“Sorry?”
Where is she going with this?I don’t trust her at all.
“Yes. When you were captive, what was the thing you missed the most and couldn’t do?”
“I guess seeing the sunlight…”
“Great! Let’s go outside, there’s plenty of sunlight to go around!” She exclaims, with more excitement than me, you could say. I can see her intention is to grab my arm; to prevent that, I shift my body slightly. She sees through that and instead walks towards the back door. I haven’t opened it myself. She goes through it and beyond her lies a beautiful garden, with lots of colorful flowers and some trees. I can’t believe this was here and I missed it completely. The moment I step outside of the house, I feel the warm breeze on my face again. I look at the doctor with resentment, I feel like she’s out of place, she doesn’t belong here. I walk past her to at least contemplate this place without her in the picture for a moment…
“We can sit right here.” She points at a set of garden chairs.
“I’d rather sit on the grass if you don’t mind.”
“Hippie…”says Life disgusted.
“Better yet!” She pulls up her skirt just a little above the knees and sits on her ankles.
Looking up from this point of view, the trees look taller and give the impression of a green ceiling, like somehow they’re hugging you. This is what I always pictured when I was in my cell staring at the ceiling. Sometimes Bruno would stare at it as well. I always wondered what he imagined and why. I could never come up with an answer and I probably never will. I notice the doctor is observing me, and she’s about to break me out of this memory.
“What are you thinking about, Sarah?”
I shake a slight ‘no.’ “I dare you to tell her that you dream of him every single night! I double dare you.” Life’s acting like a teenager now; I glance at the doctor to check if she heard her.
“Sarah, you must allow yourself to feel your emotions— listen to them, embrace them, don’t deny them. Emotions are there for a reason. Some appear at certain key moments of your life and are a direct answer to whatever is currently happening around you. What are you feeling right now?”
“I feel anxious. I want them to find my mom, I want to know what to do with my life from now on. I just want to know —I sigh loudly, the very thought of never seeing my mother again makes me think about my ‘checkout’ plan— so many things. Not knowing them is eating me from the inside.”
“Whatever happened to ‘I don’t need a shrink,’ you fucking traitor?”Life’s angry. She’s right, I’m a mess, but can’t let her see that I will ignore her for now.
“You have to embrace that feeling. Not knowing is part of everyone’s life. The fear of not knowing is directly fed by traumatizing experiences. To prevent that or at least to mitigate its effects, you must ask yourself if you can accept that uncertainty for now.”
“Maybe…” But how do I control that? Should I ask her this? I think not.
“This takes time, Sarah. Step by step. You need to learn to stand before you can walk, and after walking for a while you might try running. You need to understand that you’re back to square one when it comes to living in society. That will take time, no doubt. But we have time, right? Yes, we do. Who’s rushing us?” She smiles and looks at me, waiting for an answer. Somehow, she thinks this is soothing and relaxing when actually, I want to bury her head in the ground.
???
Dr. Gonzales visits me at home almost every day. Some days I hate her and others I like her a tiny bit more. She keeps trying to convince me to accept my feelings and insists on talking about them. I, on the other hand, am trying to bury them. I fight them every single day. I’m never going to tell her about the dark ones; she’d freak out, for sure.
She encourages me to go for walks outside the house. I always try to look lazy and tired when I’m actually scared shitless of going outside. She insists that it’s safe and points out that I have bodyguards. I’m still afraid to go out with or without my security goons. Until one morning I wake up feeling brave and, without giving it much thought, I dash outside to take a walk. The idea of it all is to feel free to make my own choices. I’m here because I want to and not because someone insisted. It feels good to walk among people who don’t know me or care about me. They keep walking and so do I. Being able to walk without thinking about anything feels like freedom.
The Dr. doesn’t know about Bruno’s letter; I still don’t want her to see it, much less read it. Telling her about him contacting me afterward is not something I want to do. Bruno might have been breaking the law by doing just that.
Wait,am I looking out for him now?
I’m definitely not telling her that I sometimes see him when I’m walking on the street, or like the other day when I was shopping. I could swear I saw him in the same aisle I was at the grocery store. I tried to follow him with caution. The adrenaline was pumping and making it impossible to remain calm. I lost track of him and searched the entire store twice, only to see him exit the building without even looking back. I never knew if that person was him or just a very similar-looking guy whom my mind used to play tricks on me. So, I won’t tell her for now.
It’s Saturday morning. I’m in bed. This is something I’m not used to yet. The soft sheets hug me, the bed is my friend, my lover. I don’t want to leave her, I’m really comfy here. While still in bed, I like to play with my new smartphone. I only bought it because the Dr. said I should, and that I also needed to possess something that everybody else has. With it I browse the internet and look at the news. I’m obviously focused on terrorist attacks, I’ve read a lot about them. I feel like I must keep myself informed. I also see a lot of shenanigans— cat videos are still ruling the internet and people are still complaining about absurd stuff. I might have been part of the latter group in the past, now that I look at it from afar.
I hear a knock. The first thing that comes to mind is that it must be Dr. Gonzales, arriving early… yet again. But since today is Saturday, that’s not possible— we don’t have sessions on weekends. I put my slippers on and walk towards the door. I peek through the peephole and see something that makes my stomach twist and alter my breathing. I’m now gasping for air. That something is actually someone…
My mom.
My mom is there…
My mom is there on the other side…
My mom is here?
