KENZIE
Have you ever seen or heard something that made you feel sick in the stomach? I'm not talking the usual lump in throat, butterflies in belly type of sick. I mean the type of sick where you can't even bear the thought of eating something because you know the moment it hits your stomach it's going to come back up again. The type of sick that makes you feel so exhausted that the mere idea of having to get out of bed in the morning drains you completely of any energy you still have left.
I've had that feeling multiple times throughout my life but never quite like this. Usually, after a solid panic attack, a lot of crying and a good night's sleep, the feeling would dissipate or at the very least de-escalate to the normal type of anxiety induced nausea. This time around the feeling has only intensified as the days have dragged on, and it has now reached the point where I am beginning to feel like I am never going to feel well again.
The muscles in my abdomen hurt from the constant and often violent dry heaving that has followed the multiple times I have lost the contents of my stomach, and my throat burns in discomfort each time I try to swallow anything. The taste of stomach bile lingers at the back of my tongue like poison, doing nothing to ease the sickly feeling that blankets every cell of my body, and my head aches from the constant tension and stress of it all.
Everything was going fine.
After our meeting with Garrett Brennan, Ben and I had made considerable progress in compiling a list of all the other leads that we could follow to uncover the mystery surrounding Dominic's identity. We have already made contact with his publisher and left a message in the hopes that someone would indulge us in our enquiries, but so far there has been nothing but staunch silence on their part. Because of this, we have also made plans to head back to EMU to see if we can try and track down Scotty or even their basketball coach, however until Nathan or Will go back to work and we have a way to get into the city those plans are momentarily on hold.
The guys had shown me my first real Christmas worth celebrating, and although they tried way too hard to make it special, I couldn't be more thankful for the effort they put in to making me feel like I belonged there with them. At first it had been strange watching them carry out their Christmas traditions, but as the day went on I had gradually become more comfortable with their peculiar celebrations. Don't get me wrong, there were still those few brief moments throughout the day where I felt overwhelmingly sad for no apparent reason, but aside from that I had managed to keep myself relatively anxiety free.
Everyone was relaxed, talks of court proceedings and visitations completely non-existent within the household, and any feelings of pressure or discomfort surrounding those topics had dissipated with the pause. Even the simmering anticipation that comes along with having to visit Dr Miller twice a week had been removed, he having closed his office to enjoy the holiday period.
There was a week and a half, almost two weeks, where I felt like everything was entirely normal.
And then it all came crashing down.
All it took was for one tiny but mind jarring nightmare to sneak its way into my brain while I slept, and now it is as if my whole world has been tilted on its axis. I can't eat, I can't sleep, and with each day that passes without any change it feels like I'm slipping further and further away from the progress that I have worked so hard to achieve.
That's why I opened up to Dr Miller in my last counselling session. I had hoped that by telling him about some of the stuff in my dreams it would take some of the fear away. He had promised me last time that he would start our next session off where it finished before and instead of feeling annoyed or apprehensive about it, the opportunity to drop some of the weight on my chest was too good to refuse.
Dr Miller, as always, had been nothing but patient with me as I stuttered and stumbled over my words, trying to explain the sheer terror of what awaits me when I fall asleep at night. I had thought at the very least my honesty and openness with him about my dreams would provide me some sort of relief from the constant torment.
I didn't count on it making things worse.
Now, instead of feeling liberated by my decision to share some of the burden I have been carrying around in my brain, I can't help but fear that I have made a terrible, horrible mistake. I can hear the monsters' voices in my dreams telling me not to say anything, that they will hurt me worse if I disobeyed and they would know if I did. Their sinister threats cling to every fibre of my being like an oil spill in an estuary and I can't help but feel like I am suffocating beneath the surface.
I need help, and in order to get that help I need to tell someone what is going on. Which brings me to where I am now, standing outside James's bedroom door with Basil clutched tightly in the crook of my elbow, trying to find the courage to go in and face him. I know he has told me a hundred times that I can go to him whenever, day or night, but the prospect of disturbing him especially when he is sleeping has never stopped being daunting to me.
Purposely waking up any of my previous foster carers in the past had never been an option. Well, it was if I wanted to get the shit beaten out of me, but clearly no one in their right mind would be dumb enough to poke a sleeping bear. My instincts and past experience have always stopped me from even considering what I'm about to do, but I know that I am safe here and if anybody is going to help me climb out of the dark hole I'm stuck in without making a huge deal out of it, its James.
Telling myself to stop being a wimp, I draw Basil closer to my chest and push James's door open just a sliver. It's dark inside, which makes me shudder in discomfort, but nonetheless I force myself to open the door even further so that I can slip myself inside. The sounds of his light snores drift through the room as I tip toe my way closer towards the side of his bed until I am close enough to reach out and touch him.
From the limited light in the room I can just make out the shape of his body underneath the thin summer sheets, and after swallowing down a sharp pang of anxiety I finally find the courage to reach out and touch him.
"James?...Are you awake?" I ask, prodding him gently on his fabric covered shoulder with the tips of my fingers. He doesn't stir the first time I try, but after another more urgent prod he shifts on the mattress so that his face is no longer pressed into the side of his pillow, but rather craned over his shoulder in my direction.
"Kenzie?" He asks groggily, raising himself up onto one elbow while swiping his free hand over his face to try and pull himself out of his sleepy state.
"Yeah, it's me. I'm sorry for waking you." I apologise, instantly feeling guilty for drawing him away from his sleep to deal with my problems.
"It's alright angel, what's wrong? Are you feeling alright?" He asks cautiously, reaching over to his bedside table and switching on the lamp.
The room is quickly illuminated by a warm yellow glow which instantly makes me feel a little less frightened. I don't like the dark at the best of times, but the monsters in my nightmares do, and with the reminder that I broke their rules firmly placed in the back of my mind I can't help but fear that they will show up at any moment, ready to make good on their promises of punishment.
