Fluctuat nec Mergitur

Chapter 3

*One month later*

I looked out the window of the car that Lynne forced me into. She's taking me to the doctor and I want to die. My hand gripped the handle of the door, my knuckles white. I hate this. I know I said earlier that something is probably wrong with me, but I'm fine the way I am. Really. I could swear all I want that I'm totally fine and it would never dissuade Lynne.

Five minutes later, I sat in the waiting room, arms crossed, until Lynne dragged me into the doctor's room by the shoulder. I've been to the doctor before, maybe last week, and I hated it, but that was for general health and the worst part was just getting a bunch of shots that I'd missed. I'm talking maybe six or seven for all kinds of things that I can't remember the names of.

Now I'm in here for my sleeping issues and assorted behavioral aspects. This doctor speaks both French and English, so that I won't be stuck out of a conversation that centers around me, I guess.

I answered a number of questions, and the doctor talked to Lynne for a lot longer than she had talked to me. I just crossed my arms again, waiting.

"Is what Lynne is telling me about you having nightmares true?" The doctor turned to me again. I didn't respond.

"Think of it this way," She looked at her clipboard for my name. "Max. If you don't talk to me, nothing will get done and you'll have to live with this for the rest of your life. That sounds unpleasant at least to me, based on what Lynne has told me. Now, be honest. Do you have nightmares or not?"

All I could do was nod. Her voice was strict and mean. I wasn't in the mood to fight. Besides, Lynne was giving me a tell her already look.

"How often do they occur?" She began writing on her clipboard.

"Every night." My expression didn't change.

"If I may ask, what do you see in them? If you can, please tell me everything that happens. The more you can say, the more it can help us figure out what's going on."

I hesitated. "There's two different ones. Sometimes they blend together."

"Okay." She wrote that down in black pen.

"The one that happens the most is about my birth parents." I can't say that I've ever said these words to any other human being before. It's hard. "They got shot in the streets of Amiens and I see that almost every night."

"What happens in the dream?" Her voice became less harsh, which made her seem like she somewhat cares. She just continuously writes without looking up.

"I was really little, but I remember it. I only see my dad. He gets shot in the chest and forehead and he looks down at me before he falls onto the street. He's bleeding and bleeding and there's a clean hole in his head and the blood is all over and his eyes are the same color as mine but empty and dead. He was gone before he hit the ground. Someone pulled me out of the scene and takes me away and I never see them again. If I had brothers or sisters, I never saw them again either." The words just came faster and faster and I couldn't stop it anymore. I shifted uncomfortably. I'd gone from my nightmares to the story of my life in five sentences.

"Did you say there was another one you had?" The doctor nodded.

"Yeah." I nodded, looking at Lynne past the doctor as if she could somehow help me. She raised her eyebrows, nodding like the doctor. "I had foster parents in Amiens when I was seven to when I was nine. It only ended because the house burned down. It was the middle of the night and I don't remember how I got out. I watched the firemen pull their bodies out of the wreckage. They were so charred that they didn't even look human anymore. I just ran. I could deal with losing one set of parents, because I was little and the grief had faded away, but losing another, especially when I was older like that, was I guess just too much." I am telling the truth.