“I’m not here to force you to talk or make you see things in a different way. You can think of me as a friend you vent to, one who will listen. I’ll give you advice on how to go about things differently, when and if needed. I don’t take sides, so you’ll eventually hear me give you another point of view from time to time. I’m also not your mother, but that’s probably a good thing, since Dawn had explained that bit.”
I took a seat, pulling my legs to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. My heels were right on the edge of the seat, and the pressure put pressure on my ribs that were still healing. But the small amount of pain was nothing.
“Progress already!” she smiled once I sat. I blinked, not impressed. “Alright. Not one for jokes. Got it.” She shifted, putting both feet on the floor while also slipping a stray piece of black hair behind her head that fell from hertight bun. “I’m glad your aunt came in to explain things first, which also put all the questions I usually ask at the first meeting out the window. But you also aren’t the first person who won’t talk that I’ve met. I’m creative, and can find different ways.
“So, I’ll start off with summarizing what Dawn told me. Will that work?”
I shrugged. Why was she asking when she’d do it anyhow?
“I just want to make sure she has the story right.” She paused again, letting the words soak into my brain. “You were taken from your parents at age four after they were both found with meth. They lost custody, since they refused to get clean. No family members had been contacted on your behalf, which meant you got put into the foster care system. That alone can be tough. There, you were bounced from home to home until you were about eleven. At least that’s when the system lost track of you.”
I tilted my head, trying to think back on how old I was the first time I was taken away in the middle of the night to the first basement I had been thrown in. I wasn’t sure how old I had been, since it felt like yesterday, but at the same time years ago.
“Am I on the right path so far?”
I nodded and shrugged.
“Dawn has no clue what you’ve been through, and neither do I for that matter. We can only take guesses, but we’ll get back to that another day. So, after the social workersfinally noticed you were gone from the last foster home, they never did a missing child report, but that’s pretty normal too. They most likely thought you were a runaway.
“Then, years later, you show up at a hospital by some stranger who found you on the side of the road. And now, you are here.”
I had figured that Dawn would have known more, or at least guessed. Maybe she had talked about what all the test results were.
“Of course, she’d like to know what happened between all that, but that’s your story to tell. One that will only be shared when you’re ready.”
It wasn’t a hard story to guess about. Surely anyone who saw the results that hospital had done, it wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes to connect the dots.
“I can gather, of course, that you were abused. I can see that in the way you hold yourself. You’ve been to hell, and I’d like to help to bring you back to earth, at least. Life won’t ever be perfect, and the past will sneak up on you when you least want it to. But things will get better if you try. If you don’t put the effort into it, then nothing will change and you'll be a ghost in life. And that won’t be fun.”
Didn’t she know that life wasn’t fun to begin with?
“For now, as you think over this question. Are you willing to try? If so, am I the right person to help you?”
I shrugged. I had no answer. I was only here because Dawn wanted me to be.
“That’s okay too. Maybe we could at least give it one more chance?”
I blinked, not entirely sure about that either, even though I was sure I’d have to.
“If you feel up to it,” Dr. Shaw stood, walking to one of the bookshelves that lined a wall. “You can write anything you want in here. It’s for your secrets. No one will read it. Not me, not Dawn. Unless you want us too, of course. It’s a great place to at least get some thoughts down. Write down how much you hate certain people in your past. Write the things that haunt you and the wishes of you.”
Dr. Shaw handed me a black spiral notebook and pen. I slowly reached a hand out to take them, eyeing the items like they could possibly burn me.
“You can even write questions to Dawn. She’d be happy to answer anything. She knows I’m giving you this, and the reasons. There is no pressure at all for you to use it. We just want to give you a voice, in any way possible. You don’t have to go on with life being scared to ask for what you need, or even want.”
Chapter 9
“I just need to stop at a couple of places before we head home,” Dawn mumbled, turning into a shopping center-like place. There were too many cars, too many people, for my liking. It kind of sucked that it was something I had to start getting used to.
“You can stay in the car. I shouldn’t be too long.”
That sounded good enough to me, so I nodded. Staying in some sort of fake safety would be better than going into a store with too bright of lights and with too many people.
Dawn parked in front of some store, the windows too big with huge stickers on them. The red word at the top of the storefront was easy enough to see, even if I didn’t have glasses.
“Just gotta get a new phone,” she said, turning the car off, but leaving the key in the ignition. “Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”
When I didn’t reply, not like she expected it anyhow, she gave me a soft smile before leaving the car. I watched her walk, her purple skirt flowing with each step around her legs.