"No, not really."
It's not until I say the words out loud that I realise how true they are. I'm not ok. I haven't been ok for a few days now and nothing I have done to try and pull me out of my debilitating mindset has seemed to work. Not the breathing exercises Dr Miller taught me for when I feel like my chest is being crushed with panic, not the extra hours I have spent experimenting in the kitchen trying to channel all my focus into cooking, and not even the almost guaranteed relief of jumping on the trampoline has made a difference.
"Are you sick? Do you want me to get Nathan?" He asks seemingly concerned by my honest answer. The majority of his sleepiness has now left his voice and the worried look in his eyes tells me he is now fully alert.
"Yes, and no. I don't feel well, but I'm not that type of sick." I threw up, yes, but not from a physical illness. If this was something Nathan or Will could help me fix then I would have gone to them, but it's not, and I don't want to burden them with something when I know that they are powerless in providing any assistance. Approaching them with this issue will only cause them unnecessary distress.
"Ok, I see. Do you want to sit down, or go to another room? We can go wherever you feel more comfortable." James offers in understanding, sitting himself up so that he is no longer sprawled out across the bed.
"No, can we stay here?" I don't want to disturb him any more than I need to, and if we move from here there is less chance that he is going to be able to fall back asleep again after this.
"That's ok. We can do that. Come and sit down wherever you like. Make yourself comfortable." He fusses quietly while straightening out the bed sheets as if they weren't entirely creased from being slept in only seconds ago.
Not wanting to remain standing out in the open, I climb myself up onto the end of his bed and cross my legs beneath me so that he doesn't have to move from his spot. A part of me wants to crawl up the mattress and sit beside him, but I push that thought aside knowing that I have already disturbed him from his sleep. I don't need to be disturbing his personal space as well.
"Tell me what's going on sweetie. What's got you feeling so unwell?" He asks gently as I press Basil to my chest and cross my arms tight over his body and around myself. Surely Basil's gaping maw will do the trick in scaring off any unwelcome presences while I talk to James.
"Well I...I saw something in one of my dreams and it was really, really awful and now I can't stop seeing it and I know it seems stupid but it felt so real and I really don't want it to be real. It can't be real, but I just can't tell the difference anymore. Everything I dream about feels real, but at the same time, none of it makes any sense." The jumbled words keep pouring out of my mouth and even though I know that I am rambling, I just really need to get it all out before I get the chance to back out.
James being James just sits there and quietly listens as I dump a weeks worth of my fears and festering thoughts onto him. I don't know how he understands what I am trying to say, but when I am finished rambling on like a lunatic the earnest look of understanding on his face confirms that he understands the garbled mess I just tried to explain.
Much like Dr Miller would, James takes a few moments to decide what to say next. I'm grateful that he does take his time because the small pause gives me the opportunity to catch my breath. I had forgotten to breathe in the small time I was talking, my main focus just getting the words out into the open air between us.
"Do you want to tell me what you saw in your dream, or is it something that you'd prefer to talk to Dr Miller about?" James asks cautiously, not wanting to push me into sharing anything that I'm not ready to.
"No. Dr Miller is great but sometimes he asks too many questions and it always ends up leading towards something unrelated to the topic. I just need to... I just need..."
"You just need to get it off your chest." He finishes for me as I struggle to find the right way to end my sentence. As always, he hits the nail on the head and I reward him with a solemn nod of my head in response.
"Ok then, I get it. So if you're comfortable enough would you like to tell me what you saw in the dream that started all of this?" He tries again, tilting his head slightly as he waits for my response.
Right. The million dollar question that must be driving everyone mental. I can tell that over the last week the others have noticed my decline in health and I am almost certain it is taking everything in Nathan's overprotective maternal brain not to bring it up in front of me. I understand now that they were holding out in the hopes that I would approach them with my problem by myself, but I can appreciate how difficult that must have been for them.
I owe it to them and to myself to be honest with him right now. This problem, the constant exhaustion and now the added nausea on top, is something that I can't handle on my own. At first it had been manageable, but now it is almost impossible for me to control. Even if James can't find a way to help me, at least they will have some sort of explanation behind my sudden illness. This is what I came in here for, I just need to be brave enough to say the words out loud.
"A body." I finally answer, somehow managing to avoid my voice shaking.
Taking a deep breath, I cling onto Basil for dear life as I try to stop that horrible image from resurfacing in my mind again. Seeking all the comfort and strength he can give me, I stick my nose into his fluffy fur and inhale deeply, desperately hoping to find something that will keep my thoughts grounded.
James nods in understanding, knowing full well how disturbing that image could be to someone like me. My fingers cling tighter to the fabric at the sides of my sleep shirt as I brace myself for his next question.
"Did you know the person?" He queries, tilting his head slightly as he waits patiently for my answer.
I nod in return, tears stinging my eyes as a sharp wave of nausea swirls through my body. I would know that person from anywhere. The shape of their face, the style of their hair, the sharp curve of their jawline and even gentle slope of their nose. I had recognized every feature beyond anything in that dream, except for the eyes. Those lifeless, empty eyes that I remember always being filled with light and emotion.
"It's alright sweetie, take a nice deep breath. We don't have to go into any detail." He assures me while attempting to pull me away from the edge of an oncoming panic attack.
That might be all well and good for him to say, but the image is stuck burned into my brain. Every time I close my eyes it's there. Every time I open them again, it's there. There's no escape, and each time I see it the image only grows more grotesque. Maybe if it had been anybody else's body in the dream I wouldn't have been so horribly affected, but for it to be the one person that I am irrevocably emotionally attached to I didn't stand a chance.
