The Tame (ON HOLD)

Of flying tempers

''How long have you been having these nightmares?'', the not-so-young woman asked, her eyes lingering on a broad white file.

Phina gave the woman a questioning look, not that she was reluctant to divulge her fears - everyone has fears - but she wondered to what end? Would the therapist be able to allay her fears? Would her parents come back? Would Brendan ever look on her with eyes holding not contempt and disdain? She flinched when she noticed that much of her thoughts were centered on him - actually she'd been doing that a lot lately - what was wrong with her?

Her hands involuntarily went to her heart when she realised that she didn't want Brendan Kincaid to loathe her: actually she wanted him to l..., Phina gasped loudly and paused at the thought: it was so insane, she couldn't bring it to completion. What did she care if Brendan hated or... or... or...

''Hey, are you okay?''

Phina looked to her left: Lorraine sat across her and with the way her lips were moving, it seemed the question had erupted from her lips. Phina continued staring at Lorraine in confusion till the question her friend asked clicked. Nodding her head in understanding, Phina answered, ''Yes I am okay.''

''You don't look okay,''  Lorraine persisted.

Phina's head whipped up in indignance. ''I am okay, but I don't think you are. Or else you wouldn't have dragged my ass here to have me interrogated like a mental patient!''

Lorraine paled in shock - a reaction to Phina's accusation and crass language. Phina was never foul-tongued, not even when Lorraine had tried to coerce her into badgirl mood. And it wasn't as if Lorraine had forced her here: she'd only suggested seeing a therapist and Phina had agreed! Lorraine bit her tongue: Phina was not the shy, young girl from South Africa anymore. She'd changed, and as to whether it was positive or no, Lorraine didn't know.  She stood to leave, but gazed down when she felt a tugging on her dress.

''Please don't leave, I'm so sorry I lost control. It won't happen again,''  Phina pleaded.

She watched Lorraine sigh wearily and return to her seat. The therapist cleared her throat and Phina turned to look at her.

''It is not something out of the blue, it happens to most of my patients when they're unusually stressed,'' the doctor explained, her eyes trained on Lorraine, ''They just snap when things get too heated for them. It's not the lady's fault. And of course, that's why I'm here. To help.''

Phina peeked at Lorraine from the corner of her eyes. Her friend had done a lot for her and Phina was grateful. If there were things she wanted to let go of, Lorraine wasn't one of those things. Phina wasn't going to let Brendan, his mother, or nightmares whatsoever separate her from Lorraine Holmes' friendship. Cracking out of her thoughts, she concentrated on the doctor and what she was saying.

''There are many stages in stress, but the last and worst is when the patient loses sanity and control. We don't want that happening with your friend, do we?'', the therapist asked Lorraine with an easy smile.

Lorraine vehemently shook her head. ''No.''

The therapist smiled again and turned to Phina. ''So I'll ask again, how long have you been having these nightmares?''

Phina studied the woman's white coat for a long while before answering, ''Four years now.''

The doctor adjusted her glasses - which had lowered to her nose -, run her eyes over the file in her hands and spoke, ''Was it after your parents' death? You filled that in your file.''

''Yes, I was seventeen then and I didn't think much of it. But I'm starting to get paranoid and scared.''

The therapist nodded and ruffled through her drawers. She produced a heavy book and handed it to Phina. ''I wrote it myself when my career was at its peak and I had made quite some serious discoveries. Read it and I assure you, you'll find your answers, but first,'' the doctor said and rose, ''I'll arrange some medications for you.''