What Remains
You robbed me of my life.
You took my heart, and you murdered it.
And now I will never be the same.
"....—And that's pretty much all I can remember. Um, painkillers kind of made the rest a blur." I murmur.
The warm glow of the sun blooms through the window and rests orange on my skin. I can feel the soft cushions beneath me, holding my weight gently as I shift in place. Mrs. Delaney, my assigned psychiatrist, sits across from me. Her eyes read to be lost in thought as she recounts my words.
I had tried to explain to her my experience in... In that place. Starting from wherever I left off from last session, that is. It's a bit hard to piece every detail together like I once could; it's frustrating how foggy my memory has been lately. Then again, being back on my medications has made me entirely groggy. Never liked that feeling, but it beats seeing and hearing things.
"Um, Quinn," Mrs. Delaney starts. I catch her brown eyes. "You recalled that he had..." She pauses, glances at my stomach uncomfortably, "That you are pregnant."
I nod slowly as I allow one hand of mine to rest on my tummy.
"I want to be clear on this, was it consensual?" Her hands intertwine.
I perk up a little. "Oh— I'm sorry, I should've said— yes. Yes, it was." I give a prolonged blink. "No matter... uh. No, he's not the type of person to do that."
Mrs. Delaney fixes her glasses, despite them being placed perfectly fine. "Would you mind if I asked something personal?"
A loose chuckle falls from my lips. "That's kind of what you're meant for." I say sarcastically. I hope she's gotten used to that by now.
She smiles softly before letting it fall. "Do you plan to keep the baby?"
Well, um...
I hadn't thought of that too much.
How long has it been since I've been out?
Maybe.. about two or three months.
I press my lips together in a thin line before speaking, "I haven't really thought of what to do."
"Have you gotten an ultrasound yet?" Delaney asks.
I shake my head gently. "No. I've been in and out of the doctor's for my shoulder, back, and stomach. I doubt they'd be able to do the ultrasound right now—... I, um, still have the scratch on my tummy a bit." I remark sheepishly.
Mrs. Delaney fixes a stray piece of brown hair behind her ear. "How are your wounds? Have they been bothering you?" She asks. The care in her tone means something to me, but I won't tell her that.
"My shoulder bugs me the most," I sigh, "but my back and front are doing okay. I just can't stretch too hard."
"Ah, good, good..." There's a long pause of silence as Mrs. Delaney thinks. "I wanted to ask this last session but I didn't get the chance," Her tongue presses lightly into her cheek. "Have you been seeing or hearing anything since you've started on- and excuse my pronunciation- Aripiprazole? No intense side effects with the Fluoxetine?"
I chuckle. "It's a hard one, I know." I gesture dismissively with my hands. "But no, I've been good so far. Feeling better, mostly."
"That's great. Really, it is. You've come a long way since we started seeing each other, Quinn. You should be proud of yourself." Mrs. Delaney grins reassuringly.
I can't help but smirk a little. "Thank you, Delaney. I... I think I've been doing well." My expression lighthearted fades a little. "Though it's still all so... vivid, in my mind. It could've been yesterday when everything happened. And that's weird, because at the same time my memory is so foggy." A slight grimace takes my face.
Delaney sighs understandingly. "Of course. You went through a lot, Quinn. It won't all go away in an instant. But you have so many people who are behind you and who are willing to wait out this storm with you until we can see the other side. It will get better. It's not the end of the world."
What?
"Um, I'm sorry?" I mutter.
Where did I hear that before?
She pauses. "Sorry, that sounded harsher than I meant. I mean to say, I believe in you. I know you can pull through."
"Oh, yeah," A curt laugh releases from me. "No, of course. I... There's just a lot on my plate. With the police and all...—"
"I'm sorry, honey, I don't want to cut you off," Mrs. Delaney suddenly appears nervous. My attention centers on her completely. "Our session is coming to a close, and I wanted to spare some time at the end because, well, there's someone who asked to see you. Personally."
I furrow my brows in concern, but nod anyway. "I don't mind. Are they here now?" I ask tentatively.
My fingers lightly thrum over the armrest of the couch.
Someone asked to see me personally?
I've spoken to countless detectives and police. Could this be a journalist?
Why am I so nervous?
"I asked her to wait in the lounge. If you're okay with it, I can call her down." Delaney pauses quickly, "Only if you're comfortable— I can always refuse."
I shake my head gently. "No, it's okay, you can call her in. I trust you."
I offer a smile, to which Delaney reciprocates.
She picks up her phone and her fingers dance across the screen; I assume she's texting the front desk or something like that.
Only a few moments later does a knock come from the door. Delaney stands up and reaches for the handle, but halts in place. "Are you absolutely sure?"
My mouth opens to speak, yet nothing comes out. I opt for another nod.
Delaney turns back to the door. She turns the knob and steps aside. "I'm glad you could make it." She utters to the lady, before her head shifts back to me. "Quinn, meet—"
Sydney?
End of Book 1
26/12/2022
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14/08/2024
YOU ARE READING
What Remains
Horror(Originally optimized for Google Docs, apologies for any mistakes.) When exploring any abandoned building, make sure you take into account both what is there, and what isn't! There SHOULD be: -You, AND a friend or two! Never go alone when exploring...
