Fighting For Avery

Introducing Avery King

*Charlotte's POV* 

"Do you ever wonder what it's like when you die?" Avery asked sincerely, as she shifted in her sleeping bag to turn towards me.

Avery was sleeping over for the fourth time that August.  I looked at the clock. 2AM. It was always late when we would have our deep conversations, talking about anything. They weren't any different from our usual conversations, except for one thing. We were both tired. Our minds wandered further than usual. But I was always aware of this. I listened carefully to and remembered everything that Avery would tell me, because I knew that it was always the truth that was escaping from her mouth. 

"No, not really. I have other things to worry about," I replied.

"Really? Like what?" Avery questioned. 

Don't get me wrong, I loved Avery. But I'm going to admit that it wasn't a surprise that Avery was so concerned about death.  Although she was only fifteen years-old, she suffered from mild teenage depression. In eighth grade, someone had started a rumor about Avery being suicidal.  After that incident, she was labeled as "The Emo Girl" for the rest of the year. It wasn't until ninth grade when most people started minding their own business and actually started maturing.  I was probably her only good friend. In second grade, I swore a friendship oath with her.  I couldn't break a promise, even though I was as young as eight-years-old when I made it. But why would I want to? Even though Avery could barely even support herself, she was always there for me. She at least made an effort, but that was good enough.

She wasn't always like that though.  In second grade on the first day of school, Avery was the first friend that I made. We talked about childish things, and that was the first time I saw her brilliant smile-- a smile that no longer existed. A smile that I didn't know would in a few years disappear for what seemed like forever.  Back then, she was the most optimistic person. She was actually happy. 

But in sixth grade, it felt like a hurricane of depression hit Avery.  It was the disaster that affected both of our lives drastically.  It was the superstorm of the century.  There was no doubt that it was the storm of the century. Except for the fact that no one else knew about it.  No one else felt it like she did, and I for her. No one else could see through to the pain in Avery's pretty hazel eyes. No one was affected except the two of us.  It was like a secret barrage of sadness that hit us that we had to keep a secret. In tenth grade, everything changed. My best friend built emotional walls and blocked everyone out of her life, except for me. I couldn't leave her when she needed someone there for her most.

 I didn't want our conversation to continue.  I wanted Avery to focus on positive things in her life.

"Never mind," I mumbled under my breath as I forced myself to yawn. 

I felt bad for cutting her off.  "I'm tired. Sorry. I think I'm gonna fall asleep any minute," I lied.

"Fine, Char," Avery scoffed. 

I felt her eyes roll at the back of my head.  But I didn't care.

I wanted Avery to change.  I wanted her so badly to be bubbly and charismatic like how she once was. I didn't want her to be so emotional all the time. It hurt watching her cry in the bathroom at school. I was especially shocked when I found scars on Avery's wrist back in May when we were required to roll our sleeves up for a chemistry experiment. They weren't just a few scars, there were many. More than I could count.  On both the left and right, cuts shot up her arms. Some were healing, some looked newer. But no one else ever noticed because she refused to wear short-sleeved shirts.  Even in the spring, she was wrapped up in her deceitful hoodies and sweaters, hiding herself from the rest of the ignorant world.  I constantly tried to help her with her cutting, but her stubbornness was as strong as a rock wall. But maybe there was more to it than what it seemed like. I never knew exactly how she felt because I'd never been in her position before. She was permanently scarred emotionally. I don't think I'll never know how hard it was for her.

Avery didn't tell me about all of her internal thoughts and personal problems, but one thing that affected her life drastically was the fact that she was adopted. The thought of being abandoned only actually occured to her when she was in sixth grade. She told me about how she felt betrayed and how much it hurt her to know that her parents didn't want her. She didn't deserve to suffer so much, especially at eleven years in her life. She constantly thought to herself, I feel so out of place.  No one understands.  Because of her harsh past, Avery had ten times more insecurities bottled up inside than the average teenager. She was the most introverted person I knew. She was never happy with herself. Society made her think she was never good enough. She worried about her weight. But I didn't tell anyone about Avery's weaknesses. I took everything in, yet kept it to myself. She trusted me and I didn't want to let my best friend down.

Sometimes I wished we were young again, back in second grade, when we didn't care what other people thought about us.  When we could express our feelings to the world and wouldn't be judged.  When all decisions were made for us, with the exception of what colors were used to paint our carefree masterpieces that were eventually hung out in the hallway by the teacher. But ultimately, I yearn for the time when every kid was happy with his or her life. Especially Avery.

My name is Charlotte Hale, and Avery King is my second half.