Dreams of Dominic are usually a rare gift that I cherish. Even if they aren't real, the love and care he has for me in those brief little images never changes. Maybe it was naïve of me to believe that I would never have a bad dream about him, however there was just no reason for me to expect something so awful. That's why the dream I had of his lifeless eyes staring blankly back at me made me feel like my brain had been torn open.
I know that Dominic is dead. I don't know when, where, how or why it happened, but the fact that he is actually dead has done nothing to placate the sickness I feel each time that dreaded image flashes through my mind. I have no definitive evidence to confirm or reject the legitimacy of that dream, but I do know one thing for certain; seeing him in that dream felt fundamentally wrong.
"That's it Kenzie, nice deep breaths. You're ok darling." James soothes as another pang of nausea pulses through me almost making me gag. My stomach screams in protest and it takes everything in me not to cry out in pain when I clench my abdomen to stop myself from dry reaching.
"Let's try to ground ourselves alright? Can you tell me five things that you can see?"
His words might as well be in another language at this stage. I can hear what he is saying but I just can't grasp the meaning behind them. Instead, I do the only thing that I know worked when I was with Dominic. I scurry my way across the mattress and sit so that the side of my head is pressed firmly against James's chest. It takes a few seconds for me to hear it, but the familiar rhythm of a heartbeat eases the chaos in my brain just enough for me to find some form of focus.
At first I can only manage deep raggedy breaths, but as the time passes and his heartbeat remains steady I find myself beginning to breathe in a calmer, more manageable pattern. James simply strokes his fingers through the top of my hair, continually encouraging me to keep breathing as I cling to him for dear life. Eventually, my breathing returns to normal leaving me utterly exhausted and unable to move.
"Good job Kenzie, you did so well in calming yourself down." James murmurs quietly as his fingers make their way back to the top of my head to administer another gentle run through my hair. That familiar comforting scent that seems to be embedded in most of his clothing wafts up my nose making me snuggle even closer into his chest.
"I don't think I can talk about this anymore." I murmur weakly in return, hating myself for being such a mess. I've barely answered three questions and my entire composure crumbled to the floor.
"That's ok sweetie, I think I understand what's going on now, you don't need to tell me anything else." He reassures me in his soothing voice, as I continue to focus on the comforting sound of his heart as it pulses in his chest. "We can talk about this again later when you are ready."
I don't know if he is being honest when he says that he understands my problem, but I'm not going to challenge him on it. He's a fully trained psychologist who works with kids like me every day, I can only trust that his knowledge and experience make his statement true.
"For now though you need to get some sleep."
"I can't." I shake my head weakly, or as much as I can with it pressed against his chest. Every part of me is screaming out for me to fall asleep, but I can't bring myself to do it. If I fall asleep then the monsters will get me for sure.
"I know it must feel helpless with your nightmares, but there is another way to help you get the sleep you need." He presses, doing his best to convince me to take the other option.
"I can't." I repeat again, this time with far less conviction. I'm just too exhausted to argue with him.
There is a brief moment of silence making me believe that he has given up, but I am quickly proven wrong when he suddenly starts to speak again.
"Please Kenzie. Just this once." He pleads with me, the slightest hint of desperation present in the tone of his voice. "You're going to have to go to sleep at some stage and I can't stand watching you constantly fight with yourself to stay awake."
I mean, he does have a point. I am going to have to fall asleep some time. Eventually my body will give up on me and then I will have no choice but to endure the nightmares anyway. As much as what he is proposing scares the hell out of me, I think I would much rather fall asleep on my own terms.
"If I do it, can I stay here with you?"
"Of course you can. Anything to make you feel safe and comfortable." He responds instantly, tilting his head so that I can see the sincere smile gracing his lips. He knows that I am on the edge of caving in and the sheer look of relief on his face as I consider the pros and cons of his suggestion pushes me in the direction of my decision.
"Ok. I'll do it, but just this once."
"That's all I'm asking." James nods in agreement, his smile widening further than I thought it ever could.
"I'm going to go downstairs and grab you something to drink, you stay here and make yourself comfy, I'll be right back." He states before gently removing me from my resting place against his chest and shifting himself so that he is no longer on the bed. My head flops lazily onto his pillow where I stay curled up as he leaves the room.
About five minutes later James walks back into the room, a glass of something in his right hand and a box of tissues tucked under his arm. Forcing myself into an upright position, I scoot further across the mattress so that James has space to sit back down. The box of tissues is placed down on the bed and I quickly pluck two from the box making quick work of cleaning up my face. Most of my tears had dried out now but it still felt nice to wipe away any remaining evidence of my recent panic attack.
"What's this?" I ask curiously, staring down the cloudy orange liquid that sloshes inside as I take the glass from James's outstretched hand.
"It's a hydralite solution. Basically it's going to help boost your hydration and replace some of the salts and sugar that your body has lost through sweat." He explains as I take a tentative sniff of the substance within the glass. "And I thought it might be a bit nicer for you to have something with a little bit of sugar in it to try and make this seem a bit more palatable." He adds further, holding his other hand out in front of me.
In the centre of his palm is a small white pill, perfectly rounded and relatively unoffensive to the eye, but it's not what the pill looks like that bothers me. It's what the pill has the capability of doing to me that's the real problem.
"I know that you're scared Kenzie. Medications are a serious thing to have to consider under any circumstances, but I promise you I wouldn't give you anything unless it was absolutely necessary." James says, pulling me out of my stare off with the pill in his hand.
"Your body is so sleep deprived that it is starting to compromise your physical health, and if we can't find a way to try and mitigate the effects of your insomnia on your physical health then we are going to have to take you to the hospital." He states solemnly, leaving no room for me to try and talk him out of this.
