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She writes what I imagine is my name along the tab of the folder. “So, before we end today’s session, can you meet me halfway here and tell me one thing about you. Anything. Just something to jot down so we don’t leave today with an empty folder.” She caps the pen, lifts her head and gives me a wink. “Call me superstitious, but it sets a bad precedent.”
Sucking my cheek in, I consider her, debating whether or not I can trust her.
Because she’s right. The notes and reports still exist. Almost everything’s digitized these days. I’m sure she has it all on her computer anyway.
And still…
My heart gives a little thump, and again, green eyes flash across my head. The last image I have of him before he all but ran off, leaving me alone on the beach.
I could’ve gone up to the cliffs after that.
But I didn’t.
I came back here, to the main building, found my way back to the tiny waiting room that had sent me into a claustrophobic spiral earlier, and…waited to be called into my new therapist’s office. I was late, and yet she waited for me.
It’s like she knew I would run.
Knew I’d find my way back.
Dr. Laura Maddock,her plaque next to the door read, I remember.
Laura.
Latin origins.
Means victory, or may refer to the laurel plant.
Eyes burning, I shrug a shoulder, and say the only thing I’m willing to give right now. “My name is Skyler.”
Dr. Maddock gives me an encouraging nod and smiles. “It’s very nice to meet you, Skyler.” Standing, she comes around, and I half expect her to reach out for my hand to shake like she did earlier.
But she doesn’t, and while I would’ve shaken it again no problem—it’s what I’ve been taught, how I’ve been raised; it’s reflex at this point when I meet doctors, quick and fast, just enough to seem normal—I feel something unfurl in my chest at the gesture. Like some invisible pressure I didn’t even know was there has been removed.
I inhale and push to a stand, following her to where she opens the door for me.
She gives me a nod. “Until next time.”
Throat unbearably thick, all I can do is nod.
This time, I can’t hold her gaze. All I can do is stare at the floor through a sheen of tears as I exit her office, bypass the guy waiting for his turn, and stride down the hall, barely paying attention to where I’m going.
Someone asks me if I need help finding my room, but I ignore them. I only got to see it once before they were sweeping me off to my intake physical, but I made sure to memorize how to get there.
It’s the first time I don’t have to share a room with someone. The first time in a long time where I have somewhere to retreat to that is mine and mine alone.
Sure, during holiday breaks growing up, I’d get to go home to my own room. But it was very few and far between. It never really felt like mine anyway.
And since turning eighteen a couple weeks ago…
Well, everything was a bit of a blur, and then it wasn’t, and now I’m here.
Inrehabof all places.
Shaking my head, I find my room, lift the bracelet they slapped around my wrist to the little reader under the handle until it flashes green. I shove the door open, letting it close behind me with a quiet click.
I head straight for the big bay window across the room on the other side of my bed, and whip the curtains open. I don’t have a balcony. The windows don’t even open. But the view is pretty amazing.
White-knuckling the curtain, I breathe deeply in and out through my nose, neck tendons straining.
