"I just felt so...alone." Memories flood through Evan's mind as he struggles to admit to his mom what actually happened that day. He remembers standing on the highest branch he can up in that old oak tree. He remembers holding on, holding back tears. He remembers letting them fall. He remembers letting go. Falling, free falling. Nothing but the sky and the trees and the wind as it rushes past his ears as he falls faster and faster and faster and the ground is rushing up closer and closer and closer before...impact. He remembers opening his eyes, the awful, crushing feeling of still being alive, of having failed. He remembers laying there, waiting, hoping maybe somebody will come and ease his loneliness, hoping maybe everything will just end if he lays there long enough. Times drags on, every minute that passes a reminder that no one is coming, no one is there. He remembers sitting up, clutching his left arm to his chest as his head pounds, mentally taking count of his injuries. A massive headache from fierce contact with the ground, though surprisingly no symptoms of a concussion. Aches from the sudden impact are hardly distinguishable from the constant combination of bone deep, heavy weariness and the tense, taut, anxious strain of his muscles. His arm is swollen and bruising, prompting a sigh as he laments the inability to ignore the break and hope the it heals on its own. Rather than accomplishing what he set out to do, he's become more of an inconvenience. No tears fall as he dials his mom's number. It rings, and rings, and rings. She never answers. He remembers panicking to come up with a suitable cover story, hiding his brokenness far, far away from the light of day. The short hike back out of the woods feels like miles. He remembers composing himself on the drive to the hospital, the pain etched on his face transforming into flat stoicism, the perfect story fabricated in his mind. He remembers thinking no one would ever have to know. The emergency department waiting area is packed. He remembers being surrounded by people, yet feeling disconnected and alone. He remembers the three long, lonely hours of waiting, disappointment and self-hatred flooding every corner of his mind, before his name is called, his arm set and casted. In the weeks to come his cast will serve as a reminder of what he tried to do, what he failed to accomplish. He remembers finally getting to go home, seeing his mom's car in the driveway, aching to tell her everything, knowing he can't. The lie feels bitter as it rolls of his tongue. He remembers wanting to hide his brokenness, his mess, trying to protect his mom from anything more to worry about, not wanting to inconvenience her any more than he already is. And yet, as he stands before her nearly a year later, the truth at long last presents itself. As Evan stands, remembering everything, his mom is there. She is flawed, and he is broken, but they have each other. And in this moment, that is all they need.