Hearing Anna

ii.ix

DR. CARRAWAY THINKS I'M being irrational about elliot. i can tell from the look on her face as i relay the feelings i've had to her. figures. i've dodged the prospect of too much time with him all week up until today, just so i could sort it out in this damned room. frankly, part of me has continued to wish that this could have come sooner because every time he has tried to talk to me - heck, every time i've simply seen him - my stomach ties up in knots and i have to find a safe place to pass out.

after i finish explaining to her those emotions that boil in my stomach, an unsettling quiet fills the office. i twist at my fingers, trying to keep myself at bay. she stares at me through her cat-eye glasses for a while.

"you haven't been taking your medication."

it startles me. "w-what?"

she cocks an eyebrow at me. "you know what i said."

too late to lie anymore. my head hangs low, and i rest my chin in my hands.

"you have to give it a chance, anna. your anxiety is beginning to control you and keep you from things you want to do and experience."

i cross my arms over my chest, not only because it's cold in here, but also to build up my intimidation. "what if i don't want to put myself in danger of being raped again?"

she doesn't stand down. "those are the sort of thoughts that hold you back. just last week you seemed happy to be going on a date with him."

"you're the one who told me to be careful."

"i apologise, i meant that in the sense that you needed to keep your emotions in check. my point is, your frets are needless and likely caused by your lack of medication." after a pause, she continues. "do you truly believe that this friend of yours is a danger unto you?"

"no, but -" i stop myself. the air around me feels like it's dropped twenty degrees.

"but?"

i refuse to hide my eyes behind my palms, refuse to become more of a coward than i already am. i deny my tears the right to escape from the jail with bars made of my eyelashes.

through gritted teeth, i finally speak, daring enough to keep my eyes on dr. carraway. "but i don't know."

too many thoughts swirling in one place, too many cars passing by, but i can't see into their tinted windows. they're too confusing, too muddled.

she doesn't ask what i don't know, doesn't bother in pursuing that thought further. "anna, can you promise me that you'll start taking your zoloft?"

i can't keep myself from sending a glare her way.

she straightens her glasses.

it quickly becomes a battle of outlasting.

the ghost of elliot's warm palm on mine from that ride on the bus brings me back to that moment. he just wants me to be okay.

but is medication the answer?

i know what he would say, and despite my greying thoughts, i care about what he might think.

"fine."

i swing my bag strap over my shoulder, then storm out.