Void and Repair

June shivered in her flimsy teal gown. The cold sterility of the implant room crept up her spine and the steel-sharp odor of the disinfectant pierced through her nostrils, boring straight into her brain. Her eyes drifted from one blank space to the next, stopping at nothing.

Her head throbbed and she began to breathe through her mouth after each whiff of the disinfectant. She could almost taste the chemicals amalgamating in the back of her mouth like metallic phlegm and her stomach lurched.

Stellan sat on another table across from her, smiling and tapping his hand on his thighs as his lips moved.

She heard him whispering a song. Her lips curled into a passing smile when their eyes met.

"You doing good, Junebug?" said Stellan.

"I guess," she said. "I don't know."

"You're going to be solid, okay?"

June nodded. Her hands were locked together, the right one squeezing the left.

Stellan slid off his table and walked over to her. "Relax, all right?" He took her hands and kissed them. "You're not alone here." He winked at her.

Her smile shrank to a pout and she dipped her eyes downward.

"What's up? Talk to me," said Stellan.

She stuttered. "Mom and Mimi." Her eyes clouded up and a solid lump inched up her throat. She breathed and the air quaked out of her in audible tremors. "They hate me."

"Babe," said Stellan. "They don't hate you, okay?"

"I killed them. I let them die."

"You did not kill them." His hands rested on her shoulders. "Stop saying that."

"Mimi," June raised her hand to her face, her voice besieged by the sobs convulsing out of her. "I couldn't do anything."

"It's all right."

"No, I should've just drowned with them." She screamed at him and forced in a deep breath through her nose. The disinfectant smell glided through her like an icy blade and she expelled the air in the air in the lungs like it was poison. "Where's the doctor? I can't do this, the smell. I can't breathe--"

But Stellan pulled her close, squeezing her until they were both rigid. He shushed her, running his hands down the back of her head. "It's okay," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice muffled now as she pressed her face onto Stellan's chest.

The door slid open and both the doctor and a technician rushed in. Their features were blurred in June's misty eyes. They exchanged a few words with Stellan. Then, the doctor, in his light blue scrubs, stepped quietly toward June, stooped down and met her blank gaze.

"June," he said, holding her hand, "it's going to be all right. I promise you."

She reached for Stellan's hand and squeezed it.

"Everyone I treated walked out of here happier than they ever were before. Everyone."

She nodded and sniffed. The technician brought her a tissue box.

"We're going to void out the phobias, the anxieties, everything," said the doctor. "And Stellan's going to be your anchor. Right, Stellan? You're going to take good care of her, yeah?"

"Of course," he said, kissing June on the head. "Always."

"VAR is so simple the whole process won't take thirty minutes, okay?" said the doctor. "It's a cakewalk," he snapped his fingers and beamed a smile. "Just like that."