Running Scared

Chapter 12:

 I laid down on the black leather chaise lounge and stared at the too white ceiling. My hands were folded over my stomach and I sat there tapping the toes of my feet together. The shrink was talking to Mom outside of her office.

The walls were a simple beige and the ceiling was white. There was a modern-looking black couch and a matching chaise lounge, which I was sitting on or rather laying. There was a desk pushed against a wall near the door and one big window let light flood into the room.

The door opened the fell shut. Dr. Piertson stepped in with a smile on her face. She looked to be about her late twenties. She had short brown hair and dark brown eyes. She had one of those faces that were young but you knew they weren't from the natural wrinkles from smiling or laughing. She flashed me a smile and started walking towards me.

“Hi Jessica, I'm Dr. Piertson! Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand for me to shake. I tentatively grasped it and shook it.

She grabbed a rolling office chair and sat down near me. Laying on the couch was a clipboard with a notebook clipped to it, she grabbed it and crossed her legs. She informed me there were kleenex's next to me but I doubted I would need them. With another smile, she asked me how I was doing.

“I'm good. Tired.”

“Not enough sleep last night?” Her voice was soothing and soft.

“Enough sleep, it was the dreams that got me.”

“Dreams?”

“They are more like memories.”

“And what are these memories?”

“What did my mom tell you?”

“Just the quick overview of the past two years.”

I nodded before continuing. “I'll feel better once I say it outloud,” I said more to myself than her. “Ever since the police found me... I've been having these dreams that are just memories of the time I spent with him. They are never the good times. Not that even the good times were all that good. The good times really only constituted of... I don't the few times I got to watch a movie and he didn't hit me or do other things to me.

“Anyways, I always wake up screaming or crying. Mom had to come wake me up the past couple of nights. My best friend Melanie... she was the one who originally told me I should see you after I woke up screaming and thrashing in my bed. I mean I sleep all night, which is the crazy thing. I read somewhere once that you don't dream until right before you wake up. Which I find odd because sometimes I'll wake up at midnight with my face wet. Am I supposed to wake up at midnight? Is that what was planned? I don't know.

“I'm getting off track again. Okay, but I'll get eight hours of sleep, at least, and then I'll wake up exhausted like I didn't even sleep an hour. The dreams... they're haunting me. James, he is haunting me. I don't have to deal with him anymore but he is still... there. I think that's what's keeping me up. He might as well be there, I'm not better off with him gone. Except that I finally have a chance to heal.”

I took a deep breath and looked at her. I went on a little bit of a rant. She finished her notes and folded her hands in her lap before looking at me. “Interesting. Before we elaborate on your dreams I want you to know something. I usually start off with this but you showed so much trust anyways, I didn't bother. You can tell me anything in here. It won't go to your mother or anyone. The only things that will reach her is if what you tell me might start to jeopardize your life. I just want you to know that this place is completely safe.

“Now, James. You say you feel like he is haunting you.” I nodded. “Why do you think that is?”

I blinked. I didn't know how to respond. I was hoping she would help me figure it out. After all, I had only gained the realization a few moments prior to her question. “I... guess maybe because it was so long that... it's hard to get rid of?”