32
I WOKE moments later, or days. I had no idea. All traces of the darkness were gone. I blinked into the bright light above my head, trying to make sense of where I was. My head felt heavy, my brain muddled. I lifted my arm to rub my eyes so I could see. My arm refused to move. I twisted my head to find that my wrist was bound to the bed.
A filling of dread engulfed me and I slammed my eyes closed, unable to bear the truth. Tears leaked out behind my closed eyelids, flowing down my cheeks. I was still in my basement. I had never left.
Grief unlike any I had ever felt blanketed me as sobs tore through my body. I knew I should muffle them. If Mother heard me she would be angry. I couldn’t stop my crying. Ripping their way through me seemed to be the only option.
I could hear the sound of approaching footsteps. The urge to brace myself like I’d always done was there, but I could not find the will to care. I refused to open my eyes. Facing the truth would likely kill me this time.
A cool hand reached out and touched me. Instinctively, I jerked away. That hand would cause me pain.
“Mia, you’re going to be okay.” Wait. Where was the low, gravelly voice? This voice I knew. It wasn’t real. It was another manifestation of my betraying head. “Are you in pain?” Her cool fingers touched my wrist as they fumbled with the cuff that held me to the bed. Her voice sounded so much like Dr. Marshall’s it made a new fountain of tears flow down my cheeks.
A second later my wrist was free. No longer able to resist, I opened my eyes, hoping against disappointment. Dr. Marshall smiled down at me as she made her way to the other side of my bed, unfastening my right arm, which I wasn’t even aware was bound also.
Peering around the room, I saw that I wasn’t in my basement prison. I was clearly in some kind of hospital room. It wasn’t all a dream. My brain was still muddled and felt like mush. I was confused.
“What happened?” I asked once she freed my right wrist. “What were these for?” I lifted one of the cuffs before letting it fall back down the side of the bed.
She scooted the only chair in the room close to my bed and sat down before she answered. “You suffered a breakdown,” she said gently. “I had hoped to prevent it from happening.”
“A breakdown?” I asked, trying to remember what had happened. My memories were just at the edge of my mind, dancing away as I tried to reach for them. If I had a breakdown, did that mean I really was crazy?
“Mia, do you remember going to school on Friday?”
“I think so. I mean, I did go, right?” Friday was a great day from what I remember. It was the day Mom told me I would be changing my school schedule. I remembered how happy I’d been standing in the kitchen with her and Jacob and then we left for school, but for some reason, I couldn’t remember anything after that. The memory was there. I could feel it taunting me, but it refused to come to the surface.
Dr. Marshall watched me carefully. “Mia, do you remember what happened in the cafeteria?”
I pulled myself to a sitting position, shaking my head, hoping that would help clear it.
“Mia, let’s talk about your friends.”
Her voice sounded like it came from the other side of a tunnel as my memories finally began tugging at the edges of my mind. Horrific memories. I tried pushing them away, but now they refused to stay hidden.
A familiar roaring filled my ears as the events of Friday unfolded in my mind, completely eclipsing everything else.
“Mia, breathe,” Dr. Marshall said from the other side of the tunnel that separated us.
I willed myself to breathe. In, out. In, out. I slowly chanted in my head until the roaring subsided. “Will I ever be normal or am I always going to be crazy?” I finally whispered when I was able to breathe without hyperventilating.
“Mia, you are as normal as anyone. A person is not crazy. They can be mentally unstable or they can have a sickness that makes them believe something that is not true.”
“Which am I?” I asked, feeling more tears burning behind my eyes. Years without crying and now I couldn’t keep them at bay.
She pondered my question for a moment before answering. “Mia, you’re a beautiful soul who suffered a traumatic experience and because of that you see things that are not really there.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I mean that due to the trauma you suffered while growing up, your mind creates hallucinations to help you handle the trauma.”
I nodded my head. We’d already gone over this. That’s where my Mia had come from. It didn’t explain the others.
“Your mind has provided you a safety net to help when you enter an atmosphere you’re ill-equipped to handle. This is not your fault, Mia. We pushed you when you weren’t ready. Sending you to school too soon was a decision I deeply regret. I was so intent on probing into your time growing up with Judy that I neglected what was happening right in front of me. Heather and the other friends you created stepped in to do the job I should have done. She protected you when you needed a protector. Until our last session, I had no idea things had escalated to the point they had at school. By the time your mom and I talked it over, it seemed we had waited too long to intervene. We failed you. More importantly … I failed you. I’m sorry for that.”
“How could they feel so real?” I asked, running a finger along the metal bed rail. “How could I have whole conversations with someone who didn’t even exist? I don’t understand a
ny of this.” I sounded like a child.