Max, My Savoir

I Have... What? | Chapter 13

Warning: Longish

Bottles of  alcohol. Knifes. Chains. Parents. Blood. Punches. Kicks. Blood. Blood. Blood.

I woke up, screamed, and  cryed. I guess I startled Max cause he basically fell out his chair. He immediately knew what was happening and hugged me tight. Three nurses came rushing in and asked what happened. "She gets nightmares a lot and they freak her out." Max said calmly. Two nurses left but one stayed. "I just have two questions." I nodded for her to go on. "How often to they happen?"

"About twice per week." I said through sobbs.

"Are they based on terrible events in your life?"

"Y-yeah. W-why?"

"Now,  I can't say this as a nurse, but as a friend, you might have PTSD."

"PTSD? What does that mean?" Max asked.

"Post-traumatic stress disorder. I'm not positive but you may want to get checked for it."

"Okay. Thank you Ms." And she left. That same day I got realsed from the hospital. I had to use Max to walk because it hurt a little to walk.

"So do you wanna get checked for PTSD or what?"

"I think I should see if the nightmares come again."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." A couple minutes went bye and Max said something.

"Fuck. What are Ross and Tim gonna say when I hide everything sharp?"

"Just tell them. I mean, you and Adam already know."

"You sure, Rine?"

"Yeah." I sighed and looked out the window. When we pulled into the driveway I got a little nervous. We walked in and Max called Ross and Tim into the den. "Why the hell are we here?" Ross asked. Max looked at me. I took a deep breath and rolled up my sleeve. They gasped. "We need to lock up everything sharp." Max said. They got up and ran to their rooms. They brought back everything sharp. Even Ross's Katana. Max went to his while they watched me. I just stared at all the blades and sharp objects. Max came down with all his, and a lock. He put it on the silver wear drawer and locked it. He got a big lock up box and placed everything inside, after looking through my stuff.

Then we sat on the couch and watched Friends reruns. I cuddled up next to Max and fell asleep.

Darkness. Candle. Fire. Burns. Whiskey. Blood. Skin. Punches. Blood. Kicks. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

I wake up, scream, and cry. Just like all the other times. The arm around me tightened. "Shh Shh Shh. Its okay. Its okay. I'm here. Max is here. Shh... "

Time skip

"Ms. Kimberlin, the tests have come back positive. You indeed have PTSD."
Max squeezed my hand.

"You can either have a therapist, or a service dog."

"A service dog please. I'd rather confess stuff to and animal than a person."

He wrote something down and handed me a piece of paper. "Show this to the shelter then next time you go. They will give you a vest."

"Thank you."

We got in the car. "You wanna look for a dog now?" Max asked.

"Sure."

We arrived at the shelter and showed them the paper. They brought me and Max to a special part and told me these dogs were trained. I looked around. None that were really good. Then in the back, I saw this  golden retriever lab mut. This was the one. They gave me a real vest and we went home. That night, I had a dream.