Forsaken (3 page)

             
“Yes.” I tried to catch up with the sudden change of topic.  She shifted in her seat and scratched her head.  After a minute or so, I started to get a little uncomfortable with her intrusive stare.

“If you want, I can tell you who my last therapist was.  I’m sure they can send over my records…”
I offered with slight irritation.

             
“No, no that’s not necessary,” she replied, quickly.  “Tell me more about this dream you had when you blacked out”.  I explained the dream to her in detail and waited for her to prescribe me Prozac.  Instead, she sat back and stared at me again.

             
“Hannah, I’m going to refer you to one of my colleagues.” She smiled and sat up straighter in her chair, proud of herself.  “I think she’d like to talk to you.” Wonderful.  Just wonderful.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make a quick
phone call.”  She stood and walked out of the office, closing the door behind her.  While she was gone, I watched the exotic fish swim laps within their rectangular prison.  I got the urge to feed them or maybe release them back into the ocean where I was sure they had been stolen from.  Seeing a jar of fish food under the tank, I tentatively ambled over and peered through the thick glass.

“Anybody hungry?” I
questioned them in a ridiculous baby voice usually reserved for puppies.  They immediately stopped doing laps and darted up toward the surface. “I guess that’s a yes.” I lifted the lid and shook some of the multi-colored flakes into the water.

“What are you doing?”
  I dropped the lid with a loud bang and raced back to my chair.  Dr. Hansen watched me curiously.

“I’m sorry, I thought they might
be hungry, so….”  I trailed off, feeling foolish.

“From the looks of it,
I’d say you were right.” Her smile was full of understanding.  I glanced back at the tank to see that the flakes had already been gobbled up.  The fish followed my every movement, hoping for more.

“They w
ould probably eat all day long if I’d let them.” She gazed at the fish with tenderness, as she sat back down.  “Well I just spoke to Dr. Campbell and I’m happy to tell you she has an opening later this afternoon!”

I wasn’t sure if she was expecting me to celebrate with her, so I
just replied, “Okay.”

“You’ll need to tell
Dee right away because it will take 4 hours to get down there, and I can’t imagine she wants you to drive that far by yourself.”

“Four hours?” Why c
ouldn’t she have a colleague in Atlanta?

“Dr. Campbell
’s office is located down in Savannah.  Have you ever been there?  It’s a beautiful city.”

She
was probably still talking but I had already stopped listening.  She was sending me all the way to Savannah?  Today?  To talk to another doctor?  This couldn’t possibly get any worse.

              “Savannah?!  Today?!” I moved my cell phone back from my ear several inches so Dee’s voice wouldn’t break my ear drum.

             
“That’s what she said.” I read over Dr. Hansen’s messy handwriting again, “My appointment is scheduled for 4:00pm.”

             
She sighed and took a deep breath. I could tell her blood pressure had increased in the five minutes we’d been talking.  “Okay, I’ll cancel my plans and be home as soon as I can.”

             
“Thanks Dee, I’ll see you soon.”  I didn’t want to go to Savannah any more than she did, but it didn’t look like we had a choice.  Apparently, my issues were that severe.  The dream was odd, sure, but I didn’t expect them to slap me with a psych ward bracelet just yet.  Or maybe that’s where she was sending me.  Maybe ‘Dr. Campbell’ was code for a straight jacket and padded walls. It might not be too bad.  Instead of pity and sympathetic looks, they would just give me a shot of something strong to knock me out for a few hours. I could live with that.

             
Five hours later, we finally pulled into Savannah.  I’d only been there twice before.  Once when I was fourteen for a St. Patrick’s Day family trip, and once before that when I was too young to remember.  From what I’d been told, I was left on the porch of the Police Station on Skidaway Island, which was located several miles southeast of Savannah.  Unfortunately, they didn’t know where I had been born or who had dropped me off; just that I was discovered when I was approximately 8 months old.  I tried not to think about what could drive a person to abandon their own flesh and blood.  Thankfully, the Sheriff found me when he came into work that morning.  I was turned over to the state, put into foster care, and the rest was history.  Anytime I thought about it, I was overcome with so many emotions; I had no choice but to push those thoughts out of my mind. Even if I had wanted to find my real parents, it would have been impossible.  There were no records of my birth, so there was no way to track them down.  Even my birthday, April 17th, was a guesstimate based on how old I appeared to be when they found me. 

             
“Looks like we made it!”  Dee wove through the already heavy traffic towards downtown Savannah.  On the outskirts of the city, it could have been any other place in America with gas stations, McDonalds, and a Starbucks on every corner.  But once we entered the city in earnest, the history and beauty were hard to ignore. As we passed beneath the canopies of the mangled live oak trees, I gawked at the 19
th
century buildings and cobblestone streets of the historic district.  Finding somewhere to park near the River Walk was no simple task, however.  We found a small spot between a massive truck and even larger SUV and finally found the door to Dr Campbell’s office on River Street.

             
“Go have a seat and I’ll take care of everything,” Dee assured me.  The receptionist area had a simplistic beach theme with wooden pelicans and bright seashells adorning the white wicker tables, while potted palm trees stood watch in the corners of the room.  I took a seat on one of the wicker chairs and picked up a magazine to read.  I got no further than the first page, when a swinging door opened, and a young woman with golden skin and jet black hair came out to greet us.  She appeared to glide across the floor in her long flowing cream-colored dress.  I caught a glimpse of purple toenail polish, several toe rings, and realized she was barefoot.  Her arms and hands were covered with silver bangles and rings of turquoise. Nothing about her resembled my vision of straight jackets and padded rooms which was instantly reassuring.

