Out Of The Shadows

Untitled Part 1

Note: song lyrics from Amy Grant's "Ask Me" (noted with "**")

October 1991

It had been a very long day for both Nichole Patterson and her daughter Danielle. First work and school then volunteering for a special church service lasting almost three hours had left them both tired out. Shortly after getting in the door and a small dinner, it was straight on to bed.

Within an hour, the fifteen year old was soon sound asleep, in her white, four post canopy bed, snuggled under a large purple bedspread with red flowers. Those were her two favorite colors, sported across the room. Silk roses were in a glass vase on the dresser. The small room was lightly scented in lavender, which was said to help with sleep. Over the last couple of months, they had been doing some experimenting with smells.

Nichole stands in the doorway, watching her daughter lay there. She reflects on how the teenage girl had grown in the last four and a half years. A once a timid, scared girl, she had blossomed into a beautiful young woman before her eyes. From the start, she felt this was meant to be, the two of them together. She recalls that day the social worker called her about a girl needing to be placed.

"She's going to be a handful." the social worker had told her, and boy, was she right. It was in the parking lot of a fast food place that they had first met, in early April about three weeks before her eleventh birthday. They got along pretty good and soon Danielle was under her care.

A handful was an understatement. More like trying to tame an wild animal at times. The girl was in some aspects, almost feral (for lack of a better word) both socially and emotionally considering her background. It took some time for the girl to open up, but eventually she learned to trust her.

Things became harder when she had to be put in a psychiatric ward almost right away due to issues with her lashing out in anger. It was obviously clear she wasn't well adapted to being around normal kids. Then it was the challenge of seventh grade, that was when she had to be mainstreamed. That what it is called when someone with special needs (in this case, autism) would be intergrated into regular classes, part or all day.

My, how she has grown in more ways than one, she thinks standing there at the door, through the good times and bad, we've been through it all. I am so proud of her. It had to have been the adoption that did it. She's much more healthier physically and emotionally and I couldn't have it any better. The moonlight that shone through the window behind the bed gave a sense of her glowing like an angel. The adoption had been finalized just over a year earlier. Now Danielle was well adjusted, getting ready to start driving in fact. The thought made the forty three year old woman a little bit nervous, the idea of her behind the wheel. She then closes the door and goes to her own room on the other side of the trailer that faced the street. Within a half an hour, she was into a slumber of her own.

But Nichole had concerns. In the last few months, she noticed something was happening. Danielle was starting to have nightmares again. She wasn't screaming, but more often, she was murmuring in her sleep about being left alone, not wanting to be touched. She would be swatting the air at something unseen, telling who or whatever to stop. But when she wakes up, her daughter would have no memory of it.

Quite a few times she had gotten hit from the girl's flailing. And she had bruises to show for it. She recalled those first few weeks she was with her. Dani had really bad nightmares, screaming and flailing. The memory of them made her shudder. What does she dream of that's so unsettling to cause her to lash out like this?

Karen was Dani's therapist and was well aware of the situation and had tried to help her in dealing with them, with some success. "I think she may be having memories starting to come up she isn't able to deal with yet by what you're telling me." She had recently told Nichole after coming to this conclusion.