Opening the folder to the notes section, I start scribbling down the events leading up to her reveal. Her description of the children was almost exactly the same as my childhood nightmares. I make sure to describe the monsters’ eyes and claws we both remember. The only difference between our experiences seems to be The Leader.
Emily described him as being compassionate and responsive to her. My version of The Leader is a reclusive observer. Never once did he interact with me, and a small part of me is thankful for that. Why is the Leader different in Emily’s nightmare?
After I note the descriptions, I have to include her confession of attempting to harm herself. I write her exact wording when she responded to my question of why, knowing it is important. The Leader saved her from herself. It makes no sense that The Leader of these grotesque demons would save a little girl from ending her life to escape them.
Did he save her just to continue tormenting this sweet child?
Looking over my scribbled notes, I notice affection towards Emily from The Leader. How could this be? Maybe she was too mortified by the figures haunting her to accurately recall all the details. I put a side note to ask her about the scene again to see if there are any changes to her views of The Leader. There has to be an explanation and I will find out what it is.
After a long conversation with the family doctor for the Frosts, I close her file and put it back in my briefcase. As I slide it in, I get a paper cut. Wincing, I pull my finger back, sucking it into my mouth to soothe the burning sensation. My thoughts flit to the image of my mom sitting in a pool of her own blood in the kitchen as I scream for someone to help. My dad leaves me at the house by myself as they rush to the emergency room. When they get home, my dad yells at me for causing my mom to harm herself as she sits on the couch with bandages on her arms. I was eight years old at that time.
I shake my head and pound on the desk to clear my thoughts. Pain shoots up my arm and helps clear my mind for a moment, but the memories just keep flooding back. Stacy calmly opens the door then shuts it behind her. As she turns back to me, her eyes are filled with worry.
“Dr. Janet? Are you okay?” She walks towards me and places a hand on my arm.
I hang my head and tears hit my desk. “I just need a few more minutes to compose myself. Is Jason out there?” I force myself to lift my head to meet her eyes.
“Yes, they just arrived. I’ll make small talk until you’re ready. Don’t rush yourself. Just call the desk and I'll send him into the therapy room.” She squeezes my shoulder and turns to walk out.
“Stacy… Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, Dr. Janet.” She smiles and leaves the room.
I sit down and rub my face with the heels of my hands. I need to get myself together.
I am a child psychologist. I need to compose myself so that I can help these children, not cry over my childhood. Self-pity has no place in this office or my life.
I fix my make-up in my handheld mirror and then stand up, breathing deeply. My nose is a little stuffy from crying so I tend to that and make the call to Stacy.
“I’m ready.”
My appointments throughout the day pass quickly. I can’t shake the thought of Emily trying to hurt herself, but I have to focus on my other patients. After Jason left, Samuel came in. They are both extremely close to facing their monsters and at the point of talking through all their fears so they can confront them head on. They make me proud with how strong and willing they are.
After their sessions, it is time for lunch and a much needed break. Stacy and I walk to the Chinese food place down the street we frequent once a week. We’re seated at one of the corner booths in the back to get a semblance of privacy. We chat about redecorating the office and a potential patient.
His parents told Stacy that he has night terrors that keep him up several nights a week. He isn’t scared of the dark, so the terrors can be anything. His name is Conner Bryce and she told his parents we would meet the following week to talk about him becoming a patient.
Our food is served quickly and I can’t wait to dig in. Their General Tso’s chicken is the best on this side of town. I stuff a big piece into my mouth and would’ve moaned if I had room to. Spicy flavors explode on my tongue and the crispy coating crunches as I eat. I am in food heaven.
“Don’t forget to breathe while you’re stuffing your face,” Stacy comments with a smile.
I cover my mouth with a napkin and giggle. I have to chew for a few moments before I can respond, which makes her laugh even more. “I’m sorry, my appetite is in full force apparently.”
“It’s not a problem. I enjoy their food as much as you do, but with a more ladylike approach.” She winks and I blush.
We polish our plates and sit back with full bellies. “That was extremely satisfying,” I murmur. My eyes threaten to drift down. Sleep is calling my name loudly.
“That it was. I believe a nap is in order once we get back to the office,” she comments as she sinks down even more into the booth. I almost can’t see her over the table. The check comes with fortune cookies and Stacy picks one hastily. She breaks it open and pulls out the small paper from the mess, reading it out loud. “The love you yearn for will come to pass sooner than you think. Hmm, I don’t recall ‘yearning’ for love but I’ll take it!”
We laugh and I put my card on the check as I grab the other cookie. I break it open and the paper falls to the table. I pick it up, flattening it out. “Your dreams will come true.” The smile falls from my face and the delicious food in my stomach tries to make reappearance in a not-so-delicious way.
“Well, let’s hope your dreams are full of beaches, alcohol, and a gorgeous, redheaded man that adores you. You need a vacation, Dr. Janet.” Stacy smiles at the waitress as she brings back the receipt and my card and wishes us a good day. All I can do is stare at the fortune in my hand.
After lunch, I see two more patients who seem to be at the end of their therapy sessions. I have given them the tools they need to overcome their nightmares and they are progressing greatly. Soon, I will stop the sessions and check in monthly until they are completely over their fears and moving on with their lives.
I pack up the file and clean the remaining toys in my office with Stacy. We straighten up and turn off the lights. I lock the office and we walk to the elevator together.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m so ready for a hot bubble bath and a big mason jar of wine,” she comments while we watch the button light up for the ground floor.
“Oh, believe me, I am,” I reply. It is going to take more than that to end this day.
“Good night, Dr. Janet. I’ll see you in the morning,” she says as she waves and walks to her car.
