Dark Corners READY FOR PRC (6 page)

Finally the insipid airhead said that I could go into the office, a large and spacious room with a minimalist’s décor and two low and not so comfortable sofas. His desk had nothing on it except a lamp, not even a post-it note. Dr Livingston was seated on the edge of one of the sofas with a note pad. He was a small weasely looking man with short brown hair and small wire rimmed glasses. I sat on the other sofa as far away from him as possible and tried to be hostile.

“Not feeling social today, Ella?”

“I’m feeling perfectly social,” I said in a completely monotone voice

“Hmmm.”

I smiled and lifted my eyebrows slightly. It was a challenge to Dr. Livingston to make the first move in this game of chess. I normally gave in first because otherwise the hour lasted forever, but I liked to make him work for it. After a few minutes of silence and Dr. Livingston watching me expectantly, I broke.

“Why am I here?”

“That’s an interesting question.”

“I don’t get anything  out of these ‘sessions’ except for my anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and sleeping pills . . . I do like those.”

“Do you think you need them?”

“They make life easier. And if I didn’t need them, would you be prescribing them?”

“Is this life?”

“What do you mean?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Is this life, Ella?” he gestured wildly with his hands. “Do you have any other interaction during the week besides with me? Have you established or maintained any relationships? Are you just going through the motions?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business who I interact with. This town has nothing for me. No one has helped me. No one has stood by me.  Why should I reach out to them?”

“Because you’re human.  People need other people. It’s in our genetic makeup. You need people. No one is perfect, Ella. No one can stand up to the impossible standards you set for them, yourself included. Your friends lost Daniel too—you make no allowances for their pain.”

“They’re not my friends. Friends would have stood by me when everything was falling apart. I don’t need them nor do I want them in my life.”

“Then why stay?”

“I can’t leave until it is over,” I mumbled, no longer feeling like talking to him. He wouldn’t understand if I explained it to him. No one would.

“What’s over?”

“Danny’s case.”

“What if the killer is never caught?”

“Then I’ll stay forever.”

“Don’t you think Danny would want you to be happy, would want you to move on with your life?”

I laughed bitterly. “I’m sure he would—just like I want him to be alive. Looks like neither of us are getting what we want. I’m willing to compromise, but God hasn’t responded to my proposal yet—See there, doc, make a note. Check ‘bargaining’ off that chart of yours. I’m almost through all the phases now.”

Dr. Livingston ignored my rant. “You still believe a ghost did it?”

“I never said it was a ghost.”

“What was it?”

“Why do I constantly have to justify myself? I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Other people have been there. What do they say? You aren’t the only person to have lived in that house—why does no one else see what you see?”

“Are you feeling hostile today?”

“Why? Do you feel as if I am attacking you? You said you don’t feel like you’re getting anything out of this—”

I nodded.

“Well then you need to talk to me.  Even if you’re not ‘crazy’ you will soon be if you keep holding everything inside.” Dr. Livingston is totally an air quotes type of person who watches too much Dr. Phil.

I closed my eyes and strained to maintain patience. “I don’t care what other people think or feel. I felt this from the moment I stepped into that house two years ago—something there is evil.”

“It’s just a house.”

“I’m at its mercy.”

“Weren’t you at its mercy before Daniel died?”

“No, it’s gotten worse. Now things are happening every day, every night. I never have a break. When Danny was around it was less frequent; the situation is escalating.”

“Ella, have you reconsidered a stay in the hospital. Just for a while, give yourself time to work out some of your grief and anger.”

“A hospital will not help me anymore than those antipsychotics you put me on did, because I’m not crazy. I’m telling the truth, but you aren’t listening.”

“I think we need to increase the frequency with which we meet.”

“No. I don’t want to come any more than I already do. You cannot help me. I’m not fixated. This is not a delusional break. I simply have to figure it out on my own.”

Dr. Livingston’s egg timer went off in his head. He looked up at me. “We’ll discuss this further next week.” He tore my prescriptions off from his note pad and handed them to me. “And please consider upping your sessions to twice a week. I think we’ve started to make some progress today. You spoke more this afternoon than you have in your last three appointments.”

