Loving Raven

13. My Friend, the Therapist

Jackson and I had agreed to meet for burgers that Friday night, and the most appropriate place for the meet-up was our favorite hangout; Shoney's Bar and Grill. The establishment had never changed over the years; it kept the 70's era alive and well with it's checkered tile floorings, tables with booths, even a jukebox found itself tucked away in the corner and was still used by so many people even though it was ancient. Shoney's never bothered to change the menu; you could always find yourself snagging a decent burger and fries, always accompanied with a chocolate or strawberry milkshake. The nostalgic meal never seemed to grow old.

I found myself awaiting for Jackson's arrival in one of the corner booths, nothing unusual for me to find myself in the corner of any room I would find myself in. The owner of the establishment, Mr. Reynold's, was a longtime family friend of my father's. Every time I was in the establishment, he would always make it a priority to seat himself within my booth for a little chatter. Tonight was no different.

Sweat and grease covered his once pearly white apron and he approached the booth wiping his hands on them, "Cullen McIntyre, seems like it's been ages since we've seen the likes of you around here. How are you these days, how's your father?" He welcomed himself to the booth across from me, folding his hands onto the table awaiting for my reply.

I greeted him with a smile, "Father's doing well, busy as always. I've been better, I'm doing much better." My words came out solemnly knowing good and well he wasn't just making an attempt at small talk, he wanted to know the nitty gritty of my mental status.

Everyone had heard about the accident that killed Raven, everyone. It was the latest hot gossip. Nothing happening in town came close to comparing to the accident that took someone's life, Raven's life. If I could, I avoided coming out into public. This was the first time in months, other than my trips to see Dr. Mills, I had found myself out on the town. I felt the eyes staring at me, I heard the whispers. 

"How are you doing, Cullen?" Mr. Reynolds' question broke me away from my train of thought, asking the question I was most dreading. A question I could no longer avoid, the same question that managed to break me despite my recent revelations with Dr. Mills. The same question that always reminded me that I wasn't fully fixed, I wasn't better.

"I'm alright," I lied straight through my teeth, "I'm seeing a therapist, the sessions have really been helping me. I just got released from my mandatory monthly visits, that's got to mean something. I'm finally getting my head back on my shoulders. I found Jackson, that's why I'm here tonight. Burgers and fries with Jackson, just like old times."

He was nodding his head staring deep into the depths of my soul, "How about Ms. Biles? Have you seen her folks lately? I don't hardly see them around town anymore since the accident. How are they?"

"To tell you the truth, Mr. Reynolds', I don't know. I haven't seen her parents since the day of the funeral, I was avoiding everyone really. I've been kicking myself in the ass every day since it happened," guilt washed over me. I had completely neglected Raven's family after the accident, having emotionally abandoned them leaving them to cope and mourn over the loss of their daughter by themselves. 

"You can't blame yourself for what happened to Raven," he placed one of his hands over mine, "It's not your fault, nobody deserves to be burdened with such pain and the amount of guilt that you do. It isn't your fault, and nobody around these parts believes it's your fault."

"The stares and the whispers," I removed his hand in order to place my head in my hands, the anxiety washing over me, "I hear the whispers, I see the stares. I know everyone still talks about what happens, and I pray every single day that something more interesting would come along. I wish every day that something would happen and everyone would forget about the accident. I just want everything to stop. All of these feelings makes me know that I'm not alright, that my therapist must be full of shit herself. I'm seeing things and hearing things I know isn't real, and it's making me go crazy. It's like I'm one step away from the nuthouse, and I don't want to be this way! I want to be normal, I just want everything to go back to normal."