“I’ve called her mother and she’s terribly worried. I told her not to come. I’m having us flown out of here in a few hours.” Mrs. Montgomery’s voice sounded concerned.
“How are Miranda and Wyatt?” Leif asked before fingers gently caressed my arms. I knew it was his touch.
“Both are doing fine. Miranda’s fine. She’s very worried about Pagan. I reassured her Pagan was just resting.” There were a few minutes of silence. I let the caressing touch from Leif comfort me. It helped fight the horror I was only barely containing. I knew there was pain waiting for me but I wasn’t ready to face it.
“Honey, is she always this unstable? I realize it was a horrible thing to witness, but for her to completely fall apart like this, well, do you think she has some mental issues you might be unaware of?” Leif didn’t say anything at first and I wondered if he’d shook his head or shrugged.
I heard him sigh. “I don’t know, Mom,” he said quietly.
Leif always seemed completely blind to my problems. I’d always wondered if he’d just not noticed the way I’d stare and watch things he couldn’t see. Then there were my major mood swings he always seemed to overlook. Maybe he’d seen more than I realized. A swell of panic tightened my chest as I realized that I may be losing Leif too. This time he wouldn’t be able to ignore my serious issues. I wasn’t normal. I never had been.
“You may need to really think about your relationship with her. It isn’t healthy to get involved with someone who is this emotionally vulnerable. People this weak emotionally can be dangerous.” Leif‘s hand stopped caressing my arm.
“I didn’t ask your opinion. Don’t say things like that about Pagan ever again. Do you understand me? Nothing is wrong with her that is dangerous or harmful. She just feels deeper than others.”
I thought of how deeply I loved Dank and I couldn’t argue with him. I did feel more deeply than was normal.
“I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have said anything but this is just concerning for a mother, that’s all. I want what is best for you. Make sure she is.”
I wanted to open my eyes and say ‘Listen to your mother.
I’m not good for you Leif,’ but I didn’t. Because I was selfish and scared.
Chapter Fifteen
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been back home. Time kind of seemed to roll on continuously. No night or day. Getting out of bed seemed almost impossible at times. In my dreams, Dank was there. I just wanted to sleep. Talking was something I just wasn’t ready for.
I’d seen the questions and concern in Leif’s eyes on the flight home but I hadn’t spoken to him. I hadn’t wanted to face him now that he knew I had issues, even if he didn’t really know what they were. He thought I was crazy and that wasn’t my problem at all. My problem was I loved someone I couldn’t have. I saw souls who wandered the Earth lost and I’d been attacked by a soul who was intent on killing me. I was the only person who remembered Dank Walker had gone to our school and if I brought up his name again everyone would really think I’d lost my mind. So, yes, I had issues, but not psychiatric ones. I had supernatural ones.
A knock on my bedroom door startled me and I turned to stare at the closed door, knowing it was my mother. My very worried mother. How could I explain to her I was hurting so deeply I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to recover? There was a loss in my life like nothing I’d ever known.
“Come in.” My voice sounded hoarse from lack of use. My mother opened the door slowly and stuck her head inside as if to take in the atmosphere before walking all the way in.
“You not up to going to school this morning?” she asked with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes.
I’d forgotten what day it was but I knew I wasn’t ready to face school. I wasn’t ready to face Leif or Miranda or Wyatt. I needed to remain in my room and find the strength inside me to keep living. I shook my head and she gave up the pretense of smiling, a worried frown creasing her forehead.
“Honey, you’ve missed a week of school so far. I have let you stay in here hoping you would overcome the trauma you’ve experienced. But now I’m getting worried you aren’t going to pull out of this. I’ve been studying your symptoms on the internet and you have all the signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. You’re having horrible nightmares and screaming out in your sleep, yelling for dank or sank or crank—I can’t understand it through the sobs. You won’t leave your room and you aren’t taking calls or visitors. When I try to talk to you it’s like you black out on me. You aren’t listening to me.”
I sat there listening to her. I was suffering from having my heart shattered, broken beyond repair, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. I just stayed silent. She seemed to take my silence as encouragement. “I’ve made a few calls and I got you an appointment with a psychiatrist. I need you to go talk to her. She’s really good and works with teenagers solely. She comes very highly recommended and we don’t have to tell anyone you’re going to see her.” Tears sprang into my mother’s eyes. She swiped at them and let out a ragged breath. “I…the truth is, I should have sent you years ago.
When you were little you would talk about the people in the walls. I thought it was your imagination but now I wonder if somehow you have some unbalanced chemicals and this trauma you’ve experienced has triggered something.” She sniffed. “You talk to yourself at night in here. I hear you speaking to someone. Honey, you need some help.” I nodded. I knew it would ease her fear. She was so worried and I couldn’t explain any of this to her without her truly thinking I was insane.
She smiled through her tears and nodded. “Okay good.
I’ll give you some time but you need to get up and get a shower. Then get dressed and we will ride over to see Doctor Hockensmith. She’s expecting us today.” I nodded again and watched as my mother left the room, leaving the door open as a reminder I needed to get up. I had just agreed to go see a psychiatrist. My mother was wasting her money but I knew I had to go or she was going to need to see a psychiatrist from the stress I was putting on her emotionally. I hated that I was upsetting her but I couldn’t seem to see a way out of the despair consuming me.
* * * *
The large, two-story, white stucco house stood on stilts facing out over the Gulf of Mexico. My mom slowed down and stared up at the house large enough to hold at least five families comfortably. But then, it wasn’t a house for a family.
The cheery house on the beach was a place to heal for female teens suffering from psychiatric issues. I glanced over at my mom, who was waiting on me to make the first move. She’d packed my things with me in silence after I’d agreed with the psychiatrist that I was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and needed help. I’d been ready to agree to anything to get me out of the office where it was obvious she really wanted me to change personalities on her or admit to cutting myself. I wasn’t a psychopath and this seemed to be the one diagnosis she’d given me I was okay with lying about.
“Do you want to make a few phone calls before we go get you settled in? One of the rules is you can’t have your phone here.” Mom’s expression told me she was afraid the news of no phone was going to be a deal breaker for me. I nodded thinking of Leif and Miranda. I needed to let them know where I would be for a while. Mom nodded. “Okay. I’ll start taking your bags on up and getting you all checked in.” She said the words with a small hiccup as if she were about to break down and cry. She’d handled this all so well and been so strong, thinking this was what I needed.
I reached over and took her hand and squeezed it tightly.