"I don't want to get stuck." I don't want the monsters to get me again. With that said, I also don't want to end up in hospital either. I have spent enough time in those buildings over the past ten and a half years to last me a lifetime.
"What do mean by that?" He asks gently, picking Basil up from the end of the bed where I had so carelessly dropped him earlier and placing him on my lap with great care.
"The nightmares. I don't want to fall asleep and not be able to wake up if I have another nightmare." I explain simply, as if my answer is the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh angel, that's why you have been so scared of taking the sleeping meds?" He asks, understanding and pity lighting up his eyes as if all the pushback and refusal on my part suddenly makes complete sense.
"Yeah. They're scary James." I respond with a shallow nod. "Sometimes the dreams are so scary that I'm afraid to close my eyes in case the monsters come back to hurt me again."
I know he doesn't know what I am talking about, but his next words give me the comfort and reassurance I desperately need to push myself past the last of my stubborn hesitation.
"I'm going to be right here with you the whole time. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, I promise."
"I trust you." I nod sincerely, proving my own statement by taking the pill from his hand and depositing it in my mouth. The orange drink masks any other flavours, if there had been any in the first place, and with one solid gulp the little white pill has been banished to the confines of my stomach.
I'm not sure how long it is going to take for the effects to start kicking in, but I'm not going to wait until it is too late to get myself tucked into a comfortable position. James gives me some time to get situated before finally climbing back into his side of the bed. In the time it takes him to settle in I finish off the remainder of the hydralyte and place the empty glass on the bedside table beside me.
Basil is tucked into my arms, and although I usually enjoy having my own space, I can't help but find myself crawling back across the mattress closer to the other person occupying the bed. James gives me a quizzical look as I silently creep my way closer, but the moment he understands what I am after his expression morphs into a knowing smile. A gentle pat on the mattress is all the permission I need to tuck myself close to his side and wrap one lazy arm over his torso.
Usually I would be disgusted by the idea of cuddling up to someone, but on this rare occasion I can't find it in me to feel scared. When I held onto James earlier it was out of necessity. This time, I'm snuggling into him out of choice. Everything about James screams safety and I have no doubt in my mind that he will follow through with his promise to protect me while I sleep.
"When you start to feel sleepy, I want you to relax into it. No matter how scary it might be, don't try to fight it." James instructs me after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
"Ok. I think I can do that." I nod, letting out a small yawn as I do. I trust James not to let anything happen to me, and although I am still scared that the nightmares are going to swallow me whole, the constant feeling of overwhelming exhaustion has now won out over my fears.
I'm already feeling super sleepy as it is, and as the minutes continue to drift by I can really start to feel the medication easing its way through my system. There is a small pang of fear still lingering at the back of my mind but I quickly push it away when my nose is flooded by the calming scent of Dominic's cologne.
"You sure like the smell of my shirts, don't you?" He chuckles softy, a hint of amusement clear in his voice. If my eyes were open I am sure I would be able to see him smiling.
"Hmmm. Smells like him." I murmur softly, pressing my face further into the fabric where the scent is strongest.
With each second that passes my limbs grow heavier and heavier, almost to the point where it feels like my body has become one with the mattress. I don't know where it starts and I end, but strangely the sensation only makes me feel more comfortable. My eyes are glued shut, too heavy to stay open but my mind is still drifting somewhere been consciousness and sleep. I am aware of someone whispering sweet words from above, but by now I am so groggy that I can barely make out who they are and what they are saying.
"Good night, Kenzie." The same muffled voice whispers against the side of my head.
"Night Dommy." I murmur softly, smiling peacefully as the haziness of sleep finally consumes me.
***
"Ow. Ow, ow, ow! Shit! Fuck! Ow!"
Pain. Frustration. Anger. Panic.
Those four emotions have been on a continuous loop for the last twenty minutes as I desperately pull at the giant knotted catastrophe I have made of my hair.
This morning wasn't supposed to turn out like this. I had woken up this morning from the deepest sleep of my life feeling like a totally different person. There was still a sense of tiredness clinging to me, but nothing like the heavy-set exhaustion that had been drowning me alive for the past week. Anyway, the point is I had woken up feeling optimistic about what the day ahead would bring.
I had a nice shower. I dressed myself in some nice comfy clothes (being my beloved Charmander T shirt and a pair of black denim shorts), and I had the full intention of putting on a little make-up and doing something nice with my hair. That was the plan, and it definitely didn't include getting a hairbrush stuck amongst my tangled curls.
"Are you ok in there, Mackenzie?" Will calls out from the other side of the bathroom door as I continue to try and untangle my hair from the bristles in my hair brush. Despite my hair being long enough to see what I am doing, my efforts only seem to make my hair twist even further into the brush causing me let out a frustrated cry when it tugs painfully at my scalp.
"I'm fine... I just can't get this stupid...fucking...ow!" Tears brim in my eyes as I let go of the brush and let it dangle in my hair. At this point I don't even know what I am saying, I'm too frustrated by the lack of progress being made to pay attention to my words, and although I am aware that I have probably already dropped more than a few F bombs I can't find it in me to fully care about the consequences.
Pain. Frustration. Anger. Panic.
The cycle begins again.
"Can I come in please, Kenzie?" Will asks sounding mildly concerned by my outburst of emotion.
"Yeah, you can come in." I answer through gritted teeth, lifting the brush to inspect it once again. Maybe if I look at it from another angle it will magically untangle itself.
The door opens with a gentle creak but I keep my attention focused on myself in the mirror. I have been working on this same section of my hair for almost fifteen minutes now and despite the mix of frustration and panic I have so far refused to give up on the challenge. Behind me I can see Will cautiously creeping the top half of his body into the confines of the bathroom, almost as if he is scared of what he is about to find.
