Page 48 of Dark Ugly Places

“Nicola, you look very upset. Tell me, what is going on?”

I swallow, thinking of what to say. Don’t do anything stupid, Martha instructs.

My head shakes involuntarily, and Dr. Constance watches.

“I’m having some kind of a crisis here …”

Constance’s brow narrows. “What do you mean by crisis?”

“I feel like I’m losing control.”

She pulls my file and notes something down. “Losing control, how?”

My leg pricks with numbness and sends a shooting pain of electricity down the back of my leg. “Of everything. My life. My thoughts. Myself.”

“How are you losing control of yourself, Nicola? Can you give me an example?”

Martha pokes me. She will think you’re crazy. And you know what happens to crazy people.

“Right,” I agree and stop myself. I feel a bubble of shame starting to form around me. No one can know about this. No one. “Someone took all my medication,” I blurt. “I need my medication, Dr. Constance.”

Constance frowns, looking rather irritated. “What happened to your medication?”

“I just told you. Someone took it.”

“Someone like Emmy?”

“No. Not Emmy. I don’t know, but it’s gone, okay?”

“You’ve been robbed, then?”

A low grunt escapes me. “It’s not like that. It’s my fault. I lost track of it. It’s just gone.”

“Nicola. What you are saying isn’t making sense.”

“I lost it, okay? And I need to get more. But my prescriptions … I need new prescriptions.”

“I hate to point this out, but it’s important you understand: you are more anxious than usual. Agitated even.” She notes something down and stares at me with interest.

“I am. Yes, to tell you the truth, I’m very agitated. I’m anxious. I’m depressed. I’m scared …”

Constance frowns. “Scared? Do you feel that you may hurt yourself or someone else?”

I shrug uselessly.

Not a good answer, Martha warns.

Constance continues writing something in my file, waiting for me to elaborate. My stomach churns. I pinch the bridge of my nose, focusing the pain into the tips of my fingers. I dig into my purse for the Imitrex I didn’t take at breakfast. But, of course, I come up empty. A sense of panic runs through me. How can I function without it?

“I didn’t come here for a session, Dr. Constance. I need more pills. For the migraines. It’s an emergency.”

“Your doctor must prescribe that. I’m not a physician.”

“Yes, but I don’t have time to wait for an appointment. I need them now. Today. Immediately.”

“Are you in physical pain?”

“Yes! And it will get worse if I don’t take them. They’re preventative. I need them.”