“Bye, Stacy. Have a good evening,” I reply on the way to my car.
Focusing on the road is no easy task as I drive home. Emily’s session that morning won’t leave my head. My mind keeps replaying the lies spilling from my tongue and the hope shining in her eyes. I blink back tears as guilt threatens to swallow me whole.
A horn blares and jerks me back into the present. I swerve back into my lane and wave an apology to the driver of the oncoming car. I can read the obscenities being thrown at me through the window.
My attention now fully back on the road, I turn on my windshield wipers as big drops of rain begin to fall. The rest of my drive is uneventful and I soon find myself parking on the curb in front of my house.
I cover my head with my purse and run to the front door. As I slip the key into the lock, I hear a scratching noise coming from inside my house. My heart fills with ice and my hands begin to shake. The lock wouldn’t move fast enough and I burst through the door to find Max whimpering and shaking by the entryway table.
“Max!” I yell as I drop everything in the doorway and crouch next to him. I pull him into my arms and feel his body shaking. It reminds me of Emily during our session and another wave of guilt flows through me. I speak to him calmly and soothe his trembling frame as my mind races to figure out how a police trained dog could be in such a state.
In the three years I've had Max, I have never seen him scared of anything. He retired from the police department and I adopted him soon after moving into my new house. His whimpers die down and he starts licking my hand.
“That’s my boy,” I coo. “Apparently, we’ve both had a rough day. I’ll make us something special to eat.”
As soon as I say eat, Max jumps up and runs to the kitchen. I shut the front door, chuckling, and make my way to the kitchen to start our special meal. I put on my headphones as I power up my iPod. I need music to drown out the overwhelming feelings threatening to punch through the surface.
I sing along to Make Waves by Tech N9ne when I feel something touch my leg. I swat my hand in the direction of what I thought was Max, but my hand didn’t touch anything. I pull off my headphones and look behind me. Nothing is in the kitchen.
A chill runs up my spine and goose bumps break out over my skin. I turn off my iPod and listen for any noises in my house other than the meat cooking in the skillet. After a few moments of nothing, I go back to cooking our dinner, but decide to leave my music off. I am not going to be snuck up on again.
I set out Max’s dinner and make my plate fifteen minutes later. The smell of steak and broccoli fills my house. Dinner is delicious and I send my compliments to the chef. Giggling at my own joke, I realize how lonely I am. I don’t want to call Coby and worry him over my highly emotional state, but I need him.
“Hey there, my sweetheart.”
“Hey, baby. I just needed to hear your voice. I’ve had the worst day and I’m completely drained,” I say into the receiver.
“What’s wrong?”
“I had to have an emergency session this morning and it was extremely emotional,” I reply and wipe a hand down my face.
“Do you want me to come over? I can be there soon.”
I hug myself and smile. “No. Max and I are leaving the house for a jog. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow for our date.”
“Okay, baby. Call me if you need me again. I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too,” I reply as I end the call.
I put on Max's leash and we head out into the dusky evening. The rain had stopped but left the air thick with humidity and a slight chill in the wind. I wrap my jacket around my middle as Max bounds through the grass, reminding me of how much he enjoys our evening walks.
I decide to cut our walk short because the stress of the day won’t stop weighing me down. The sun is setting in the sky and shadows are overtaking the streets. A breeze shifts my hair into my eyes and I have to stop to sort through the thick mess. Max sits next to me with his tongue lolling to the side as I try, unsuccessfully, to put the strands back in place.
I keep a stash of treats in my jacket pocket so I give one to Max as we start off again. “That was for waiting so patiently like the good boy you are,” I whisper and scratch behind his ears. As we round the corner to our street, Max starts to growl. His hackles rise and his stance drops low.
I kneel beside him and his low growl reverberates through me. “What is it?” I can see his form shaking slightly. Something catches my eye and I look to see the bushes lining the street shaking as if something is running through them. The faint sound of laughter pierces my ears like an ice pick.
I soothe Max as best as I can as my ears strain, trying to catch the sound again. A rock forms in my stomach while I smooth down Max’s fur. A gust of wind moves the bushes and I sigh. I start to wonder if I heard anything at all, but Max’s trembling body makes me realize it was all too real.
My legs are shaky and unsteady as I stand. I focus on talking to Max to soothe him as we quickly make our way back home. I see a glass of wine in my near future. I can’t walk fast enough to make that future happen.
We make it back to the house and I relax slightly. Wine glass in hand, I pop in Rin Tin Tin, our favorite movie, and we settle on the couch, ready to unwind. Max always prances around the house after our movie thinking he is a hero. I let him believe what he wants and always tell him he is my hero. Furious licks to the face follow every time.
“Thanks Max. Now I have to shower.”
As if on cue, Max runs to his mat beside my bed. The hot water relaxes and invigorates me as only a shower can. The smell of vanilla and lavender wafts up from the soap bottle and I gladly let it soak into my pores. I really need to relax in a bath, but that would have to wait for another night.
I step out of the shower and as I towel off, I slip on the comfy slippers I keep tucked beside the vanity. Life’s little comforts. I dress in my sports bra and panties, looking at my reflection in the mirror. It’s hard not to notice the dark circles under my eyes contrasting against my skin. I shake my head as I exit into my room.
I really should get more rest.
Max is still there waiting for me. I scratch his head and plant a kiss between his ears then slide between the sheets. My eyes can’t wait to be shut for the night. I hear Max lay on the floor and sigh. With a smile, I roll over and close my eyes.
This dream seems different from the others. There is a sense of foreboding, but all is silent and still. Suddenly, the door to my closet begins to slowly open. I hold my breath, eyes glued to the door. A small shadow moves from the back of the closet.