"Oh, sweetheart...come here and let me have a closer look at it." Will winces at the sight of me before motioning for me to come out of the bathroom. Any sign of caution has now been thrown to the wind as his understanding of the situation is suddenly made clear.
Knowing that it is unlikely that I will be able to untangle the mess I have made of my hair by myself, I wander closer to the door where Will stands and allow him to inspect the problem at a closer proximity. He seeks my permission first before he does anything else, but the moment I let him know that I am ok with him touching it he instantly does his part to try and ease me of my building distress.
"Is it... can you get it out?" I was going to ask if it was stuck, but realise at the last moment that that would be a dumb question. Of course the stupid brush is stuck in my hair. The real important question is whether he can untangle the giant knot I created without yanking my hair out of my head.
"Hmmm. Possibly, I might be able get it out, but I don't think I am going to be able to do it without causing some kind of damage to your hair." He winces in response.
"That's fine. Please just do whatever you have to do to get it out."
"Are you sure? I can get Nathan to have a look at it if you'd like?" Will asks tentatively, sounding unsure of his own ability to do the job at hand.
"I'm sure. Nathan's already stressed out about securing this new foster family for the agency, I don't want to distract him with something so stupid." Besides, if he calls Nathan out here then I would have to listen to him fuss over me for what would feel like an eternity before he actually does anything to help the situation.
Knowing full well the true meaning behind my excuse, Will sighs quietly before turning his full attention back to cause of our current problem.
"Ok, just bear with me for a little bit, I'll try my best not to touch you anywhere other than your hair, but there is a chance that it might hurt if I pull it the wrong way."
"That's ok Will. I have already pulled what feels like half my hair out of my scalp this morning, so I don't think you can do much worse." I admit with a small laugh to which he responds with his own chuckle.
"I suppose you are right." He agrees, before cautiously lifting the tangled chunk of hair up from where it was resting on my back.
For the next several minutes Will does his best to gently remove the brush from my hair, but much like me he seems to be having some extreme difficulty in making any progress. Every now and then he will tug my hair the wrong way causing my scalp to sting with a fresh wave of pain, but despite the extreme feeling of discomfort I manage to keep myself from crying out when it happens again a few moments later.
I have to give it to Will, he remains patient the entire time that he is focused on my hair, but I can tell that the lack of any serious progress is starting to get to him. It isn't until a painful whimper escapes my lips with the next sharp pull of my hair that he decides to abandon the mission altogether. His apology is quick to follow but I brush it off knowing that he had no intention of causing me any pain. This is just one of the hazards that comes along with having long hair.
"You know what sweetheart? I think it's about time you met James's mum." Will declares, a guilt stricken look on his face as he watches me reach up to massage some of the pain out of my head.
"Do you think she will be able to get it out?" I ask gingerly, trying to shove down my own feelings of guilt for putting him in this position in the first place.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think anybody else could be more qualified for the job." He responds while rubbing the back of his own head in sympathy for me. "She's a hairdresser." He adds quickly when he notices the confused look I shoot him in return.
"Oh." I never knew that James's mum was a hairdresser. I know he had mentioned something about her being a stylist, but I didn't know that she specialised in hair.
"She only lives about five minutes away. Why don't we jump in the car and see if she has an appointment slot available for us?" Will suggests causally, although the tone of his voice hold a pleading edge to it.
"That's ok Will. I'm sure I can find a way to fix this without having to bother anybody else." I respond, hating the thought of burdening yet another person with my trivial problem.
If I have to, I will cut this hair off myself.
"Don't be silly Kenzie, I'm sure Alison would be more than happy to help with this, not to mention she has been jumping at the bit to meet you ever since she found out that you would be joining our family." He waves off my reluctance knowing full well that if given the chance I will find a way to talk myself out of it. I don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to this sort of thing.
Knowing that I'm not going to win this time, I find myself reluctantly agreeing to his suggestion. The answering smile he gives me in return makes me feel slightly better about caving in, but that small feeling of uneasiness still remains.
Ten minutes in the car later and we are parked on the driveway of a cozy looking one story house. The front yard looks like it has been well maintained and the path to the doorway is lined with pretty flowers and patches mondo grass. Will doesn't waste any time in pressing the doorbell, and it doesn't take long for the occupant of the house to appear at the front door.
"Hi Alison, how are you?" William asks cheerfully as he grins at the casually dressed woman behind the screen door.
"William? Oh, its wonderful to see you. Come in, come in. Would you like a cup of tea? Something to eat maybe? I have lemon slice in the fridge if you would like some." She greets him just as cheerfully while unlocking the security screen to let him in.
"I'm fine thanks Alison, but would you happen to have any appointment times available this morning? We kind of have a bit of an emergency situation going on here." He says as he steps into the foyer of the house, me trailing close behind him.
"Oh, and don't I know it. Whoever cut your sides in went way too short with the clippers. They made you look like an alien." She shakes her head in disapproval, while squishing her lips to the side to show her obvious distaste towards the other person's handiwork.
"Not me Alison. I'm talking about Mackenzie." He says with a grimace, stepping slightly to the side so that she can see me better.
"So, this is the wonderful young lady I have heard so much about?" She asks, her smile somehow brightening even further with recognition as her kind brown eyes take in my entire form.
"That's her." Will nods his head in confirmation while I give her an awkward wave.
"Hello Mackenzie, dear. I'm Alison, it's so nice to finally put a face to the name." She introduces herself properly, her hands fluttering in front of her as if she if resisting the urge to cross the room and hug me.
"It's nice to meet you too. You can call me Kenzie if you like, I actually prefer it to my full name." I smile politely at her while fiddling with the hem of my shirt, feeling slightly awkward from the attention that's on me.
"So what are we dealing with here? You said there was some sort of emergency?" Alison asks, turning her gaze back towards Will who had been distracted by his appearance in the mirror hung up on the foyer wall. I have no doubt that Alison's comments about him looking like an alien have not yet been forgotten.
