Unravel(25)

“Naomi,” Dr. Rutledge says. “Keep taking deep breaths.”

I listen to her and make myself slowly breathe in and out.

In and out.

In and out.

I suck up all the air I can get and the pain slowly fades.

When I look up at Dr. Rutledge she nudges her head toward her desk. There’s a cup of water sitting there. I grab it and gulp it all down.

I cradle it between both hands. Her chair creaks as she leans close.

Please, don’t make this worse than it already is, I think to myself.

“Can you tell me what happened back in group therapy?”

“No.”

My grip tightens on the glass.

“Can or won’t?”

“Won’t,” I say, my voice hard.

And for the first time since I’ve met Dr. Rutledge, she doesn’t say a word. She just sits there patiently, spinning a paper clip on her desk.

“I saw Lana’s dad,” I finally admit.

His face flashes through my mind.

“Did he say anything?”

I nod. “He was screaming at me. He kept calling me a bitch. Told me that my life was his…” My voice breaks.

“You are safe here. You know that, right? And Lana’s safe too. Her dad can’t hurt her anymore.”

Lana’s name makes me sit up straight and I start to tremble. “How do you know that?”

Dr. Rutledge shifts in her chair. “I’ve spoken to her,” she admits.

“When?” My voice rises. “Where is she?”

She skips over my question like she never heard it.

“What happened to you today was just—”

“Where is she?” I interrupt.

“She’s in a safe place, that’s all I can tell you.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because you need to heal. You can’t fix her, Naomi, if you’re broken.”

Her words hit me hard. I’m supposed to be the pillar of strength for Lana and without that, who am I really?

I want to cry, but I hold myself together. One breakdown is enough for today.

“Everything you saw during group therapy was just your mind playing tricks on you.”

“He was there.” My voice shakes with conviction. “I saw him. I felt him grabbing me.”

“He wasn’t there,” she enunciates each word carefully.

I use the same tone. “He was.”

I know we can keep going back and forth. But what it all boils down to is Dr. Rutledge is the sane one.

Not me. I’m the one locked away.

It’s my word against hers and I know everyone will believe her.

“Why don’t you go lay down, okay?” she suggests slowly. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning and we’ll pick up where we left off.”

I can barely think about right now let alone tomorrow.

So I nod and stand back up. “Okay.”

Dr. Rutledge opens the door for me. Mary steps forward and escorts me back to my room.

The rest of the night I’m in a complete daze.



10—DON’T DREAM

“It’s time to go, Naomi.”

I turn away from my window and stare at Mary. She stands in the doorway, tapping her foot impatiently. But there is no way in hell I’m going back to Dr. Rutledge.

I cross my arms and give her a level look. “No.”

Mary tilts her head to the side, a stern expression on her face. One that says, ‘Do we have to do this the hard way?’

For the past week this has become our routine. Mary tells me I need to go see Dr. Rutledge. I tell her no. Mary calls for assistance and another nurse helps drag me down the hallway. I struggle, trying to break out of their hold, but in the end I always find myself sitting across from Dr. Rutledge. After group therapy, I put a wall up, afraid that any other methods Dr. Rutledge had in mind would destroy me.

So she sits there, behind her desk, asking her typical questions:

“How are you?”

“Did you sleep well last night?”

“What are you thinking about right now?”

I never respond. I watch the clock tick the time away and it becomes a standoff. Me saying nothing, refusing to back down and Dr. Rutledge persistently talking, trying to get me to open up. In the end, I outlast Dr. Rutledge and she lets me leave. But I never leave her office feeling victorious, because the truth is that my nightmares have gotten worse. No matter where I go, I see him. Dr. Rutledge has upped my Ambien. It helps some but not enough.

I’m scared that soon the medicine will stop being my hiding place. I’m afraid that he’ll find me and rip me to pieces.

I walk around in a complete daze. The line between sane and insane is starting to become blurred. Everything is starting to confuse me. And the most terrifying thing of all is that I’m starting to become one of the patients that sits in the rec room, staring blankly at the television for hours on end.

I sigh and move away from the window. Today, I’m too tired to put up a fight.

Mary gives me an approving nod. She’s proud. She thinks this is a step in the right direction.

We walk slowly down the hallway, treating this like a stroll through the park. If you think about it, this stale air and the sterile walls really is my park.