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Chapter Twenty
" icy needles"
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During Tallulah's time on summer break, Tallulah had gone back home. She returned to the small, colorful village she had grown up in, back to the small house she was raised in, back to the small forest of pines that lined her house, and back to the tiny cove she had spent her childhood summers playing in.
That is what she dreamt of now.
Just months ago, she had gained the memory of sitting in the sand, the tide washing over her bare feet. The cold sting of the water shooting the needles of frozen water over her feet. She could feel it in her dreams, the repetitive pattern coursing over and over herself again.
She could still feel her fingers digging slightly into the sand, the grainy feeling beneath her fingertips. Tallulah in the dream opened her mouth to breathe from instead of her nose; she could taste the salt in the air, could feel the sea sink deep into her bones. The crashing over the water made the dream seem even realer.
The girl could hear the gulls flying overhead, their calls echoing in her ears. She lay there on the beach for a while before the clouds in the sky started getting darker and closer together, getting rid of the blue that was once there. Dark grey covered the sky like sheets on a mattress.
The water that was once around the girl's feet were now noticeably getting closer to her thighs. She tried to get up from her spot, but her hands sunk into the sand. She forcibly tried to remove them, but it was as if the sand had turned to a solid once her hands had slipped in.
The icy cold water was now up to her belly button, sending shivers down her spine. She twisted and turned trying to get up from the spot on the beach. It was no use. The gulls were still cawing overhead, circling her above. Were they just gulls?
Small droplets of water were now hitting the surface of the water above. The water surface getting farther and farther above her reach. Finally, the darkness took over from her dream, and Tallulah jolted awake.
The girl woke up in cold, shaking sweat, her breathing coming in uneven gasps. Her eyes traveled to the figure still asleep under the covers next to her, Davis. The boy she had met back home... he was still fast asleep. She carefully got up from her spot on the bed, the moonlight pouring in from the open window being the only source of light to the girl as she crept out of bed.
She moved to the small green armchair in the corner of the room and nestled into it, smelling the pine needles as she stared out the open window. Part of the reason she was cold in her dream must have been the fact that the ginger had cracked the window before heading to bed. The cold air danced across the arms as she sat there holding her knees.
Small goosebumps arose on the open skin from her T-shirt. She leaned into the chair watching the streets below; they were empty for the most part due to the late hour in the night, but every now and then a small drunk group of people would walk by, or a person possibly out for a late-night walk.
The orange light from the street lamps below made the room glow slightly. She occasionally saw cars driving by as well, a white one, a red one, a blue one. Soon her tired mind was too sleep-deprived to try and keep track of the ones she had seen. Her eyes hung heavy but she didn't want to go back to bed, scared of having the same nightmare.
She turned her head when she heard the bedframe creak, the girl saw the dirty blonde-haired man sit up in bed and look to the spot she was supposed to be sleeping. He then looked around the room once he had deduced that she was no longer in the bed with him. She gave him a small smile once the boy made eye contact with her.
"Leanabh," The man spoke sweetly; the nickname was Gaelic for babe. "Come back to bed." Tallulah just found it funny that the man spoke some Gaelic; he had a Boston accent and was originally from the states.
Tallulah had found Davis in a pub in the town. He had originally started the conversation by talking to her about a band that used to play there when he was a teenager. Little did he know it was Tallulah's old band with Joe. The boy's eyes had bulged out at the realization, and they had been inseparable ever since.
The boy made Tallulah happy, and vice versa. He had dirty blonde hair, cut in a very '90s fashion; his dark blue eyes that were usually covered with wire glasses were on her now waiting for the girl to move back into the bed. She hesitated but only for a moment before moving from the emerald-colored chair and climbing back into bed with the boy. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, "You're chilly, Leanabh." He mumbled sleepily; she chuckled lightly.
She felt the heavy tug on her eyelids again and let the sleep overcome her for the second time that night.
THE NEXT DAY
Tallulah sat the next day on a seat in the stands while she worked. The girl still refused to step foot in the tiny office. For some reason, the girl could not fathom she was terrified to go back in there. It was too cramped, too snug. She knew as soon as she got back in there that she would feel trapped again, and as soon as she would be able, she would want to leave again.
So she found that the stands were the best substitute for her office. She set up her computer and got back into her work. When Tallulah was on her break, she had gotten all of the photos she had taken from the disposable camera and had digitalized them. Tallulah was now working on converting the tape footage she had from the old camcorder and converting it to digital as well.
