Broken

Back Where I Started

Chapter One

Back Where I Started

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“You’re not going to put me back on the counselling program, are you?”

Awkward silence.

I looked down at my hands, not knowing what else to do.  I felt fragile, vulnerable in my own skin.  My legs felt like jelly and my hands shook with a mixture of fear and anxiety.  I already knew the answer to the question (wasn’t it obvious?), but I needed to hear it from Dr Whinley herself.

“Well,” Dr Whinley shifted her position and looked me in the eyes. “I’ve been looking at your records and...” she scrolled down and scrunched her eyes up at something on the screen. “...they’ve been looking pretty good.  You’ve made some improvements, which is good, and it appears that you haven’t had the dream, or any other visions for that matter, in the last two months.”  Dr Whinley looked up from her laptop and beamed at me. “This is great Charlie, absolutely wonderful!”

“Yeah, just great,” I muttered under my breath.

“With this in mind, I think it would be a very wise choice to put you back on the counselling program just for a few more months.  At this rate, you’ll be out of here by the end of the year!  Wouldn’t that be nice if you could go home for Christmas?”  Dr Whinley said, pleased.

I felt as if my heart had sunk to my toes.  Dr Whinley was so happy for me, it made me feel bad that I wasn’t feeling her excitement.  I started to squirm in my seat, uncomfortable.  I didn’t know how much longer I could go along with this act.

“Well, looking at this, Dr Violet is available next week on Thursday.”  Dr Whinley scanned her laptop, adjusting her glasses. “She has two time slots available, one at ten in the morning and the other at four thirty.  Which one would suit you better?”

“I guess I’ll take the morning slot.”  Better to get it over and done with, I thought.

“Great, I’ll just transfer your records over and you’re all set.”  Dr Whinley looked up from her screen and clasped her hands together. “I’m really proud of you Charlie.  Finally, you’re on the road to recovery.”  She smiled and her eyes twinkled with a kind of happiness I’d never seen before.

I had the sudden feeling that I was going to be sick.  My stomach churned violently and my cheeks flushed a bright shade of red.  I quickly scraped my chair back and grabbed my backpack.  Dr Whinley looked up startled, her glasses accidently slipping off her nose.  “Charlie, dear are you okay?  My God, you are looking pale!”

“I’m fine,” I quickly put in, before she could ask anymore. “Thanks so much, Dr Whinley.  See you on Friday.”  I rushed for the door, giving the doctor a little wave.

“Bye, Charlie!” I heard Dr Whinley call faintly as I closed the door shut behind me.

                                                                                        *  *  *

I didn’t feel in the mood to go back to my room after my session with Dr Whinley.  I was feeling horribly sick and feverish but I didn’t want to go back to the hospital and have all the nurses fret over me.  Instead I went to the girl’s bathroom, the only place in the whole world where people wouldn’t bother me.  As I walked down the corridor, my phone emitted a muffled beep from inside the folds of my backpack.  Sighing, I flung my bag off my back and searched for my phone.  Finally I found it tangled up in my iPod headphones.  “Who wants me?”  I muttered to myself, sliding my phone open.  The flashing mail sign indicated I had one new message.

Ashley

21-Feb-2011  10:14am

 Hey, how’d it go? Cum c me when ur session finishes.

Ash xox

I slid my phone shut and tucked it into the pockets of my jeans.  What was I supposed to say?  Oh, hi Ash. Yeah it went great, just great.  I’m back on the counselling program but that’s not that bad is it? I’ll come see you once I’ve gone to the toilets and had a spew.  Charlie xox.  Yep, he would totally appreciate that.  It was easier just to ignore it and pretend I’d never even received anything.

The toilets were empty when I opened the heavy wooden door and slid inside.  I immediately shut myself in one of the cubicles and opened up the toilet lid.  But the horrible sick feeling I’d had moments before had disappeared.  All I felt now was a strange emptiness.  I closed the lid and slowly slid down onto the floor.  A single tear rolled down my cheek and dropped onto the tiles with a loud plop.  More and more tears spilled out as I quietly began to sob.  I buried my face in my hands and slowly rocked backwards and forwards.  Here I was, losing it again.  Why was I so fragile?  Why couldn’t I deal with things properly?  Why was I so weak?  I mentally slapped and hit myself for being so insecure.  That stopped the tears.  Now all I felt was anger.  Pure anger and frustration.  I wiped the tears from my eyes and took a deep breath.  This was exactly what Dr Whinley and all the other nurses had been trying to help me control.  I stood up quickly.  This was pointless.  What was crying on the floor in the toilets going to do?  I unlocked the toilet door and looked at myself in the mirror.  I was a complete mess.  My eyes were swollen and red, my nose was irritated and my hair had fallen out of its loose pony tail.  I grabbed a tissue, wiped my eyes, blew my nose and quickly tied my hair up out of the way.  “There,” I said to my reflection “at least you look a bit more respectable.”  I smiled half heartedly before tucking the tissue into my pocket and shoving the bathroom door open.