A Finished Puzzle (Sequel to 'My Missing Piece')

Coming Clean

I woke up to someone poking me. I just shrugged it off and rolled onto my side. "Michael wake up. There's breakfast," a female voice said. I suddenly didn't know where I was and knowing that that wasn't Gavin speaking made me jolt awake. I heard something hit the floor and I looked in the direction. Tracey was laying on the floor, rubbing her head. I pushed myself out of the hard bed and stretched my arms out toward her. Tracey gladly took them as I pulled her to her feet and let go. "Sorry," I muttered out. She shrugged, "It's alright. But there's food waiting for us if you want to go." I let her drag me to the large mess hall they had here and we sat down. Food trays were placed in front of us. It looked fine, but I wanted to gag at the sight of it. I pushed the tray away from me and leaned back in the plastic chair. "Are you gonna eat that?" Tracey asked, pointing a fork at my tray. I pushed it over to her and watched her devour it. I crossed my arms and looked up. How was I going to get through two months of this?

Tracey took me to the recreational room saying that had games. I soon frowned when I realize it was only cards or board games. "I think I'll just go in my room and change," I said. Tracey shrugged as I left. I counted my steps on the way back to my room. I picked through the clothes I had. Somehow they were only a white shirt and white stretchy pants. I groaned and changed into them before sneaking into the bathroom. I turned on the faucet and splashed water onto my face. I did that a couple of times before drying my face. There was a mirror above the sink. It was a bit cloudy, but I could see my reflection. I could see myself getting thinner even though I hadn't been here for longer than a night. I missed work, as much of a hassle it was. I missed my bed. I missed my food. I missed my car. I missed my husband.

I was on the bed again now, staring at the wall. There was a knock on the door of the room and I glanced over. Miss E walked in carrying something in her arms. I sat up and watched her. Miss E motioned to the foot of my bed, as if to ask if she could sit there. I crossed my legs and nodded. She sat down slowly and handed me a brown, leather backed book. I eyed her before looking at it and flipping it open. The pages were lined, but blank. "It's a journal. We give one to all of our new patients. Write an entry every day before you fall asleep," she explained. "You treat us like children here," my words came out more harsh than I planned. "We don't know your backgrounds, dear. Anyways, we have a therapist coming in an hour or so to speak with you," Miss E placed her hands in her lap and smiled. I stared at her, not knowing how to answer that. "Are you getting along with Tracey well? You two had similar interests so I thought she would make a nice guide," she added. "She's nice, yeah," I said. "Well. I'll send her in the come get you when Ms. Ellis arrives," she stood up and headed for the door.

It felt way longer than an hour later when Tracey knocked on my door and dragged me out of bed. "Ms. Ellis really isn't mean. She listens, like really listens," Tracey said when we reached a door to a room I'd never seen before. I didn't say anything back to her as I stepped inside the room. I almost gagged at the sight before me. Every piece of furniture was bright, bold colors looking rather odd against the white paint on the walls and ceiling and the white titles on the floor. The only chairs in the room were plastic or beanbags and I suddenly wondered if Gavin sent me to a child's hospital by accident. There was a older looking woman, probably in her late fifties and looked a bit like Miss E, sitting in one of the plastic chairs. She had a notebook in one hand and a pen in the other. Must be Ms. Ellis. She motioned for me to sit down in the beanbag in front of her. I stepped over to it and fell back into the beanbag before making myself more comfortable. "So you must be Michael," she said.

"Tell me dear. How do you feel about you husband?" She asked, crossing her left leg over the other, "And be honest." I crossed my arms, "Well I love him and I think he just wants to best for me sometimes. He's not very good at talking about himself and tends to pry things out of other people. But he's good... He's kind hearted and I love him even if he pisses me off sometimes." Ms. Ellis finished writing down in her notebook and looked up at me, "Good, good. Now how about your father?" I internally groaned at the mention of him, but spoke anyways. "He had a lot issues and I think he didn't know how to handle them so he drank. Took it out on my mom and I. He meant no harm, just didn't know how to function right," I said, completely telling the truth. No use in lying about any of this, right? "Now do you think that maybe experiencing what you did with him had forced all this extra stress on you? That maybe you blame yourself for his actions and that's what leads you to do these things to yourself?" Ms. Ellis tapped her pen against the pages. I felt trapped now, like I was being interrogated in a police station. "Yes," I almost whispered. It felt odd to admit it, almost like it was helping me.

"Do you really believe that now, years later, it was your fault for your dad's actions, Michael?" Ms. Ellis stared at me. I felt claustrophobic now. I nodded slowly. "It wasn't your fault. You were a child. I worked with your father, you know," she smiled slightly. "You what?" I choked out. I felt like I was struggling to catch my breath now. "He would talk about how proud he was of you and how terrible he felt that he couldn't fix himself," she continued, "Now tell me. What do you think about yourself?" I tugged at my shirt collar," I don't think... I don't do anything right. I don't know how Gavin still wants to be married to me. I'm depressing and pathetic. It's all my fault." I had to think that the must be poisoning the air here to make you talk because I'd never say any of this before. Ms. Ellis scribbled into her notebook before standing, "I think we're done here." I gave her a questioning look while standing up as well. "I'll let Miss E know that you don't need the full two months in here," she said and walked out. I could feel a panic attack coming along as Tracey came into the room. "Let's get you back in your room," Tracey said.