Swim

Homecoming

Regina stood on the expansive front steps of her childhood home in Evanston, Illinois. The grand, two-story house with its ornate columns and manicured lawns brought back a flood of memories. She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and apprehension. Moments later, the door swung open to reveal her mother, June George, with a warm smile that instantly made Regina feel a bit lighter.

"Regina, sweetheart!" June exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. "It's so good to see you. How have you been?"

Regina returned the embrace, feeling the tension of the past months start to ease. "I've been okay, Mom. It's been a tough few months, but I'm getting through it."

June held her at arm's length, examining her closely. "Well, you're here now, and that's what matters. Come inside. I made your favorite—lasagna."

As Regina stepped into the house, the comforting scents of home-cooked food and the familiar ambiance enveloped her. She followed her mother into the kitchen, where the table was already set with elegant china and silverware.

"Sit down, honey. Tell me everything," June said, her voice full of concern and love.

Over dinner, Regina shared bits and pieces of her life, carefully avoiding the most painful details of her recent experiences. June listened intently, offering supportive words and occasional advice. Despite the comforting atmosphere, Regina felt a lingering unease, an underlying anxiety she couldn't quite shake off.

The next morning, Regina decided to take a walk around her old neighborhood. The air was crisp, and the sun cast a warm glow over the tree-lined streets. As she walked, she was hit by a wave of nostalgia. Every corner, every house held a memory. She passed by her old school and remembered the friends she had made, the games she had played, and the lessons she had learned.

Lost in thought, Regina didn't notice the yellow school bus until it was too late. The sight of it brought a sudden, overwhelming flashback. She was transported back to that fateful day in high school when she was hit by a similar bus, an event that had left both physical and emotional scars.

The sound of children laughing and the bus's engine roared in her ears, blending into a cacophony of panic. Regina's heart raced, her breath quickened, and she felt the ground sway beneath her. She clutched at her chest, desperately trying to steady herself.

"Regina? Regina, are you okay?" a concerned voice broke through the haze. A neighbor had noticed her distress and rushed over.

Regina nodded weakly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...a little overwhelmed."

But she knew she wasn't fine. The flashback had shaken her to the core, and she needed help. As soon as she could, she hurried back to her mother's house and went straight to her room. With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and booked an emergency online session with her therapist, Grace.

Later that evening, Regina sat at her desk, her laptop open in front of her. The familiar face of Grace appeared on the screen, her eyes filled with concern.

"Regina, it's good to see you. How are you holding up?" Grace asked gently.

Regina took a deep breath, her voice wavering. "I'm not doing so well, Grace. I had a really bad flashback today. I thought I was over it, but...I guess I'm not."

Grace nodded understandingly. "Flashbacks can be very powerful, and they often come when we least expect them. It's important to acknowledge them and work through the emotions they bring up. Can you tell me more about what happened?"

Regina recounted the experience, her voice trembling as she described the sudden panic and fear. Grace listened intently, her expression one of empathy and support.