" That's not fair and you know it," He gritted, " You're not the only one who blames themselves for his death."
" He's dead because of me, Exodus!" I yelled before I could even stop myself, " It should've been me laying in the fucking casket, not...
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
Now playing... After Hours, by Avenoir ... MONTREAL, CANADA
"GOOD AFTERNOON, SELAH," Ms. Tanya's voice reverberated through the room, pulling me from the ethereal haze of my thoughts. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting gentle patterns on the worn hardwood floor beneath my feet. "How are you feeling today?"
"Um, I'm okay," I murmured, the remnants of sleep clinging to my voice like dewdrops on morning grass. With a passive stretch, I reached for my mug, its warmth seeping through my fingers as I brought it to my lips. "I just woke up a few minutes ago and I thought I would give you a call."
"A few minutes ago? Did you decide to sleep in this morning?" Her tone carried a hint of curiosity, and in my mind's eye, I could envision her amidst the cozy clutter of her office, the aroma of green tea swirling around her like a comforting embrace. Stuffed animals peered down from their perches, and a kaleidoscope of coloring books spilled across her desk.
I glanced down at the rumpled covers, absently smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in the plush fabric. "I was exhausted last night, and I can't remember what happened either."
It wasn't uncommon for me to experience memory lapses, especially during times of heightened anxiety or overwhelming stress. Throughout the night, I found myself jolting awake at irregular intervals, the faint murmur of voices echoing through the recesses of my mind. Yet, instead of investigating, I succumbed to the lull of sleep once more. I could have been imagining such things, and there was no point in entertaining any obscure thoughts that corrupted my brain.
"Mhmm, Have you been taking your medicine on time?"
I nodded, idly scratching the edge of the satin bonnet that had cradled my head. "I took my medicine last night, around seven or eight o'clock. But before we came to Montreal, I was in such a rush to hit the road that I completely forgot."
" What do you remember from last night? anything in particular, like the clothes you wore or what kind of day it was yesterday?"She asks, and I can envision her head tilting to the side curiously while her finger taps against her notepad.
I bit the inside of my cheek, concentrating on the bits of pieces of my memory of what happened last night. " I.. I remember a little bit, but not enough."
it was like gaping holes in my memory; just black holes that seemed to swallow even the littlest things that I did remember. The way my body didn't feel like my own, the way my tears burned my eyes; everything was real. I knew that, my body knew that. but it was like my mind couldn't accept any of it.
"It's perfectly natural; our minds have a way of safeguarding us by shutting down in moments of distress. It's a survival mechanism, activating our fight-or-flight response. Perhaps yesterday, your mind instinctively went into protective mode." Ms. Tanya explained.
