The Survivor (Book #2)

Chapter 14

After lunch, I had another session with Charlotte. I supposed it was a good thing. There was an awkwardness about therapy where you worried about going in and sharing too much, and alternately, you worried about going in and having nothing to say. I didn't know how much to say. I didn't know if I should lie and try to protect her. I tried not to because she was too good to me. I didn't want to repay her with dishonesty.

"Hello, Maya," Charlotte said with a warm smile. It made me immediately uncomfortable. Stop being kind to me, I thought.

"Hi."

"What do you want to talk about today?" she asked me.

"Why do you always do this?" I groaned, only half-kidding. The more sessions we had, the more control she gave me. She would always ask what I wanted to talk about first, and it nearly always worked. I would suggest something dumb and we would dive in and I would end up over-sharing some heartbreaking story that made her sad and made me more stoic than ever.

We were working on me not shutting down my feelings.

"What do you want to talk about, Maya?" she said again, setting down the pad of paper and looking me in the eyes.

"Do you ever write notes about me when we're just at dinner?" I asked curiously. She looked like my question hurt her.

"Of course not! I'm not writing notes about you, I'm writing notes for myself. I don't want to forget what you say!" she explained. Apparently, TV got it wrong.

"Oh."

She tried not to laugh at me and gave me a look urging me to suggest a topic.

I laughed at her very obvious expression.

"Fine." I agreed, bring my legs up under me on the sofa. "I had nightmares last night. I told Brooks about it and he was really nice." I tried to distract her with the last sentence. It was nice of her to pretend she didn't notice that that's what I was doing.

"I'm really glad you opened up to him and he responded well. Can I ask what happened in the nightmares?" she asked, blue eyes looking at me inscrutably.

I scratched my forehead and then answered.

"Which one?"

"How about we start with the first one you remember?"

I gulped. "It was dark, and I couldn't see anything, but I knew there was a bed in front of me. I reached for it and then I heard breathing. It got closer and I think there was someone behind me, it kind of felt hot in the room."

She didn't comment that my dreams were vivid or that it sounded scary, she just nodded thoughtfully.

"What were you feeling?" she asked.

Always the feelings with this woman.

"Scared?" I asked, hating to admit that anything scares me. "Anxious. I didn't know what to do."

She nodded somberly and said, "That sounds really scary. I'd be terrified."

"You would?" She seemed so confident all the time, I was genuinely surprised.

"Who wouldn't be?" she asked.

I thought about that, although her question was clearly rhetorical.

"Damon?" I asked with a smile. "He'd probably kill the dude before he even reached him!"

"You think it was a guy in the room?" Charlotte asked casually.

I looked down, realizing that I did think it was a guy in the room, even though I had no recollection of seeing anyone. It was just a feeling. Did she think I was lying now? I nodded to her, hoping she could read the truth in my eyes.

"Do you want to try a new practice with me?" she asked. "It's called 'rewriting your nightmares'."

"Did you make that up?"

She leaned her head back and laughed, before making eye contact with me again. "You give me far too much credit, Maya. Someone much smarter than me made this up!"

There was nobody smarter than her, but I ignored that because I didn't want her to think I was lame.

"What do we have to do?" I asked.

"We're going to think of an action for you to do, that changes the ending of the dream. Rewrite it ourselves, get it? What would you make happen if you could?"

"Umm, I don't know," I said embarrassed. "I don't want to hurt anyone." And it was true. For all that my uncle did, which wasn't much, I wouldn't wish him harm. I wouldn't wish anyone harm.

"You don't have to hurt anyone. We're just going to change the ending. Do you need an example?" she asked, cocking her head to the side with a sly smile.

I nodded eagerly. I loved when she participated. As far as I was concerned, she should just give me a lecture while I listened and learned for an hour, and then we could both leave happily.

"Do you know the big lights they put on stadiums, like soccer and football fields?" she asked, with a fervent twinkle in her eye. I smiled and bit my lip.

"What if there was a switch right in your hand and you pressed it and those big lights blasted all over the room? And it was perfectly bright, and you could see everything? And there was no person there at all, it was your own breathing." She finished.

I clapped and cheered, and she laughed, waving a hand at me like I was flattering her.

"Do you want to tell me about the next dream, and we can try rewriting it?" she asked.

I nodded hesitantly and began speaking, a little bit faster now.

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A/N This is a real technique I learned in therapy! I'll drop a link to a video explaining it in case anyone is curious! It has actually helped me in real life! 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lv38dzpcxfA