"How have things been going? We haven't met for a couple of weeks."
"I've been fine. I just needed to get away for a while. But things have actually been a lot better."
"And the dreams? How are those going?"
"They've stopped. I'm not crying anymore. I really do feel different. I feel free."
The therapist, smiles. "Good. I'm glad to hear. Sometimes a get away is all a person needs. How are you feeling about next month?"
"Fine. I actually feel like I can deal with it. I know it's going to be hard, but the worst part is over."
We end the session as we normally do. The therapist looks at the clock on the wall, nods his head, and walks me to the door. "By the way, Nicole, don't worry about coming in until after next month.
I turn around, astonished. "Uhm, why?"
"You've been doing really well and I've seen a great change in you. I want a quick check up to see how you're doing after... well, you know... but I don't really think you need this anymore."
Shock sets in and I run forward to hug him. "Thank you," I whisper before letting go and running down the hall. After almost a year of talking about my feelings, I'm done. I feel a little bad about not learning the therapist's name, given he knows everything about me, but after next month, I wont even have to worry about it anymore. I'll be a free girl.
Next month.
It's almost been a year since my parent's deaths. September 14th, to be exact, and yeah, it's been hard. Not knowing who killed them...
I remember it almost perfectly.
I had just spent the night at my cousin's house, giving my parents the night alone for their anniversary. When I walked into the house the next day, blood painted the walls and the bodies of my parents were in pieces around the room. It wasn't just a murder, it was a massacre. Luckily, Malcolm and Aunt Jen hadn't gotten out of the driveway by the time I screamed. The following weeks were full of reporters and camera crews. It got so bad that I couldn't even leave the house. Malcolm and a few of my friends were the ones to pack my things and bring them to Aunt Jen's. I haven't even walked into that house since the day I found them. For months, I had nightmares; visions of terror on my mother's face while her body was on the other side of the room. It haunted me.
After their deaths, I moved in with Malcolm and Aunt Jen, leaving the house I had grown up in behind. I had taken almost a whole year off of school, coming back during the last two months of it, and things had never been so weird. Whispers behind my back, awkward glances, and rumors being spread. I almost wanted to leave again. After a while though, things died down. Life got to be some what normal again. Sophomore year ended and I spent most of my summer either in the water or on the basketball court. It helped keep my mind off of everything that happened. The nightmares stopped, and I was finally getting some sleep. It was what I needed, and I guess the therapist saw improvements in me.
Finally, I can be a normal teenager again.
