Evelyn's Lesson In Recovery

Transfer?

I wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. I hold my hand over my heart and look at the clock. It's two in the morning. I cry quietly, terrified. I grab my phone and frantically dial Harper's number. I put it on speaker phone and hold the phone, shaking as I try to stop crying. "Hello?" Harper says, sounding half asleep. "I-I had a n-nightmare!" I cry. "Evie, you're okay. It was just a dream. Calm down. You are okay." She says. "I-I'm scared!!" I cry. "Take a deep breath. You know that you were dreaming. You are in the here and now. Nothing bad is going to happen. You are safe and secure." She reassures me.

I cry quietly. "Honey?" Harper says. "Yeah?" I quietly ask. "It's two in the morning. Are you okay with me going back to bed?" she asks. "Pl-please don't." I cry. "Okay." She says. "Tell me what you dreamed." She says. "I was a ten year old again and I relived the day my mom choked me until I passed out and was removed from that house and put in foster care!" I cry. "I'm sorry, Evie. You're okay." She says. I can't breathe! I begin to feel like I'm being choked. I hide my face in the pillow and fight back tears.

"Evelyn?" Harper says. "Y-yeah?" I choke out. "Do you think you could go back to sleep?" she asks me. "No." I say. "Honey, relax and try to go back to sleep." She says. "I can't!! I'll just have another nightmare...like I'm being r-raped or m-molested." I tell her, shaking and struggling to breathe. "What will make you feel safe?" she asks. "Covering myself with blankets so I feel hidden." I say. "Then do that, Evie. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She says. I hang up and hide under the blankets, still crying and struggling to calm down. How could Harper just abandon me like that?! I shake that thought away. It's two in the morning...and I woke her up. She needs to sleep...just like I do.

I curl into a ball and hug the pillow to my chest. It'll be okay...everything will be okay. The anxiety will pass. It was just a bad dream. Bad dreams don't last forever. They will go away. I am struggling to believe that. I need to escape...I have to make this stop. I go to the bathroom and look in the medicine cabinet until I find sleeping pills. I take two and go lay back down, hoping this will calm me down and make me sleep.

I cover myself with thick blankets and close my eyes. I start to go back to sleep and am startled awake by another nightmare...panic attack thing. I check the time and it's six in the morning. I don't even remember sleeping that long. What in the world?! I get out of bed and go to the kitchen, deciding to cook Suzanne and Mark breakfast...as a surprise. I get the eggs and bacon out of the fridge and put them in a greased pan before mixing pancake batter. I hum quietly as I sing, trying to get the fear to leave.

I drop pancake batter into a hot pan and flip the eggs and bacon. After everything is finished, I put it on plates and add syrup and butter in an aesthetically pleasing pattern. I cut up fruit and berries for a fruit salad. Suzanne appears in the doorway. "Did you wake up early to make us breakfast?" she asks, sounding touched. "You could say that." I say with a small smile and I put the fruit salad in bowls. I pour juice and tell Suzanne to eat while I go get ready. She wakes up Mark and I go to my room. I look in the closet, unsure of what to wear.

I get a pair of light jeans and put them on before grabbing a white top and black cardigan. I look in the full length mirror, frowning at my reflection. My hair is frizzy and messy from sleep and my eyes are puffy and red. I plug my flat iron up and start to straighten my long, copper colored curls. Once I finish that, I look in the mirror again. My hair almost reaches my waist when it's straight. I never thought it was this long. It's really pretty. I smile and go to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and wash my face with cold water and a pomegranate face wash. The swelling and redness seems less noticeable, so I start to carefully do my makeup, deciding, just to keep myself busy, to do full make up. I look in the mirror after I do that and, after touching up my eye liner, I decide I'm ready to go; which is good because I only have ten minutes left before I need to leave.

I go to Starbucks and get Harper a hazelnut mocha. I order a french vanilla, caramel cappuccino with double shot. I take our hot drinks and drive to the center. I take the files we need and go to Harper's office. "Hey." I say, handing her her coffee. "Oh, thank you!" she exclaims, seeming surprised. "I was getting coffee...so I thought you'd want one too." I say. She smiles and takes a sip before setting it aside and taking the files from me.

"Are you alright?" she asks. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I ask. "Because you woke me up at two in the morning because you had a nightmare." She says. I laugh and say "that was nothing, Harper...just a nightmare. I just went back to sleep." "How convincing do you think that was?" Harper asks. I laugh, knowing she would see right through that. "I know it wasn't convincing, Harper. I'm just trying to keep you from worrying." I say. "I already am worried." She tells me. "Why?" I ask. "Because you're clearly slipping and falling into the grasps of these...demons." She explains. "I'll be okay." I lie, reading a file. She holds up my file.

"I'm glad I have files sorted by dates..." she says. I realize I have therapy this afternoon and I groan. She opens my file and lays it in front of me. "How does this information look to you?" she asks. I look at the things written down. It really doesn't look good. I realize I'm one of the more complicated cases Harper has. I bite my lip. "Harper, I'm sorry...I'm trying..." I say. "I know you are. I'm proud of your effort, but you need to recognize that things are getting worse for you. I think you need to go back on medication and start seeing someone specializing in adult post-traumatic stress disorder because, if you look at it, that is the root of all your problems." Harper says.

"No." I say. "Are you arguing with me?" she playfully asks. "Maybe?" I say questioningly. "Just give it a chance, Evie." She says. "No." I refuse, making sure not to raise my voice with her. "Evelyn, you will do what I say because I know what is best for you!" she exclaims. I give in, even though my anxiety is really high. "I'll make the appointment, all you have to do is go. I'll explain your past to the person you're being transferred to, so you won't have to. Alright?" she says, clearly trying to make things easy on me. I quietly nod.

A/N:  I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I REALLY HATE HARPER IN THIS CHAPTER!!!  WHAT DO YOU ALL THINK OF HARPER TRANSFERRING EVELYN?!!