Existence (Existence Trilogy #1)(47)

“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.

“Mom, I’m okay with this. I think it’s going to help me. Don’t look so upset. It’s all going to be okay.” She nodded with tears filling her eyes. I knew I had to get better for her. I had to find a way to live with the hole in my chest.

Mom headed up the stairs with my bags in her hands and I picked up my phone and dialed Miranda first.

“Well, it’s about flippen’ time I see your name pop up on my screen. Jeez! Pagan, you’ve been scaring me.” I smiled at the relief in her voice. “I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I’m waiting to be checked into this rehabilitation center for people with similar issues. I can’t keep my phone but I was told I could have visitors if you want to come see me sometime.” Miranda was silent and I started to wonder if my phone had dropped her call.

“So, they can fix you...I mean, this?” she asked slowly sounding as if she was terrified.

“Yes, they can.” I told her reassuringly. But I knew they couldn’t heal me. I would never be fixed. I would just learn to go through the motions of living so those I loved didn’t worry about me.

“Have you told Leif?” Her voice had lost its earlier cheer and I hated that it was my fault.

“No, I called you first.”

With a ragged sigh she said, “I love you.” I felt tears spring into my eyes for the first time. I loved her too. “Call Leif and I’ll be there to visit ASAP.”

“Okay. See you soon. Bye.” I pressed end and then called Leif.

“Pagan.” He sounded as relieved as Miranda had.

“Hey you,” I said, needing to reassure him before I dealt him the same news I’d just given Miranda.

“You feeling better today? I hope so, Pagan, because I’m missing you like mad.” I smiled at the warmth his voice always caused.

“I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Leif. I went to see a psychiatrist.”

“What is that? Are they giving you medicine to fix it?” His voice sounded panicked.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. I’m having trouble functioning normally due to the trauma we all experienced.

You all handled it normally. I didn’t. It could be a chemical imbalance; they’re not sure. But I’m going to be in a psychiatric center for a while. They’re supposed to be able to fix me here. I’m not going to be able to keep my phone but I can have visitors.”

Leif seemed to be taking a deep breath. “So I can come see you? How long will you be there?”

“Yes, you can, and I’m not sure yet.”

“I’m sorry this is happening to you, Pagan. I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded full of pain and guilt.

“Listen to me, Leif. I’m dealing with this because of things that are wrong with me. What we saw just triggered it.

I’ll get better.” I needed to hear that lie as much as he did.

After reassuring him several more times I hung up and left my phone on the passenger seat of the car. My overnight bag was all that was left in the back seat so I grabbed it and headed up the stairs to my new home, at least for now.

* * * *

The pale yellow room I’d been assigned contained one small round window overlooking the beach. I’d hugged my mother goodbye downstairs thirty minutes ago. I reminded myself I was doing this for her. It would help her deal with her fears of my being crazy. And being away from my bedroom, where so many memories of Dank existed, would help me find a way to live without him. An older lady stood outside on the sand with a bag of what looked like sandwich bread, throwing it into the air while seagulls circled her head. Either she wasn’t a local and didn’t realize that was a really good way to get pooped on, or she was a psychiatric patient who was too mental to care about a little bird poop.

I turned away from the growing flurry of hungry birds and studied the small room at least half the size of a regular bedroom. Considering this place held twenty-five patients at one time, and ten nurses and two doctors, the rooms couldn’t be too big even if the house was a really large two-story. A single bed sat in the middle of the room with a small, round, white table holding a shell-covered lamp. One single oval mirror hung on the wall over a dresser with three drawers. A very small closet, only large enough to hang up fifteen items and hold three pairs of shoes, was on the opposite wall. I was only allowed one hour in my room during the day. I could use it all at one time or spread it out throughout the day. It was their way of keeping patients surrounded by other people. Seclusion bred depression was their rule of thumb around here.

I glanced over at the small alarm clock they’d left on the round table. I had used up ten of my minutes in my room. I needed to go walk around and be seen so I would have time left to come back later. I walked into the hallway and closed my door behind me. The small key they’d given me was in my pocket and I locked my door. Apparently, there was cause to worry about theft with some of the patients. You weren’t allowed to bring anything of value with you but those suffering from personality disorders would take anything and I needed my clothing. I’d only been allotted a small amount and I needed what I had.