Three Drops Final (ABANDONED)

Chapter 7- The Meaning

Felicia's POV

I filled in forms and papers, and we spoke for several hours. Most forms were unmarked, but I could glean a lot about what I was being tested for. Depression, anxiety, PTSD... The list went on and on.

As the session progressed, Dr Oleday's attempts to conceal her worry became weaker. I answered all of her questions honestly, and with (what I assumed to be) a disturbingly cheerful manner.

By the end of the session, she sighed very slightly and looked down. "Felicia?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to die?"

I opened my mouth to answer, a smile still etched on my face. As if of its own accord, my smile deflated, and I looked down. My downfall was my hesitation; immediately, she scribbled something down on her notepad.

"I don't–" I began, attempting to salvage my mistake. "I don't really want to die. I have things to live for, believe me."

"If you were being one hundred percent honest with me, you wouldn't have had to put that 'really' into your sentence."

"Well, everyone has bad days. Everyone sometimes feels like... like they just want to die." I tried to defend myself, but even I could hear my own doubt as my voice lowered itself into a whisper towards the end of the sentence.

"Not like this, Felicia." Dr Oleday gestured towards her piles of notes and sheets. "This is dangerous, and unhealthy. You've gone through a lot. According to your file–"

"I know what my file says," I interrupted. "I'm aware that I'm a victim of abuse of every possible kind. I'm aware that my mother is dead, and so is my girlfriend, and just recently another of my close friends. I'm aware that I am absolutely, irreversibly, and completely fucked up." I rolled up my sleeves, showing my pale forearms criss-crossed with dozens upon dozens of scars. "These scars are here for a reason." I pulled my neckline to the side, revealing patches of skin littered with circular burn marks. "These scars are here for a reason." I lifted the side of my shirt up, caressing lightly over whip marks that overlapped and snaked around from my back to my sides. "These scars are here for a reason."

Dr Oleday looked as if she wanted to say something, but I stopped her. "And yet... And yet I have survived all of it. All of this suffering, all of this pain, and guess what? I'm still alive and kicking. Sure, I may be in shock, or I may just be crazy, but I'm here and I'm alive. And I'm not going anywhere."

"Felicia, though this all sounds very sweet, you must understand that this is very hard to believe, as a licensed psychiatrist. Especially considering the suicidal tendences you have displayed thus far, it's–"

"I know. Believe me, I know. I was there. I remember how it felt, I remember how much pain I was in. I remember all of it. That is how I know that this is different. My head is clear... I'm grieving, of course I'm grieving, and I know this clarity won't last forever, I know that soon grief and guilt will overwhelm me again, but just listen to me now, listen to my sane side: I don't want to die."

Dr Oleday sighed. "If this were up to me, I'd have you in a rehabilitation center straight away. Unfortunately, it's not. I'm going to prescribe some medicine to you, but there's nothing much more I can do, at least not until I speak to his Majesty."