"Yes, we had an incident this morning and, well, I think you will be able to figure it out once you have a closer look at her hair." Will responds quickly, looking away from his reflection and pointing in my direction.
"Why don't you come on through to the salon room and I will have a closer look there?" She suggests quickly, noticing how crowded it is in her cozy little foyer. Will promptly agrees before she leads us through the house to a tidy looking room where I am told to take a seat in a comfy looking leather chair.
There is a mirror and bench like table in front of me and a trolley full of different sized spray bottles and hair appliances sits to the right side of the chair. Will takes a spare seat from across the room and drags it over so that he is facing me from the left side while in the mirror I can see Alison approach me from behind.
"Oh dear. Yes, I see the problem." She winces as she lifts the section of my hair that has the brush tangled in it to inspect the damage closer. I simply sit there quietly and hope that she can find a way to fix this without causing any more pain to my already sensitive scalp.
"You poor thing, this must have hurt." She adds while attempting to pull some of the tangled strands free from the brush with her fingers.
"There were a lot of swear words coming out of the bathroom this morning, that's for sure." Will pins me with an accusatory stare, making me shrink down in my chair a little bit.
"I can see why. This hair is tangled almost beyond saving and if I'm being honest, I don't think I am going to be able to get the brush out without cutting some of it off." Alison grimaces apologetically.
"How much do you need to cut off?" Will asks, looking slightly panicked by her proposed resolution to the problem.
"Maybe around five or six inches. Most of what I will need to cut off is already weak and damaged." She responds evenly, not once breaking eye contact with him.
"That seems like a lot of hair Ali, are you sure that there is nothing else we can do to try and save it?" He quizzes, looking between me, my hair and the sweet woman standing beside me.
He must think that I have some type of emotional attachment to my hair, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I hate having my hair this long. I hate all the fuss that goes into washing it and brushing it out all the time. Not to mention the horrible way it feels when my sweat makes it stick to my body in the summer. It's hot, annoying and quite frankly with all the dead and split ends it looks rather tacky.
I would have cut it myself ages ago, but there has always been this deep-rooted feeling in the pit of my stomach stopping me before I get the chance. Like some type of internal warning that cutting it is the wrong thing to do, but still I can't stop myself from yearning for all the extra weight to be cut loose along with the maintenance that comes along with it.
"Am I allowed to cut it any shorter?" I ask tentatively, looking towards Will for his permission. I know that if I don't say something now I am probably never going to get this chance again.
"We can cut your hair whatever way you would like. Do you have a length in mind sweetie?" Alison asks in return, not even bothering to wait for Will's response.
"Collar bones?" I suggest quietly, wording it more as a question in case it is too short for their liking. Will did seem to want to save the length so I don't want to push it too far in case he doesn't want me to shorten it.
"Oh, so we're talking about a big snip? I can definitely do that for you my dear. We'll add a few layers for some texture and a little bit of face shaping, and with these lovely natural waves in your hair it's going to make you look like a whole new person." She grins with excitement while using her fingers to mark the length just below my collar bones so that I can see it better in the mirror.
She's right, all this extra length has weighed down the wavy pattern in my hair and I have no doubt that if she were to cut where her fingers are sitting, my natural curls would spring back without much effort. Sure, curly hair, no matter how loosely formed they are will require a different level of maintenance than what I have currently been dealing with, but I get the feeling that looking after shoulder length waves would be a lot less difficult and strenuous than the routine I have been following in caring for my hair in the last year or so.
I want my hair cut. Alison looks like she would also like nothing more than to attack the horrid mess that has become of my hair, but there is still something stopping me from giving her the go ahead. My internal warning system is blaring at me like an air raid siren and the same steadfast feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach telling me that I am doing something wrong is back full force. So instead of acknowledging Alison's comments I find myself once again turning to Will.
"Kenzie, it's alright sweetheart. This is your body, it's your hair and you are allowed to do whatever you want with it." Will does his best to reassure me, but the feeling that I am doing something forbidden doesn't subside with his words.
"He's right darling. This is your decision; you don't have to ask anyone for permission to cut your hair." Alison agrees with him, while giving me a sad smile as if she understands my hesitancy. That one look alone, although harmless in itself stirs something deep inside my brain, and before I have time to prepare myself I am drawn into the foggy beginnings of another piece of my forgotten memories.
"Do you think mummy is going to like it?" I ask as I run my fingers through my hair for the millionth time since the lady at the shop took the protective cape off. It feels so silky and smooth, and when I shake my head from side to side the ends tickle my shoulders.
"I don't know baby, but I think you look beautiful." Dominic smiles sadly as he unclips my seatbelt and pulls me out of my car seat. Like every other time he brings me back here, I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze onto him for dear life.
"Like Belle from the beast movie?" I ask, remembering the pretty girl in the yellow dress from the movie we watched yesterday. Emily and I think that she is the prettiest girl we have ever seen.
"I think you're more beautiful than her." He laughs while playfully tickling my sides, causing me to giggle out loud while pulling away from his traitorous fingers. He stops after a couple of seconds to allow me to breathe and once I know he isn't going to let the tickle monster attack me again, I lean in so that my arms are once again wrapped around his neck.
I don't want him to leave me here again and from the way Dominic's arms tighten around me in response I know he doesn't want to leave me here either.
"I love you so much my little princess." He says, squeezing me closer to his chest as he carried me closer to the front of the house.
"Love you too, Dommy." I whisper before planting a giant kiss on his exposed cheek, making sure that I make the required "mwah" sound as I do.
"I promise I'll be back to pick you up again next week baby, alright?" He responds, setting me down on my feet when we reach the front door.