Tallulah was about an hour into work when a voice had stopped her. A darker-skinned woman in a green shirt approached her. "Hello, I'm Doctor Sharon Fieldstone. I'm the club's new therapist; I was told I would find Tallulah Fitzpatrick up here." She stuck out her hand once she had finally reached the ginger.
Tallulah furrowed her eyebrows at the woman but accepted her hand all the same, "Yeah, that's me. I'm the team photographer; nice to meet you."
"You as well, I was wondering if you'd like to stop by my office later today."
"Why would I want to do that?" She stated, her eyes narrow and slightly distrustful.
The older woman looked taken by surprise at the girl's bluntness before she composed herself, revealing the conversation she had earlier with her boss, "Ms. Welton told me you could benefit from talking to me perhaps; she spoke about you going on a trip recently."
The girl remained silent, feeling betrayed by the older woman. She was doing fine; she was better now; she felt better. She had nothing to prove to the therapist. "How about you come around three o'clock." Tallulah gave her a curt nod, not making eye contact.
The doctor then walked back out of the stands, leaving Tallulah
to herself. She sat quietly and stared out at the open field. The green grass she had missed so much, she could almost smell it, the freshness of the earth. God, she missed it.
THREE O'CLOCK
Tallulah sat on a couch outside of Dr. Sharon's office, anxiously tapping her foot and twisting a ring around her finger. She looked down on the grey carpet speckled with other little flecks of color mixed in. In all honesty, she didn't know why she was so nervous. She wiped her sweaty hands against her pants.
She tried to think of things to calm herself. Her house, her old childhood home. The creaky old porch, with a bright yellow door, and light blue shutters on all the windows. She thought of the small-town pub she had visited only to find Davis. Then she thought back to his soothing voice.
He had a thick Boston accent, he had lived there most of his life. Davey had only moved to Ireland and now to England after dropping out of college. The blonde-haired boy reminded her in so many little ways of her father. The accent, the red sox, the constant need to talk about American 'football,' but he was gentle and kind.
The rapid tapping of her foot suddenly stopped as the door to Sharon's office opened. Colin stepped out as well as the doctor in question. Sharon's eyes met Tallulah's only for a second before she turned back to Colin, mumbling something the girl couldn't make out. He eventually left, leaving the doctor and Tallulah in the waiting room.
"Tallulah, you ready to come in?"
No. "Yes." She stood up, wiping her hands off on her pants again. She walked past the doctor taking in the doctor's office. The first thing she noticed was it was big. Simple. A very modern-looking office with minimal furniture. It had big floor-to-ceiling windows which were letting in warm, golden light into the space.
She then noticed the desk, in front of which were two chairs set up, sitting across from one another. Sharon took one of the seats, giving the young girl time to adjust to the space before gesturing to the chair, "Would you like to take a seat?"
Her eyebrows furrowed together but took the seat all the same. She avoided the eye contact again, this time looking at a plant over the shoulder of the older woman instead of looking at the carpet. Sharon cleared her throat before she began to speak, breaking the uncomfortable tension in the room, "Tallulah why do you think you're here?"
The redhead shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "I don't know." She shrugged, "Unlucky I guess."
"Unlucky?"
"Yeah..." She racked her brain, trying to think of an answer good enough for the woman, "Unlucky, I don't want to be here, but I am because I'm unlucky."
"So you don't like therapy?" The other woman wrote down things on a notepad. The scratching of the pen was getting on the girl's nerves.
"Does anyone?" She tried to focus.
"Well, I think it depends on the person's experience with therapy that makes them dislike or like therapy, I suppose."
Tallulah thought back to the one and only time she had ever gone to therapy; it wasn't exactly the best experience. "The last time I went to therapy, I was ten."
Sharon nodded, "What happened that time?"
Tallulah gulped, made even more uncomfortable by the memory, "I don't want to talk about it."
Sharon nodded, "That's okay." The doctor was getting nowhere with the other. "Tallulah, I just want you to know that everything you say to me stays with me."
"I know that." The girl mumbled before sighing again and opening up just the tiniest bit. "I think I'm here because at the end of the last season, I tried to quit."
Sharon nodded and let the girl continue, "I don't know why I really tried to quit. At the time I felt stuck... but if I'm being honest, I think I just..." Fell in love, she thought. Fell in love with Jamie Tartt.
"I think I just felt off for a while."
"And why do you think that, Tallulah?"
Tallulah sat there quietly for a moment, "Have you ever been in love with anyone, Dr. Sharon?"
