Companion

Chapter 18: Turning Pages

Somehow, I manage to avoid Edge for a full week. I feel really petty about it, but at the same time, I feel like it's something that has needed to happen for a while. Too many times, he's hurt me, and I've just thrown my forgiveness around like it's nothing. I feel powerful. But I also feel like a bitch.

Of course, it's easy to avoid Edge at school, and even on the bus. I don't tell Penny and Nate and Violet and Oliver what's happening, but they seem to understand that they shouldn't bring it up. At home, I lock myself in my room or in the attic. Every night, Edge bring me dinner and puts in by my door, knocks, and walks away. Every night, I feel guilty about being such a bitch, eat the food Edge brought, and cry a bit. Which makes me not only a bitch, but a pathetic bitch. Which may be one of the worst kinds of bitch around.

Anyway, now that I actually understand what I'm doing in school, thanks to the ridiculous amounts of help from Violet and Nate, I can actually finish my homework without a tantrum. Because I'm not having as many tantrums and I have decided not to acknowledge Edge for the time being (which, I suppose, is really just one big tantrum in and of itself), I get more time to organize the attic.

The majority of what I go through are books. It wouldn't have taken me long, if I hadn't recently developed a great interest in reading. I don't remember being much interested in reading before, especially recently because of the amount of time I spent trying to figure out how to dig myself out of the pit of academic failure, but going through the books in the boxes made me realize how much there was to learn.

Friday afternoon, I arrive at home straight away. Edge waits a few minutes behind, making sure there are no awkward collisions, and being considerate enough to respect my much-needed space. I head straight upstairs and shut the door behind me.

I'm craving a book.

This is a sensation I am just starting to get used to. That of wanting to read words completely unrelated to what I'm doing for hours on end during school.

Then I remember it.

I walk to my dresser and open my bottom, leftmost drawer. I dig under some jeans, and retrieve it. A Guide to Recognizing and Treating Mental Disorders Volume V: Post-traumatic Stress Disorder.

I flip through page after page of tiny text and scientific words until I reach the back of the book, where I find a list of symptoms considerably easier to read. After all, despite my newfound interest in literature, reading huge books of tiny text and scientific words seems like something only to be done within the confines of school.

Some common symptoms of PTSD:

Flashbacks. People suffering from PTSD commonly re-experience the event or events that are the cause of the trauma.

Nightmares. These nightmares can be about the traumatic experience itself, or a more symbolic representation. Nightmares can also be made up of unrecognizable content completely unrelated to the experience, but occur frequently. People with PTSD may also have difficulty falling and/or staying asleep.

Sufferers of PTSD most commonly experience intense distress and/or physical reactions when reminded of the event. Physical reactions include (but are not limited to): pounding heart, rapid breathing, nausea, muscle tension, and sweating.

I stop reading and look straight ahead at the blank, white wall in front of me. I think of the man with the black eyes and the pointed teeth. I think of the people chasing me, telling me I was one of them. Then I look at the list. That sounds like unrecognizable content to me. But why would I have post-traumatic stress? I slam the book shut. I need to not think before I drive myself insane.