Outside his office I felt myself being pulled away into another memory. These memories were like land mines in my imagination. If I wasn’t careful, I’d drift away into the past and never come back. Sometimes I lost hours when that happened.

It was too late to stop this one, however.

Chapter Five

 
“Ella.” I felt a finger rub the end of my nose. “Ella,” the voice said again.

I opened my eyes to see Danny leaning over me. “What time is it?” I asked groggily.

He shrugged. “You’re having a nightmare.”

My dream came back to me. It was horrible. There was a strange man in our house and he wanted to kill me. I was running and running, but could not get away. He found me everywhere I hid. I was hiding when Danny woke me up.

Similar nightmares had plagued me since we moved in, but this was the first night my dream woke him up.

I tried telling Danny about the dreams, but he only teased me later. He didn’t understand because he didn’t feel the uncomfortable vibe the house gave off. He was so happy to be starting fresh and doing something he loved. I never knew how handy he was until we started renovating. It appeared I’d married a person who was absolutely wonderful at everything he did.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I hardly remember it.” I lied.

“It must have been violent—you were kicking and crying for help.”

“I really don’t remember anything.”

He shrugged and lay back down, wrapping his arms around me as I rolled to rest my head on his shoulder. His hand gently rubbed a small circle on my back until I drifted back off to sleep.

When I next woke, it was morning and the sun was bright through the window. Stretching my stiff muscles I noticed that Danny’s side of the bed was already vacant. I listened for him in the bathroom, but was met with only silence. Navigating my way downstairs through the boxes and clutter, I sleepily appraised the never ending task in front of us. We’d been there two weeks, but were still trying to fit our stuff in and decide what we wanted to keep of the old. Every closet or corner I looked in held something new and unfamiliar. I found Danny in the kitchen eating cereal, reading the newspaper.

“Mornin’ sunshine—anymore bad dreams last night?”

“Nope, slept like a baby.” And it was true. Piper heard the sound of my voice and raced in from her bird watching out of the library window. She jumped against my legs, begging to be picked up. I scooped her into my arms and snuggled her.

“And how did you sleep last night, Piper?” Piper tilted her fuzzy head and looked at me questioningly before she licked her nose and took to chewing on my hand that was petting her. I kissed the top of her head and set her back on the floor. She happily trotted out of the kitchen and back to her self-appointed post in the library.

Danny walked over to give me a bear hug. “If only you were that open with other people.”

I rolled my eyes and swatted him. Suspicion came naturally to me. I didn’t trust most people because most people didn’t deserve to be trusted. Danny was always the life of the party, and I was always the girl on the outskirts talking to a couple people I already knew. It was amazing we ever got together.

“If other people were as trust worthy as dogs, I wouldn’t have a problem,” I replied. “And I’ve been trying. I was nice to those people at the hardware store, the Daniels.”

“Yeah, they seemed nice and young. We should invite them over for dinner some evening.”

I made a face.

“What happened to being nice?” Danny asked.

“Being nice is one thing, but we’re nowhere near having this house ready for guests.” I looked around at the boxes and piles everywhere. The kitchen table was so full we couldn’t even sit down for a meal.

“Then we can go out to dinner.”

“Fine.”  I shrugged nonchalantly. Some people make friends easily; I was not one of those people. Danny loved to have big groups of people around so I would try for him. I was fonder of intimate settings, though maybe the house would seem less looming with a crowd.   Or, perhaps, if I didn’t feel so alien in this town, I’d feel more comfortable in general . . .  It would be good for me. What could it hurt?

“Excuse me.” A voice came from behind me pulling me out of the cloud of melancholy hovered over me. I stepped to the side to let the woman pass. Why did I never feel better after leaving Dr. Livingston’s office than when I arrived? I was making my way distractedly through the maze of hospital hallways to the elevator, when  a booming, triumphant voice brought me back to reality—or at least got me to peer through the prison bars of my mind.