"Don't want you to go." I pout sadly, suddenly missing the warmth of his arms around me.
"I know my love, but I don't have a choice and it won't be for long this time." He shushes me as my lower lip starts to wobble in protest. It's not fair.
Dominic takes the opportunity to knock on the door, affectionately patting the top of my hair with his free hand as he waits for someone to open the door. It takes a few seconds, but finally the door opens and I can see mummy standing on the other side.
"Karina." Dominic says as mummy steps outside, holding the screen door open with her hip.
"Dominic." She responds icily before dropping her eyes down to where I am standing.
"What the hell is this? What did you do to her?" Mummy shouts as she reaches out to touch a strand of my now much shorter hair.
"We went to the nice lady at the shop and she snippeded my hair." I answer for him, not understanding why she seems to be upset. I thought she would be happy to see my pretty hair.
"How dare you cut her hair without my permission!"
"She needed it cut Karina. She had headlice and the ends of her hair were so tangled that I couldn't even put a hairbrush through it." Dominic defends himself while hovering above me protectively.
"I am her mother, I decide when and where she gets her hair cut, not you." She snaps, ignoring his attempt at reasoning while pinning him with one of her scary glares. If that had been me on the receiving end she would have already smacked me by now.
"Now give me my child and get the hell out of my house!" She adds, snatching my upper arm between her fingers and pulling me so that I am almost inside the front door.
"Karina-" Dominic tries to stop her from dragging me but when he realises that his actions could hurt me he quickly lets go of me.
"You are not her father. You do not get to take her away from this house and change her appearance just because you feel like it. She is my child and she will look the way I want her to." Mummy responds angrily. Her hand which had been holding onto my upper arm now rests on my shoulder and the weight of it sitting there makes me shrink in on myself.
"She's happy with it Karina. It was too long." Dominic argues in return, but his voice isn't angry like mummy's. Dominic never gets angry.
"I can't believe you fucking did this Dominic. She was perfectly fine before you took her and now... now she's hideous!" Mummy shouts while pointing her finger in my direction. "You need to leave, and don't even think about coming back to pick her up next week. You aren't taking her anywhere."
"I have visitation rights. If you try to stop me from seeing her, I will call the police." Dominic threatens while crossing his arms over his chest to show how serious he is.
"I don't fucking care! I will tell them that you assaulted my child, then we'll see what they have to say about your visitation rights." She snaps back while tightening her grip on my upper arm almost to the point of pain.
"You and I both know that I would never lay a hand on Mackenzie." Dominic says in a deathly calm voice. "I mean it, if I come here next week and you don't let me take her out, I'm calling the police."
"What's going on here?" Daddy appears behind us as he takes in the scene at the front door.
"Nothing, Adrian. Dominic is leaving." Mummy says brisquely before pulling me all the way into the house and slamming the front door in Dominic's face.
"I don't know if we should do this. She doesn't like it when people cut my hair." I murmur anxiously, not sure if the feeling has leeched onto me from the memory or if it is my own.
"Who doesn't like it Kenzie?" Alison asks curiously while stopping herself from reaching out as I go to pull uselessly against the hairbrush that is still tangled into my hair.
Why wont this stupid thing just come out?
"My mum." I state quietly, swallowing against the lump in my throat as I remember how angry she had been in that memory. Nobody else has ever cared about my appearance as much as my mum did and I would bet that if she were to be granted visitation rights and were to see me with short hair, she would freak out again like she did that time with Dominic.
"Your mother hasn't been here for a very long time Mackenzie. She has absolutely no legal rights to make any decisions on your behalf, and she never will again." Will responds with an alarmed expression on his face. I think if anything, he looks disturbed by the thought that my mother still has the capacity to control my decisions, even after being absent for the last ten years of my life.
"Do you want your hair cut, sweetie?" Alison asks, cutting straight to the heart of the issue. A feeble nod of my head is all I can manage in response, not trusting my voice to stay even if I were to speak.
"Then that is what we will do. We can take it as short or as long as you like, but I'm not going to lie to you, the bottom half of your hair is damaged almost beyond anything I can repair."
I nod my head in response sort of guessing as much, before finally releasing my grip on the brush in my hair. Both Will and Alison look relieved by my actions and after checking with me once more that I am happy to go ahead with the cut, Alison ties my hair up in a low pony tail and begins to mark out where she is going to start.
Thirty-five minutes, two pieces of lemon slice and a ton of loose hair later, Alison is finally finished with my hair. I don't think I really know what I had expected, but the final product far exceeds anything I could have imagined. Gone is the horrid, ratty mess that I had grown accustomed to seeing everyday and, in its place, sits cute shoulder length waves instead.
I love it, Alison loves it, and from the gob smacked expression on Will's face when he sees the final result, I can tell that he loves it too. My head feels so much lighter on my shoulders and when I reach up to touch the tips of my hair I can't help but smile at the silky feeling between my fingers.
Will and Alison talk for another ten minutes before he declares that we need to be on our way, and as we are walking out the door I thank Alison again for the incredible job she did on my hair. She makes us take a box of lemon slice home for the others and with a promise from Will that we will arrange for us all to catch up soon, will and I climb back into his car and begin to drive away.
Instead of taking us home like I had expected, Will drives us into town where he proceeds to enter the McDonalds drive thru. He orders himself a coffee and me a soft serve with a flake, and once our order has been collected through the window he drives us back towards the nearest park. I'm still too surprised that he got me an ice cream cone at this time of the morning to question him about it, but his next words out of his mouth make everything perfectly clear.
"I need to talk to you about something serious Kenzie and I'm not sure how you are going to react." Will says as we walk towards a bench seat situated in front of a children's play ground.
"Ok." So the ice cream was a way to soften whatever blow is about to be thrown at me.