             
“You must be Hannah!”  She stepped around Dee and shook my hand with enthusiasm, “I’ve been looking forward to our visit ever since I got the call from Diane.”  Still grasping my hand, she led me back through the swinging door and into a large office.  Dee trailed behind us, watching her with skepticism.  Her office reminded me more of a small apartment, with one large room sectioned off into smaller areas.  To our left was a sitting area dominated by a ceiling-to-floor bookcase overflowing with old books. The aroma of hazelnut and cedar warmed my soul and I imagined the depth of knowledge stored in that one bookcase.  Toward the windows in the back was a small area full of toys for younger patients. The only thing missing was a big official desk that would look out of place anyway.  I found a fluffy circular chair to fall into and began to wonder how I’d gone my whole life without sitting in something this comfortable.  Dee took a seat on an elegant arm chair across from me.  Dr. Campbell gracefully sat in the other chair next to Dee and smiled at both us.

“Would you girls like some water or maybe a cup of coffee?”
She asked politely.  Her genuine personality contradicted my personal stereotype of psychologists. 

             
Dee instantly perked up, “I would love a cup of coffee.”

             
“How about a cappuccino?”

             
“That would be lovely!” With that one peace offering, Dee’s demeanor had taken a one hundred and eighty degree turn for the better.

             
“And for you Hannah?”

             
“Nothing for me, thank you,” I replied, anxious to get the session started and more importantly over with.

Dr. Campbell
floated over to a slight kitchenette on the right side of the room and began punching buttons on what looked to be a very impressive Cappuccino maker.  I could tell Dee was beginning to like her, too, or at least her taste in coffee.

             
After gingerly handing Dee a steaming cup, Dr. Campbell sat back down.

             
“Mrs. Whitman, I’m sure you’re aware as to how important patient/doctor confidentiality is, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside for a little bit, while Hannah and I talk.”

             
Dee seemed surprised at first, then gathered her purse, thanked her for the coffee, and walked back out into the lobby.  Once she was out of sight, Dr Campbell turned her undivided attention on me.

             
“So, Hannah,” she began leisurely, “tell me how old you are.”

             
“Seventeen.”

             
“And when did you start having nightmares and blackouts?” she asked, writing furiously on her notepad.

             
“How’d you know about my nightmares?”  I couldn’t help feeling paranoid.

             
“Just a guess.” She smiled encouragingly at me, but I felt there was something she wasn’t telling me.

             
“I used to have nightmares about normal stuff – people chasing me or falling.  But then about three years ago they started changing and becoming more…um…real?  And harder to forget.” I shrugged my shoulders, hoping to convince her it wasn’t a big deal.

             
“And the blackouts?” she prompted.

             
“I’ve never had them before last night.  That was the first time.  But it didn’t feel like a dream.  It seemed like something more.  I don’t really know how to explain it.”

             
“Your answer is perfectly fine.” She covered my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Looking down, she eyed the design on my wrist. 

“How do you…
?” She leaned in closer to get a better look. “I mean, how long have you had this?”

“For as long as I can remember
.  It’s just always been there,” I said.

“You don’t remember getting it?  Seems like something you’d remember.” I start
ed to feel like she was trying to catch me in a lie, so I decided she wasn’t going to get any more answers, no matter what she asked.

Giving my hand
another squeeze, she sat back in her chair in deep thought. “I’m going to step out for a minute and speak with Doris, alright?”

“Okay…” I
said with slight hesitation.  The visit really wasn’t making much sense to me so far.

She
gracefully rose from her chair and disappeared to find Dee.  A couple of minutes later, they walked back in and both sat down watching me with serious faces.  I had a bad feeling I wasn’t going to like what she had to say next. 

“After careful consideration,
Doris and I believe it would be in your best interest to be enrolled in a special boarding school for young people very much like yourself.” 

M
y mouth dropped open.  Did she really just say what I thought she said?  A boarding school?  And here I was thinking it couldn’t get any worse.  Boy was I wrong.  And what careful consideration?  She had only asked me four questions!

I
looked wide-eyed at Dee, wondering how she had been brainwashed in such a short amount of time.  I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing seemed to come out right. “But I….how can….I don’t….because of nightmares…the occasional fainting spell…?”

Dee
just gave me a loving smile, “You’re going to love it Hannah!  It’s called the House of Lorelei and it’s on an island up in North Carolina.  This is perfect timing because the new school year there starts next Monday!  It’s a year round school so you won’t miss a beat!” She clapped her hands together happily as if this was a good thing. “You’ll be able to come home during the holidays and on breaks.  And the best part is Dr. Campbell has made all the preparations for you to move in immediately!  Isn’t that wonderful?”  No.  It wasn’t.  And I found it hard to believe that she made all of these ‘preparations’ in the three minutes she left to talk to Dee. 

I cast an accusing
glare at the doctor and stood up, ready to argue. “What do you mean people like me?  You can’t just up and move me to a different state because you think it’s a good idea!  You don’t even know me!”  I could feel my face growing hot as my anger spilled over.

Slowly i
nching closer to me, the doctor placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and spoke softly. “But do you really
belong
there?”  She asked cryptically. “Trust me, Hannah.  I promise you won’t regret this.  Please trust me.”  I narrowed my eyes at her, instinctively looking for an ulterior motive, but found only genuine concern and a small gleam of excitement in her eyes.  For some reason I
wanted
to trust her.  Well, crap.

I sa
t back down and tried to sort out the confusion clouding my mind.  What could it hurt, really?  A new school - new people who knew nothing about me or my past.  A new start.  Wasn’t that what I’d been wanting? A new beginning?  I felt the fight go out of me and a brand new emotion took hold.  It felt a lot like….hope.