I'll Help You Hide From Them

Honesty

I gradually wake up from a dreamless sleep at 4.58am and remember that I have booked an appointment with Dr. Illingworth in less than an hour. I get off the sofa, avoiding looking at the area where Ralph turned into Shane as I get dressed and brush my teeth. The sound of quiet breathing in my room reminds me that Kier stayed the night so I write out a note for him. I also leave him some money in case he wants to buy breakfast on the way to the police station.

While I'm walking, I start to get paranoid that someone's following me. Certain that he might be Ralph's shooter, I take out my phone to pretend to be calling someone when instead I'm tilting my head to get a good angle of them to take pictures.

When I'm satisfied I enter the police station and walk towards Dr. Illingworth's office.

I carefully knock on the door, hearing a soft "come in" before pushing open the door.

Luke is standing by his desk, putting some files in his drawers and locking them.

"That's high security." I observe.

"It would have to be, your worst enemies will want to get inside your head and since I work with a lot of officers it would be a catastrophe if a criminal got their hands on my files." He explains. "Forgive me for being so rude, take a seat." He offers.

I sit down on the sofa, looking at how he sits down on the chair gracefully. For such a tall and firmly built man, he's certainly very delicate.

"Thank you for last night. After I had that bath I was so calm I didn't dream anything." I sincerely tell him.

"Don't mention it, it's my job to help you overcome that traumatic experience but that method won't work all the time. We will need to find other ways to get you relaxed enough to sleep without getting any more nightmares. Do you want to talk about your nightmare in detail? I could perhaps help you understand it." He politely offers.

"I was with Ralph. It made me feel so calm and safe but then he just changed into Shane. I could feel his tongue licking me and his knife cutting into me. I could even smell his breath." I admit, biting my lip to hold myself together.

"There's no shame in crying here. After what you've been through I can certainly understand it if you cried." He suggests.

"You've heard me cry." I point out with shame. "No, I've cried more than enough over this. The more I cry, the weaker I am and the weaker I am, the more the man who orchestrated everything wins."

"You shouldn't hold back your emotions to spite the man who did this to you. It's only the two of us and no one else will know if you cried here. Don't block your recovery for such a childish reason." He tells me confidently. "Not to mention, since you've been taken off the case you're no longer directly confronting this shooter."

"You're a powerful man, I take it the last time you cried was when you were twelve." I point out, ignoring his latter point.

He shakes his head. "It was two months ago. My dog just passed away. Losing a really close friend is a perfectly acceptable reason to cry over." He explains.

Hearing this makes a lump form in my throat. "I loved Ralph." I shakily admit. "I loved him so much but I didn't want to be in trouble for breaking protocol so I never got to tell him." I whimper, my eyes watering up. "It almost wouldn't occur to me that he could die on the job and I don't know how to handle myself."

He passes me a box of tissues which I use instantly to cry into, wiping my face and blowing my nose as I keep crying.

"It's not unusual for you to feel this way. In ancient Greece, soldiers would be lovers so that they would be willing to die protecting each other. By working in such a high risk environment, your relationship with Ralph was intensified so that you both would've done anything to help each other." He explains while I keep crying. "It makes sense that after spending so long working together on holidays and late nights, your brain would begin to fantasise about being involved with him."

"What if Ralph was killed because I wasn't eaten? What if it's because of me he's dead?" I sob. "I'm so pathetic! He has a brother who needs him! My parents would understand if I died on the job. They're prepared for it but he was just gonna fix his life. I should be dead, not him."

Dr. Illingworth carefully rests a light hand on my shoulder, massaging me with his thumb. "You need to stop thinking like that. You're going through survivor's guilt. It's a perfectly natural effect but it should be treated early on." He tells me. "Would this be a good time for you to see me on a daily basis?"

"Aren't appointments usually weakly?" I check.

"I'm afraid there's a lot I need to work through with you. With daily appointments it'll be more likely for us to make progress. Tomorrow I'm going to help you with meditation, is that alright? Until then, I'll prescribe some sleeping pills which will make you sleep easier." He tells me as he takes out a notebook and writes out a prescription. "Take two with a glass of water and wrap up warm." He tells me, handing it to me and guiding me to the door.