by Charlie Carrol

Clattering emanates from the kitchen as Jay works on the dishes. I watch, lounging on the couch in the living room while chattering reporters on the television fill the background with noise. My gaze shifts from Jay to Alex, who stands behind Jay while he works. Alex’s whispers drift on the air, yet I can’t make out what they’re saying.

“What are you two conniving?”

The sound of whispering and clanking dishes stops, as Jay turns towards Alex. They both look at me for a moment, then the dish-rattling returns as Jay turns back to the chore. Alex catches me rolling my eyes as I walk over. Their glare withers away at my soul, but I continue nonetheless. Jay pulls away from the dishes and looks at me. I push Jay out of my way. He stumbles a little, and I move towards the back door.

“Real childish of you Ash,” Alex growls.

I slide open the door to the backyard and stride over to the shed, ignoring the two people following me. Slipping my hands into the gardening gloves, shifting to look at my plants. From flowers to vines, they all glow in the light as if they were angels descending from heaven. They’ve grown into a jungle, dappled light flowing through their leaves. I care for this. This is my sanctuary.

“Ash,” Jay’s voice snaps me out of my peace,

“We have stuff to do.”

I shrug and continue to grab tools. My trowel, fork, aerator, shears all lay before me. Alex shoves me into the table, and Jay snatches my arms. Alex leads the way while Jay maneuvers me to follow.

Jay drags me into our room, while Alex sits on the bed and sets up a laptop. Our email is checked and a link is clicked. It takes a few minutes, but eventually our therapist pops onto the screen.

“How’s it been going, Jay?” they ask.