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"So, tell me, how is your family dealing with the loss?" Dr. Henderson asks me.

I shift uncomfortably in my chair causing it to squeak a little.
"They don't." I say.
"They don't deal with it." I don't even dare to look into her eyes. She's probably going to send me back there.

"How are they not dealing?"
I look at the woman giving her a weak half-smile before taking a deep breath and I start to explain.
"They... They pretend it's just a temporary thing. As if he's just gonna show up to dinner after football practice or as if he's gonna be coming with us to the movies." I pause. I know the whole meaning of therapy is over sharing, but I think I might be over over sharing right now.

Henderson looks at me as if she's expecting me to tell her more. Fuck it.

"Mum still changes his bed sheets. Weekly. They even set the table for five people. Like, they never realized we're just the four of us now."

I didn't realize while I was talking that I was crying, but now I feel the tears running down my cheeks.

"Would you say it's hard to stay in the house?" She asks. 

"Well, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"In some cases, the way that people around you behave can affect you. And frankly in your case I don't think it's healthy for you or your recovery to stay there under these circumstances. How does it make you feel when they set up an extra plate for dinner?"
My therapist always wears a wine-red lipstick. It complements her green eyes.

"It... It almost makes me believe them." My voice cracks.
"It makes me think that maybe, just maybe he'll stop by and tell us it's all okay. And that what happened to him didn't actually happen, that it was all a cruel dream." I've cried in front of her before, but never like this. This time I didn't try not to cry or to hide anything.
She looks at her notes for a while.

"I won't send you back to the facility because, you are doing a lot better. You were there for four weeks and it helped you a lot. But I don't think being at home right now is gonna help much either." She says with a worried look on her face.

"Sooo?" I say dragging out the 'o' for a bit.
"So, I'm gonna see if they have anywhere you can stay at the world list. If you're up for it of course." She smiles.
"What's a 'world list'?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Well, it's much like an exchange. Kind of like, a getaway for people who are having a hard time making their life better at home. Sometimes it takes a lot more than a therapist and a diagnosis to get better. So, we created the program called "world". It's very simple, you tell me where you're willing to go, and, thanks to our many volunteer homes, I find somewhere for you to stay. Whether its in China or Bristol, we'll help you get there. And we pay all the bills and plane tickets and such. You will be assigned a new therapist in your new temporary hometown, where you have to go once a week."

"That sounds... amazing." I say, my jaw almost hitting the carpeted floor below me.

"So, where would you be willing to go?" She asks.
I stay quiet for a while.
"I have no idea." I half laugh.
She takes handbag and fishes an iPad mini out. She sits there scrolling for a bit.
"Hmm... New York?" She asks

"Too... crazy." I say.
She nods.
"Copenhagen?" She looks back at me. I just noticed now that she's wearing reading glasses.
"Too close to home, I wanna get out of here... like, for real." I say suddenly understanding myself a whole lot more than usually.
She nods. "Do you have any ideas yourself?"

I look at my shoes for a bit, wondering.
"Something like, I don't know, Australia?"

She looks back at her ipad and scrolls a bit more.

"There's only one home available in Australia. Shall I give them a call?" She gives me a warm smile.

"Shouldn't you call my mum first?"
"I have had a word with both of your parents. They actually encouraged you to do this." She smiled

I nod. "Call Australia then."

She picks up the phone showing it to me like she's asking for permission to call. I nod. And she dials the number.

"Hello, am I speaking to a Mrs. Hemmings?"

I couldn't make out the words the other end of the phone call was saying.

"... Okay, great, I'm Charlotte Henderson, calling you about the 'World' program- Yes we have actually. Of course, hang on for a moment."

Dr. Henderson hands me the phone.
She gives me an encouraging look as in "take the phone, talk to her."

I put the phone to my ear.
"Hi." I say.

"Hi, what's your name, love?" The woman seems excited and happy to talk to me.

"It's Cait... ma'am"


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