Jean Reese

Five: Wrong Choices

My brows puckered when the bike parked inside a villa. And amazing would be an understatement to describe the place. It's simply fresh and breathtaking. It doesn't look like an institution at all.

I climbed down the bike and took my helmet off. A fine-looking woman, in her early forties, greeted us.

"How was the ride?" The woman asked. "I'm Dr. Rose Brenan, by the way. I'm the head psychiatrist of the Walker Foundation." She extended her hand.

I shook it timidly. "Jean Reese," I replied. "This doesn't look like the institution I was expecting."

The shrink smiled. "This is not the institution," she said. "This is Finn's home."

"Welcome to Eastwood Spring, Jean," Finn butted in, placing a comfortable hand on my waist. "This is where you will be staying until you accept the fact that you're not crazy."

I forced not to roll my eyeballs at him. I discreetly moved his hand away from me. How can he just make decisions for me? I should have been notified.

The shrink must have read my mind and explained, "Based on your records, what you need is a change of environment not a change of institution. This is a perfect place for you. Here, everything is calm."

Before I could respond, Finn pushed me up the stairs and into the house. The shrink just followed.

Inside the house was as exquisite as the outside. The wood furniture didn't look expensive, but she knew all costs a fortune. It's not overly decorated, just enough to know that the place was owned by a big shot.

"I'm gonna leave you to Rose," Finn whispered behind me. "I'll be upstairs. Give your things to Olivia. She's already prepared a room for you." Then he left.

An elderly woman came out of what seemed to be the kitchen and approached us. She took my backpack and smiled at me. "Hi. Welcome to Eastwood Spring. I have prepared snacks. Please follow me."

"Thanks, Olivia," Dr. Brenan replied. Then she led me to the kitchen. We sat across each other; in front of us were freshly baked cookies and tea. "Please help yourself, Jean."

I nodded and reach for my tea reluctantly. I smelt it. Jasmine...I sipped a little and place it back carefully.

Dr. Brenan was silent for a while, as if studying my whole being. I was used to it. I have been under different shrinks back at the institution. The only difference was that the woman regarded me gently.

"You don't actually suffer from conversion disorder. Being hysterical is not a real ailment, though it's categorized as a disease. However, you never suffered from any skeletal contraction. Your symptoms aren't severe. Yet you have been at the institution for three months now," she began. "Faintness, insomnia, nervousness, shortness of breath, irritability are things that can be treated and cured."

I nodded. "I know."

She shifted on her seat, and sat comfortably. "It's good that you know. Tell me about your last escape," she prompted.

I stared blankly at her. "I don't want to talk about it."

She nodded. "Is it troublesome to tell?"

"I guess."

"When it's trouble people tend not to talk about it."

"Who wants to talk about trouble?"

"So you admit that it's a trouble, reason why you find it hard to talk about?"

I sighed. "Yes."

"The tendency to cause trouble is a result of your irritability. You are irrationally upset."

"I have the right to be upset, but it's not irrational! My Dad is in jail because of me!" I said, shouted perhaps.

"There's no need for you to feel agitated, Jean," she responded calmly. "I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to help you and make you understand that something is driving you to act this way."

I didn't reply. My emotions were starting to swell up.

"In the wild, the cubs do whatever they want. They go wherever they pleased. They are innocent of their drastic surrounding. When the cubs become a prey, their parents would equally do drastic measures to protect them. That's the law of the wild...
...same goes with people. The society has changed drastically into a wild. It's already a miracle when the heap doesn't catch you. Cubs like yourself are victims of this drastic change. It's only natural for your Dad to protect his innocent cub." Dr. Brenan explained.

A sob skipped out of my throat. "I was too weak. I know what's right from wrong, yet I failed to choose the right choice."

"And the things you do to save your father, does it make you strong?"

I shook my head.

"Does that mean, you're continually choosing the wrong choices?"

Then the question hit me hard. I had been doing things my way, thinking that my decisions were right because I aimed to save my father. I acted through my guts. Yet I always failed. Was I really making bad choices even though my intentions were good?

Dr. Brenan stood up and took my hand. My cold hand warmed up under her gentle touch. "You are young and have plenty of chances to make better choices. Stop feeling responsible for your dad's actions. It was a natural thing for him to do. I would do the same if I were in his shoe."

"He did what he did because of me," I muttered.

"He chose to do it," she replied. "It was his choice. You have no power to stop a father's love. What you can do is to be responsible with your own choices. Stop blaming yourself and learn to accept that what happened is not your fault."

I sure did calm a little. I had been doing this kind of sessions, but it was the first time I felt a bit light-hearted. Was it because of the surrounding, or maybe it was because everybody here didn't think I was crazy at all.

"Well, this is enough for today. I need you to rest." She called for Olivia again and asked her to send me to my room.

I didn't look at the shrink when I left for my room. I was totally not good with dealing people. I definitely had these annoying mood swings.

Am I becoming bipolar? Urgh! Enough with my self-diagnosis.

When I reached my room, I felt the tension from earlier left me. The walls were clear and it gave me a perfect view of a man-made waterfall outside. Everything was so green and refreshing.

"I have placed your things inside the closet," Olivia informed me from behind. I turned to see her standing before a queen-sized bed. She was smiling.

I liked her.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Lunch will be served later, so please take a nap."

Before Olivia could turn around and leave, I stopped her. "Can we talk for a moment?"
She hesitated for a moment, but obliged. "Sure."

"So, you don't mind if I stay here?" I started.

"You are our guest. You are most welcome here."

"Well, you know I have a condition..." I said, quite unsure why I was telling this to her. "I'm not your typical guest. I-I do unnecessary things when I'm upset. And...and I become upset so easily."

If Olivia was shock, she didn't show it. "My mother used to be upset all the time, so I'm used to it," she replied, smiling. "Dr. Brenan is good. She can help you."

"I hope so."

"The best cure I know is when you never lose hope. You have to help yourself too. The cure always lies within you."

I really knew Olivia was good. I liked her even more. "Thanks, Olivia."

"Anytime, love," she said before she left the room.

I looked at the bed and suddenly felt tired. I decided to take a nap before asking Olivia more interesting questions--about Finn.