The Concert

Part 31

"Sang. It's Dr. Green. It's Sean. I need you to sit up for me sweetheart."

Dr. Green? It takes a moment to register. The boys, Kota's house, sleepover, nightmare, they know, they know. They are going to tell and I will actually be dead this time. It won't be an empty threat any longer.

The speed of my breathing increases.

I shoot up, curling into a ball. "please. don't. tell." I gasp in a small voice.

"Tell what?" Dr. Green responds. My mouth fills with the metallic taste of blood as I bite my lip. I shake my head. I doubt they saw it.

My entire body is trembling.

"Sang. Take a deep breath in for me." I try, but I can't manage more than a shaky gasp.

"In... and out..." he leads.

I'm not sure how long it has been, but it must have been awhile because there is motion in the living room.

"That's a girl. Can you open your eyes for me?" I do and realize with horror that there are tears slipping down my face. I scrub them away quickly, hoping no one noticed.

I notice with a start the Kota isn't in the room, just me, Dr. Green, and Mr. Blackbourne.

Of all people to break down in front of...

I take a long shuddering breath and make eye contact with Dr. Green. He is looking at me with something akin to pity, but not exactly. Mr. Blackbourne's mask is indecipherable.

I steel myself for the inevitable barrage of questioning, but it never comes. I look up in confusion, only to see the two of them having a conversation with the smallest of facial tics.

Dr. Green approaches me, stethoscope around his neck, keeping his hands in plain sight. He must have come straight from work, he was still wearing scrubs and had a subtle sterile smell about him.

He presses the stethoscope to my back, not acknowledging me flinch, and instructs me to take a deep breath in.

"Fast heart rate, not surprising," he mutters under his breath.

"Miss Sorenson," Mr. Blackbourne begins, then stops, looking at Dr. Green, who takes over.

"Do you have a change of clothes?" I shake my head, not trusting my voice yet.

"I will be right back then," replies Mr. Blackbourne.

...

I sip on the hot chocolate and nibble of the toast and eggs that they had ordered for me.

"Do you have anxiety attacks often?" asks Dr. Green. I shrug, not offering a further response.

"Do you have them more than once a week?" Mr. Blackbourne asks for clarification. I nod.

And this is how the conversation goes. Them asking questions, me responding non-verbally.

Then what I was dreading came up.

"How is it being at home without your father?"

I almost choke on the bite of toast I'm chewing.

"It's an improvement."

It was my first verbal answer. I almost wish I didn't.

"Any problems with your mother?"

"No." My lie is shaky at best, and unfortunately they both catch it.

"What happened?" They ask simultaneously. Any other situation and it would have been funny.

"Nu-nothing," my voice shakes so bad that I can't begin to cover it up and I have had years of experience.

Mr. Blackbourne raises one perfect eyebrow of his and my feeble attempt of a charade fully shatters.

"It is really no worse than usual, I mean it could be worse and..." I ramble.

Dr. Green throws a wad of money on the table and stands, "Come on, let's go out to the car.

The walk is far too short.

I climb into the backseat and Dr. Green joins me.

I stare at where the seat belt connects to the wall.

"Does your mom hit you?" Dr. Green asks bluntly. I don't respond immediately. I don't want to respond at all.

Keeping my mouth shut is rule one.

A light touch on my chin directs my attention like Kota did I the kitchen this morning.

"Not exactly."

"What does she do?"

"A multitude of things." I 'm deflecting, and everyone in the car knows it.

"Does she treat you like your father did?"

"No."

"Miss Sorenson," a voice comes from the front seat, "Are you in danger there?"

I bite my lip.

My gaze returns to the seat belt,

"Very well," Mr. Blackbourne puts the car in drive.

...

"Umm, you passed the exit."

"I'm aware."

I fall silent again.

...

We pull up to a set of condos. I glance at Dr. Green, a question burning within me.

"My home."

"Why?"

"You can't stay somewhere you are in danger."

"But I never said..."

"We know."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck, "Welcome to my humble abode."