Prologue

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** One Year Ago **

Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.

** One Year Ago **

Taking a seat upon Dr De-Luca's worn Chesterfield leather sofa. Rayne's attention was drawn to rhythmic clicks of the old wooden metronome situated upon his sturdy mahogany table; unable to express the comfort she found in its repetitive motions. She counted silently.

One... two... three—

"Rayne," Dr De-Luca interjected. Speaking out as if by accident, spilling out of his drawn lips. Her eyes lost focus, becoming rounder, glossier. They told him to wait.

His baritone voice broke her sequence. Wincing, unable to respond. The cycle must be completed. He would understand her need, her compulsion... Six. The one true number; the number of peace. The number by which her life was measured.

Six was the only number that was both the sum and the product of three consecutive positive numbers. Unrelated to six being the perfect number. A Golomb ruler of length 6 was the 'perfect ruler.' And one thing that Rayne prided herself on was perfection.

—Four... five... six.  She exhaled. Done!  "Yes, Dr De-Luca?"

"Now as you're aware Rayne, we have been engaging in our sessions for almost eighteen months now."

Eighteen months... How time had flown. "Yes, Dr De-Luca and I've been very happy. Are you pleased Dr De-Luca?" Her compelling drive to please others was never far from Rayne's considerations.

He continued. "Yes, Rayne. I'm very happy." The flush to her cheeks was noticeable.

Rayne sighed into his praise. To obtain approval was truly one of the greatest gifts one could receive from another person.

"We have made some excellent progress. I'm very proud of the work we've done together. How do you feel Rayne?"

For those unfamiliar with Rayne Winters, they wouldn't notice the tension in her shoulders or the tapping of her thumb against her fingers. "Talk to me Rayne, you know this is a safe space."

She blinked as a singly tear slipped down her cheek, swiping it away. "I tried... as we discussed, to go to the main cafeteria to acquire Mr Jenkins his special coffee. The ones he adores and only has on special occasions. I wanted to do this for him... as a surprise." A hard lump formed in her throat.

"Do we need to stop and do some breathing Rayne?"

She looked at him, frustrated with her inherent weaknesses. "No, I'm fine."

"What happened Rayne?"

Her stomach twisted in knots. It was silly that such a small thing could cause some much dread. "There were food spillages on the tables; on the floor!" her words were rushed, shrill.

"Okay, so what did you do?"

Her resolution to utilise her coping strategies had failed. She sighed, fixing her eyes on the material of the skirt she wore. "I returned to my office without completing the task you set me." Disappointment weighed heavy like baggage, and she was tired of the baggage she carried daily.

"I thought I would have been better by now," she whispered, unsure if he'd heard.

Silence.

In her peripheral vision the metronome tapped into her thoughts. One... two... three... four... five... six.  Slowly she raised her gaze, presuming frustration to be waiting. To her surprise, he showed no obvious signs of frustration or disappointment.

"Rayne. It's amazing you removed yourself from your comfort zone and walked into the main cafeteria. Be mindful Rayne, this is an exposure response, and that's very good Rayne, we can work with that. This pleases me no end. We take victory in the smaller successes and work from there."

"But—"

"—But nothing Rayne."

Rayne nodded in agreement. Dr De-Luca had been a blessing and was the sixth doctor she had engaged. She felt safe with him. An older gentleman, with a kind face and steaks of silver threaded through his dark hark. His movements were always unhurried, choreographed and deliberate. And his warming smile was only ever removed when he needed to be serious... like now.

Eyebrows furrowing, he crossed his right leg over his left leg as he tapped his pen six times. "I know we discussed at the start of our journey we wouldn't go back and discuss your childhood, but for us to move forward." He sensed her change, stiffening, fight-or-flight lit up her pretty grey eyes. "I would like to use the next few sessions to look at some pivotal moments, for example, between the ages of six to sixteen. And look at your family dynamics in a little more detail." Your mother.

Rayne shifted in her seat as she counted out six on her fingers. She didn't like to think back to her childhood. It would not do good to dwell on such things. He should know that; he had told her so. Biting hard on her bottom lip, the speed of her counting increased. Why did he need to know more? Surely, they were getting somewhere.

"Stay with me Rayne," he issued a caution.

But she had already slipped as she recounted her all to brief existence.

It was the sixth day of the sixth month. Rayne Winters was born on a day the heavens saw fit to rain down like never seen, bringing with it great mudslides. It was also the day her life had almost ended before her first breath. She was the youngest child of the Winter family and rather than a blessing, her existence was cursed daily by a mother unable to show her daughter love or warmth of any sort. Rayne recalled from her earliest memories being told she should never have been born; she was a mistake, an abomination.

In fact, it was on the day of Rayne's sixth birthday, her entire world changed.

Dr De-Luca witnessed many emotions pass across his young patient's face. Since commencing therapy, he had worked determinedly plotting strategies to aid control and lesson her compulsive behaviours. He was proud of her accomplishments. In fact, if he was honest, he had grown rather fond of Rayne Winters. Becoming attached beyond what would be considered the 'norm' for doctor, patient relations.

But now they had reached an impasse, genuinely believing for Rayne to find peace. She would need revisit those demons from her past. He hadn't wanted to do this, but she left him with little alternative.

"What if I command you Rayne, take the choice away?" Knowing this to be a risk, he watched the change come over her. The warring in her eyes disappeared, her posture relaxed. He knew he had made the right decision, she trusted him. "Tell me what happened on your sixth birthday, Rayne."

And she did precisely that, for when Rayne Winters received a command from anyone she sought approval. It was in her nature to submit.

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