Perfect Pet

Ch. 34: Dreaming of Reality

It reminded me of the dream I'd had of Malik.

"Is this real?" I questioned, grabbing a wrapped candy and rolling it around the scarred wood of the table, watching it get caught in one of the grooves and tumble over. "Or am I dreaming?"

"Somewhere in the middle, I think," A familiar voice said from the receptionist desk and when I swiveled my head in that direction, surprised, I was met with Benjii's grinning face. "You're easiest to reach in that in-between place." Shifting his head as if taking in the view, he remarked, "Interesting choice you made."

"What do you mean?" I asked, getting up to move closer. This whole situation was bizarre but seeing a familiar face helped. Benjii always showed up at the strangest times anyway. At least I didn't want to panic yet. "I didn't make any choice. And where are we? And why are you here?"

"As I said, we're somewhere in-between stages. It's hard to explain but you're more receptive to the... intrusion this way. Your subconscious decided on this to manifest it as." With his head tilted, I didn't like how somber his expression was. "You spent a lot of time here, huh?"

"Yeah." Once a week for almost two and a half years.

I wasn't ashamed of needing outside help. At the time I'd been in an awful place and Mom's solution had been to slip me pills on the sly because God forbid her friends found out her kids were anything but perfect. Going to a therapist had been out of the question because what if someone saw? What if they said something? It hadn't mattered that the waters in my head were slowly rising to drown me and that I was too numb to care. As long as dear old Mom wasn't embarrassed, things were fine.

I'd almost completely given up, let go of what thin string was left tying me down when River stepped in and had me start flushing the pills. My head started clearing enough to know something wasn't right. That medicated or not, I shouldn't be feeling that way. Mom was so busy with herself that she never noticed we disappeared for a few hours every Thursday when River took me to my appointments in a different part of town. Unless she wanted something, she hardly acknowledged us at all, honestly.

It was like a door had been unlocked as I got to experience everything the medication had blocked me from feeling whenever I walked into that office. My therapist had helped guide me through the pain, the loneliness, the sense of abandonment that permeated every fiber of my being. Dad hadn't chosen to die, hadn't chosen to leave me at the whim of my mother but the fact was that I was still alone. River tried to protect me but he didn't have the power Dad had or the authority.

It had taken a long time to work through my issues and despite knowing that it wasn't my fault, a small part of me couldn't help being reminded of how broken I was when I was in that room, especially since that's what Mom had screamed at me when she eventually found out. I'd never seen her so mad and it was still our worst fight to date, my hand unconsciously reaching up to touch my cheek, feeling the phantom sting of her palm against my cheek. It had been stupid to think we could get away with it forever but two years had been a pretty good run. Long enough that I was mostly back to who I was before he died. Recovering completely wasn't an option since pieces of me went with him.

Wherever that was.

"You didn't answer my question," I pointed out, forcing the memories away. I didn't like recalling how vulnerable I was. "What are you doing here? Is it really you?" Reaching over, I poked his arm, perceiving hard muscle under the light sweater he wore. Too real to be just a dream.