She loved her mom so much, and she knew she put her mom through hell raising a seventeen-year-old daughter with a drug problem. So she decided to keep quiet about it, just like usual.

Peter

Allyra reminded him of himself when he was younger. He could tell from the first day she came to the group meetings. She was struggling with herself and there was no way she was staying clean. He knew all signs and fidgets. The way she held the milestone coin, twisting it over and over in her hand. She was the youngest person that he’d seen attend these meetings. It was a good sign that she actually showed up and stayed the whole time. But these speeches spoken by random strangers on a stage were doing nothing to help her. Peter knew firsthand just how much damage a drug addiction could cause. He lost everything. His wife was his whole world, but he couldn’t hide his drug usage. When he came home one day after being gone for two nights, he took one look at the disappointment and anger in her eyes and knew that it was over. Since that day he’d never found the courage to find her again. He told himself she was better off without him anyway. It has been 17 years and she probably had a whole new life, a husband, kids. Still, not a day went by that he didn’t think about her. She was the reason he was able to quit. He attends these weekly meetings now as a reminder of his past, and everything he’d overcome. That was why he felt so compelled to help Allyra. He didn’t want her to make the same mistakes as him, and she still had her whole life ahead of her. Even if he could help just one person, it would all be worth it.

Allyra

Today Allyra did something she’d never thought she would. She stood up in front of everyone at group and confessed to how she had been lying. It was so refreshing, to tell the truth about her relapses, and how she’d finally made a change in her life. She owed everything to Peter. He connected with her when she was feeling hopeless. He was there to just listen and be honest with her. She was nervous to admit her failure, but she felt so supported and appreciated by everyone. She wanted to tell her mom everything that had happened but she couldn’t do it alone. She invited Peter, her main support system these past weeks, to come for dinner.

That night she sat at the table, her hands in her lap, palms sweating. She didn’t know why she was nervous for her mom to meet Peter, but she just had this weird feeling in her stomach. Maybe she was just going through withdrawal, but she had a weird sense that something was going to happen. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. He was late, and her mom was almost finished in the kitchen, cooking her favorite meal, homemade mac ‘n’ cheese with ham. She became lost in her thoughts reminiscing all the memories she and her mom shared in the kitchen when she was younger. She always used to beg to help bake cookies, or whatever it was her mom was making. She missed being a little girl before she turned fifteen and went to a party that would change her life. Where she made one of the worst choices to buy some harmless drugs so she could fit in and have fun. Allyra never thought she could get addicted to something she willingly chose to do. She always told herself, “I could stop if I wanted” but why would she want to when it made her feel so good. She was so blind to her addiction for the longest time.

The loud ring of the doorbell startled her back into reality. She got out of her seat and ran to the door, nearly stumbling to the floor in the process. “Sorry I’m a little late,” Peter said as he stepped inside and took off his coat. Allyra responded, “No worries, dinner isn’t ready yet.” “Are you ready to finally tell your mom?” said Peter. She responded with a confident “Yes.” Allyra walked with Peter into the kitchen. “Mom this is Peter from group who I’ve been telling you about.” Her mom took the oven mitts off and turned around. Allyra opened her mouth to introduce them when she caught the look on her mom's face. What was happening? This question was answered when Peter said “Isla,” her mother's first name.