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Goddamnit I’m getting soft.
Andrew pushes up from his seat, holding his hand out to Arriana. “I’ve got even better news.” He announces, winking at her as she hands over the tablet. Tapping on the screen, he pulls up a document, turning the screen so we can see. “You’ve already got your first job.”
Arriana shrieks, jumping in place and smacking Andrew on the back. I lean forward and inspect the details, my chest lighter than it has been in decades.
We finally have a say in the hits we’re going to take. No more unnecessary deaths by my hand, less to stain my soul.
Andrew smiles, setting the tablet down and clasping his hands together.
“Welcome to FindingLight everyone.”
Epilogue
Avamarie
1 year later
I wring my hands as I sit and wait in the exam room. I got the call to schedule a yearly exam with the clinic a few weeks ago and the day is finally here. It doesn’t matter how many times Ihave come in, I still get nervous that they’re going to suddenly be terrible like all the other offices.
A soft knock sounds shortly before Dr. Lareu enters the room, a smile on her face when she sees me. “Hello Ava.” She greets, extending her hand to me.
I smile back, shaking her offered hand before clasping mine together again. “Hi Dr. Lareu.” I mutter, trying to stay still as I wait for her to take her seat.
Lowering herself onto the wheeled stool, she unlocks the computer and clicks through my chart. “So how are you feeling, dear?”
I sit silently for a moment as I ponder her question.
How am I feeling?
In the last year, Killian and I have only grown closer. Our lives having changed drastically after he started his company FindingLight. I’m still not entirely certain what they do but know it’s not exactly legal. Despite the legality issue, they make up for the wrongdoings by regularly donating a generous portion of the profits to various charities, always made in honor of some man named Kenneth. I asked Killian about it once and he clammed up, getting a far away look in his eyes. I didn’t ask again but could tell there was more to the story, perhaps one day I’ll get to hear it.
Looking toward the doctor, a grin spreads on my face. “I’m amazing.” I reply, finding for the first time it’s true.
She returns my smile. “That’s wonderful.” She enthuses, turning back to the screen. “So I see here you were diagnosed with borderline personality disorder following a hospital stay. How is that going?”
I stare at her dumbfounded. This is the first I’m hearing of any official diagnosis being given. I also find myself more than a little offended that there would be something permanently placed onmy record when I spent so little time talking with the medical professionals.
When I don’t respond, Dr. Lareu looks at me, her expression concerned. “Oh dear, did no one tell you?” I shake my head, fighting back the anger. Scooting over, she stops in front of me, crossing her legs. “I’m so sorry, Ava. They should have informed you of the diagnosis and given you resources to get help.”
My mind reels the rest of the appointment. Everything is a blur as she explains what borderline personality disorder, or BPD, is and how it’s treated. I nod numbly when she offers to print out some resources and recommendations for psychologists in the area. By the time I leave the office, I’m unable to focus on anything and find myself wandering down the streets of Seattle.
I’m sick? I knew that I was a little different but to have a full blown mental disorder is…it’s too much.
My stomach lurches and I sprint to the corner of the sidewalk as I expel its contents onto the concrete. Several people pass by making noises of disgust but I can’t stop, even when nothing comes out as I heave over and over.
Bracing myself on my knees, I push up and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I slip it out, answering silently.
“Avamarie?” Killian’s worried voice comes through the speaker. A sob breaks free as I can’t hold back the pain I feel anymore. “Baby girl? What’s wrong? Where are you?” I can’t answer any of his questions as I cry. “Don’t move, okay? I’m coming to get you.”
I nod, hiccuping a breath and whisper, “Okay.” Killian disconnects the call and I stand alone on the street, clutching my arms around my chest as years of memories flood me, all filtered through the new lens of my diagnosis.
I’m crazy.
I sob harder, as Tyler’s face flashes in my mind. My obsession over him. My sudden disinterest the moment I had a new focus.
Everything about me…
Memories of past friends and family I cut out of my life. My impulsive decisions. My inability to control my temper. My irrational irritability.