She was taken aback by the question, "How do you think that is relevant?"
"Well, I kind of feel like if you want me to answer your questions, you have to answer some of mine." Tallulah stated crossing her arms.
Sharon looked back at the girl before placing her notebook on her desk and getting in a more comfortable position, "Perhaps you are right, Tallulah, though I'm not quite sure I've ever been in love before."
"You would know. When you're away from that person," Tallulah could almost feel the pain coming back, "It's like you forget how to breathe, speak... feel. The person alters your brain chemistry. When you're in love... your world... it's only them."
Sharon sat there for a moment, taking in the girl's description, "Then my answer is certain; no, Tallulah, I can honestly say that I have never been in love like that."
Tallulah nodded, her head now hung low. "When that person leaves though... you feel empty. It changes you, makes you feel like nothing else matters but that person. But the person's out of reach and... then you're just left there feeling... numb."
The word hung in the air, Sharon waiting for the girl to continue, but she never did, "Do you still feel numb, Tallulah?"
"I don't know." She spoke honestly, "Over the summer I went back home, to Ireland. A little small town on the coast is where I grew up. I went back to my old house; it was all weathered down by the sea wind, but it was still standing there. Small and mighty." She light-heartedly chuckled.
"There's a small dirt road that leads to this tiny little beach. The water is ice-cold." Her smile faded when she remembered her dream from last night. "Usually when I need to go to a happy place, I think back to the beach, but last night I had this nightmare. I was on the beach, it was normal at first, but then a storm came over and I got stuck in the sand. The tide started to rise, but I was stuck so I drowned."
There was another silence, "It's weird how your mind can do that, take away your happy place. Why do you think that beach was your happy place?"
"It was my childhood home... it was the last place I felt that true happy feeling. The beach... I used to listen to the waves at night from my bedroom. Every night before I fell asleep I would hear the waves, every morning when I woke up I heard the waves. It was the only constant. No matter what happened, no matter how bad or good my day was, it always ended and started the same way."
"Repetitiveness is soothing, having the same thing be there for you, no change. It makes sense that it makes you feel calm and connected. How did your parents feel about you coming back home?" The doctor asked.
"I don't think they minded that much."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, they've been dead for almost a decade now," she stated.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Do you want to tell me about them?"
"I can. My mother, Fiona, was a teacher at the little school in town. My father, Wesley, was a carpenter. He had a little woodshop that I wasn't allowed in. I used to sneak in there every now and then to see all the tables and chairs he was making. My mum was sweet, caring; she could see the best in everyone. She believed in the good."
"My father was originally from the states, Massachusetts, I think. He reminds me a lot of Davis, or I should say Davis reminds me a lot of him. He's funny, he's really sweet. He doesn't make me feel bad about anything I do or say." She smiled at the thought of the boy.
"And who is Davis?"
"Davis is my boyfriend. We met at the local pub in the town. He wears these dork glasses, and he loves to read. But he talks in this funny American accent. He's looking for a job at a journalist place right now. I would tell him he should be the next Trent Crimm, but he hates what he calls 'soccer.' He only watched the games with me when I was away because he said I make these little squinty eyes when I watch the team." She chuckled, as did Sharon.
There was a lull in the conversation before Sharon started talking again, "Tallulah, why do you think you're scared of going to your office?"
Tallulah froze suddenly, remembering why she was there in that office, why she was sitting in therapy. People were worried about her. Still. Rebecca wanted her to see a therapist, and it was obvious from that question that Beard talked to her as well.
"I don't want to be trapped," she spoke softly.
"Trapped?" Sharon questioned the word.
Tallulah paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words. "Last year, I was fine at the beginning. But after a while, someone made me realize I didn't want to waste my life anymore. Every day I would wake up, go to work, and then come home. I was in a constant loop of nothing. I didn't feel anything, didn't do anything. So I'm worried that if I go back to that little stuffy office again, I'll be back and I'll be trapped, and I'll be stuck. I'm not sure if I can make it out this time. I can't go back in there."
Sharon looked at the girl more closely, leaning in and taking hold of her hand. "Tallulah, I think you need to realize that you're not that person anymore. And from what it seems like, you're happier than you were last year."
Tallulah's hand moved away from hers. "That's what I thought too, but I didn't ask for this meeting. Rebecca did."
"Do you honestly care that much about what these people say about you?"
Tallulah sat there for a moment before answering, "Yes. I do." Her voice did not shake in the slightest. "These people are my family."
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