"As you already know, Chelsea seems to be a lot more attentive to your case than some of your other case workers, and it has been brought to everyone's attention that you haven't had a proper dental or medical check up in quite some time." Will advises with a sympathetic frown. I don't think I like where this is heading but for the sake of keeping everybody's shit together I nod for him to continue on with what he is saying.
"She's booked you in for a doctor's appointment at the start of next week, and the dental has been arranged for the week after that. I'm sorry sweetheart, but your health has been neglected by others for too long now and we can't afford to push this off any longer." He explains while I simply take another lick at this delicious ice cream.
Instead of freaking out like he expected, I find myself letting out a tiny giggle. The irony of this situation isn't lost on me, I'm sitting here eating an ice cream and he's talking about me having to attend the dentist. Sure, I'm anxious about having to go to the doctors, but if I don't let myself laugh at the funny side of this while I can then I think I might burst into tears.
"What's tickled your funny bone?" Will asks curiously, my bizarre reaction obviously catching him off guard.
"You got me an ice cream so that you could tell me that I have a dentist appointment." laugh again, somehow finding it even funnier when I have to explain it to him.
"Oh, shit. I didn't even think about that, I just thought that if I gave you something nice to snack on then my bad news wouldn't be so terrible. I didn't realise how insensitive that might come across." He practically face palms himself as he realises what he has done.
"It's fine Will. I think me laughing right now is much better than the other alternative." I wave him off, not wanting to think about how badly this could have gone down if he hadn't made the decision to buy me ice cream for this chat.
"Yeah, I suppose you are right." He nods in agreement, a small emotionless smile tugging at his lips.
Deciding to change the topic, Will and I spend another ten or so minutes just talking about random stuff. He wanted to know what Ben and I were planning to get up to when he and the others had to return to work next week, and I gladly took the time to fill him in on our agenda. At least, the parts that don't involve us being amateur detectives. It feels nice to be having a normal conversation with him after all the drama that has happened in recent weeks, but something about the way Will looks at me when he speaks gives me the sense that there is something stopping him from enjoying this moment as much as I am.
"There's something else on your mind that you wanted talk to me about." I state boldly, recognising the guarded look within his eyes. He has worn that expression a lot over the past few months, especially when there has been something important he needed to tell me but is scared of how I would react.
"You're right, but I don't think I am the right person to be sharing it with you." He answers gravely, his lips squashing together in an uncomfortably flat line.
"That serious?" I ask when he shifts his gaze down towards his coffee cup, avoiding my eyes altogether.
"Yeah."
"It's ok Will. If this is something that is above your pay grade then you don't have to tell me. I don't want to put you in an awkward position with the agency or anybody else who should be telling me this instead." As long as this doesn't become some giant terrible secret like my mother's parole application had been then I am perfectly fine with not knowing for now. Besides, I've already been ambushed with the news of these upcoming medical appointments, I don't think I will be able to keep it together if he drops something even bigger on my plate right now.
"I just don't want this to blow up in our faces like it did last time." He sighs tiredly before reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
"Whatever it is that is that you know about, do you have any control over it all?" I ask pointedly.
"No."
"Then I don't see how I can be upset with you later on when someone does tell me what's going on. You've warned me that there is something big coming up on my radar and that's all you can do." I can't ask anything more of him right now.
"I don't know Kenzie... this is...." Will trails off as if he is lost for the right words to describe the situation but I'm not having anymore of it.
"Something that can wait just a little bit longer." I respond with nothing but certainty. I don't want the only real time we have spent alone together since our fight to be tainted by whatever drama is going on in the background.
Will studies me closely to try and gauge how serious I am being, and when he sees that I am being honest with him he gives me small smile in acknowledgement. Relief is the main emotion evident on his face and it makes me feel a little bit better knowing that I have temporarily eased his stress.
"Now, are you going to come sit on the swings with me, or am I going to have to tell Nathan that you got me ice cream and a chocolate bar on the same day?" I enquire with a hint of cheek knowing full well that it will only lighten the mood further.
"You wouldn't dare." He responds playfully, narrowing his eyes on me as he does.
"Try me." I retort, flashing him with a wicked grin while standing up from the park bench.
"You're an extortionist sometimes, you know that?"
"Yep. There are four of us up in my brain so it makes sense that at least one of us can play hard ball to get what we want." I laugh joyously at the comical look he shoots me in response.
"I thought that was Alex's job."
"Well yes, but I can't let him have all the fun, can I?" I reply smoothly, my smile only growing as I watch Will stand from the bench with a small groan of defeat.
"Fine, I'll go on the swings with you." He huffs like a child who's just been told he has to eat his vegetables, but in reality I can't take him seriously due to the tiny smile that begins to tug at his lips.
Will dumps his empty coffee cup into the nearby garbage bin and when he returns we walk the short distance to the double swing set within the play park. I haven't been to one of these parks in a very long time so when I sit down and begin to swing my feet, my mind is no longer filled with worry and the sadness in my heart is momentarily replaced with joy.
Will seems to be enjoying this as much as I am, and although he doesn't swing as high as I do, I can tell from the content smile on his face that in this moment he is as free as I am. Any thoughts of doctors appointments and agency secrets are temporarily forgotten as we both push ourselves higher, defying the laws of gravity in the process.
Eventually, what goes up must come back down again, but for now I'm just happy to enjoy this moment while it lasts.
Hello wonderful readers :)
So, I'm super sorry for the long wait on getting this chapter out. I didn't expect it to take this long but you know how life gets sometimes.
Thank you for all the continued support on this story, I still can't believe it when I see the number of reads and votes that keep coming in. As always, you are all amazing and I hope you have enjoyed this chapter.
Feel free to let me know what you think. I love reading all the comments (even though I am terrible at replying) :)
I hope you all have a wonderful day/night :)