Monique

Mental

"I'm not seeing a shrink," Monique says as she stabs her fork into her piece of steak.

Her mother raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

"I. Said. I. Am. Not. Seeing. A. Shrink." Monique states again as she roughly cuts the steak with her knife. Small drops of blood dribble down the side and onto her plate. They stain the mash potatoes and her vegetables. She likes her steak rare.

"Why don't you want to see a psychiatrist?" Monique can see her mum is choosing her words carefully. She wants to win the argument. She has to win the argument. That's the thing with lawyers. They have to win every single argument.

"I don't have problems," Monique replies as she chews on the meat.

Her mum sips on her champagne. "I didn't say you have problems."

"Then why do you want me to go to a psychiatrist?" Monique knows the answer before her mum can say anything. People talk. People have always talked. It wouldn't look good if everyone thinks she's mentally insane. Her parents have a reputation to keep. She's nothing but a hindrance with her "problem"

"I'm just worried about you?"

"Worried? Since when did you care?" Her mum recoils. Monique stares her pointedly at her. She was never there when Monique was growing up. She'd rather spend time in the courtroom sending rapists and baby killers to jail than spend time with her own daughter.

"Your appointment is at five o'clock tomorrow. Don't be late."

She doesn't go.

Her mother has a fight with her. She screams and then gives her the silent treatment. She refuses to make her meals. Monique buys her dinner at McDonalds.

Saturday night comes along. She goes to bed early. The last night of the silent shitty mood treatment is always the worst. She locks the door and closes the curtains. She can finally look at her bedside table with normal eyes. She burnt John's letter, but his present is still around her neck, tucked under her shirt. She gives into sleep and is knocked out cold.

It isn't long before she hears voices. She can hear him screaming her name. Blaming her for everything. He howls begging for mercy. He tells her to help him escape. He's hurt. He's dying. He's on fire. She always reaches out, trying to touch him. Trying to save him. She's almost there. She never touches him. He always slips through her fingers. By the time she wakes up, sunlight is flooding into her room. She's drenched in sweat. Her throat is dry.

Her mother says hi to her for the first time in three days. Her father drinks a litre of orange juice before heading off to his study to do some work. Monique flicks through the channels and watches some Vampire Diaries. After ten minutes she becomes bored. Elena annoys the crap out of her.

She changes into her tracksuit and goes running across the suburb. The cold air blocks her nose and freezes her lungs. Her back of her head tingles. Her legs burn.

She passes the shops. She passes her school. She runs across the oval three times and heads back home. Her mum is out. Her father is still in the study. She chucks some premade food in the microwave and makes herself a smoothie.

Four minutes later the microwave beeps. The smoothie is on the table. She settles down to eat.

Tomorrow begins the last week of term. She has exams in five weeks. She should honestly start studying.

Monique finishes eating and cleans her mess. She heads upstairs to her bedroom and changes into her pyjama bottoms. As she removes her top, she sees him standing by the window. His face is charred and bloodied. His flannel shirt is now dark brown, soaked in blood.

"Save me."

She can barely hear him. His voice is cracked. Before she can reply he screams and vanishes.

The necklace burns her neck. She quickly throws it to the floor and watches as it bursts into flames.