Before The Storm (2 page)

Mrs. Newington raises her eyebrows now as if she’s able to read my thoughts. I force myself not to break eye contact first, hearing Eric’s reassuring voice in my head,

“You can do this, you can do anything. You’re stronger than you think.”

“Okay,” the Director of Admissions says, I think his name is Mr. Wilson. “Let’s get started, shall we?” He looks at Dr. Morgan pointedly, basically letting her know that it’s time to get the show on the road.

“Right, right. Shall we?” Dr. Morgan says, opening up one of the envelopes and shifting through the papers inside.

“I’ll start,” Mrs. Newington says, not touching anything in front of her. “I have some notes here,” she says, still not taking her eyes off of me.

“Well, I think we should let Victoria speak first,” Dr. Morgan says in a matter of fact way. “I believe she has earned it.”

If looks could kill my doctor would probably be heaving over in pain right now, since Mrs. Newington is shooting fire at her from across the table. Everyone else is looking directly at me, and I know I have the floor.

I swallow slowly, praying the sweat won’t drip down my face and show how uneasy I am. My pulse slows and I picture Eric’s face in my mind, which, unfortunately, isn’t helping any. Picturing his face and replaying his words isn’t calming me down at all, and I can feel myself starting to sweat harder. My pulse begins to race at a crazy speed and with each intense gaze I feel like I’m about to crack.

I don’t, however. Because another face slips into my mind. A face that I can’t get out of my mind no matter what it is I’m feeling. It’s Nathan. This is who makes me feel alive, who makes me feel like I matter, who makes me feel like maybe I’m going to be okay after all. I can feel him almost like he’s here with me. Almost like he’s holding my hand, telling me that I can do this. My body starts to adapt to my surroundings and I know I’m getting out of here. No matter what it takes, I’m going home. I’m getting back to him, today. It’s no longer a want. It’s a need. I gather my thoughts and begin to speak.

“When I first got here, I didn’t think I belonged here. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with me. I thought you guys were the crazy ones.” I deliver this last part like I feel awful even thinking this.

“I’ve realized though, that it wasn’t me thinking those things, it was my denial.

My mom was my best friend. I literally told her everything. And when I lost her I didn’t really know how to deal with it. I was really messed up and I didn’t think anyone could help me, so I just curled up into a shell. When my stepbrother came along it was the perfect excuse for me to act out, the perfect excuse for me to release all the tension and pain that I had been keeping inside of me. I realize all of this now. And I also realize that it was wrong.”

I pause before I say the next part, not because I’m nervous anymore, but because to even say it brings pain to my whole body. To even think it makes me feel like I could be sick. “I know now that I didn’t really feel anything for Nathan. It was just an outlet for the emotions I had never dealt with after I lost my mom.”

My heart stings as I say the words out loud, but I force myself to go on anyway.

“I’ve learned so much here, and while I know I have a lot more to learn, I think I’m ready to take the tools I’ve received here and put them to use on my own. Clearly, I want to continue therapy from home. I think I’m ready to build my life up again.”

It’s exactly what Eric and I had rehearsed. I deliver it without a single stutter, without a single flaw. I know if he could see me now he’d be so proud of me. And I think Nathan would be proud of me too. Nathan. Just saying his name makes my heart jump out of my chest. Steady girl, I remind myself.

Dr. Morgan is the first one to speak after I do. “I have seen such progress from you in these past three months Victoria. The girl who came to us is a very different girl than the one sitting before us today. I have no doubt in my mind that you have all the tools necessary to succeed outside of these walls.”

I can feel the butterflies in my stomach start to fly around like crazy. I’m getting out of here, I’m getting out of here, I’m getting out of here.

“Well I disagree,” Mrs. Veronica says, “completely and totally disagree,”

And just like that a huge gray rock comes along and crushes all the beautiful butterflies flying around in every which direction, happy as can be in my stomach.

They’re dead, and quickly.

“She shows no type of progress to me. I have trouble telling if she says what she is really feeling or if she is saying what she thinks people want her to feel.”

“Ah,” Dr. Morgan says, “but I think I have a better sense of her from our one-on-one sessions than you get during whole group meetings. After all, I get to talk to her for an hour, three times a week, having her full attention. You only see her once a week, and you have a whole group of individuals you have to concentrate on.”

The butterflies start to slowly come back to life again, like maybe someone gave them CPR and they’re deciding whether or not it’s worth fighting to live or not.

“Are you implying the work I do in group isn’t as important as what you do during your one-on-one sessions?”

Yikes. Aren’t they supposed to have this shit figured out before they come in here? I mean, really.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we need a few minutes to ourselves here Victoria.

To discuss.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever heard the Vice President of the center speak. Even in the past two discussion conferences it’s always the Head of Admissions who delivers the final answer. Now, I don’t know much, but I do know enough to know that he doesn’t sound happy about me having to leave the room. I can tell by the look he gives the panel after he says this that a decision was supposed to have been made long before they entered this room. And now he’s going to have to take time out of his busy schedule to clean up their mess. It’s probably the only time in three months that I’ve seen Mrs.

Newington become a little nervous. And I almost feel badly for her. Almost.

“Why don’t you go wait in the hall Victoria,” Dr. Morgan says gently. “We’ll only be a minute.”

By a minute I guess she means thirty, because a half hour later I’m still sitting on the floor of the small hallway that leads to the conference room. It’s actually kind of annoying. And not just because every few minutes a staff member walks by and asks me what I’m doing just sitting out here, causing me to have to explain the situation, but mostly because every minute out here feels like an hour. Every tick in my head feels like a hammer pounding lightly on the inside of my brain. What could possibly be taking them so long? Don’t they know I’m out here and I might actually go insane soon?

Finally the door opens and Dr. Morgan tells me I can come back in. I try to read her face as I follow her back inside and sit down, but it’s blank. For a second I have the horrible feeling that she lost the battle. I mean, is she really any match for Mrs.

Newington? It seems like evil always overpowers good in this place.

“Well, Victoria,” Dr. Morgan says before anyone else has a chance to speak,

“we’ve decided it’s time for you to go home.”

And just like that I’m going home. Back to Angelina, back to my room, back to my school. But above all, back to Nathan.

Chapter Three

The words hit me so hard that I feel like I check out of reality. My heart is on the ceiling and my mind is on the floor as they all begin talking, telling me things about my recovery process, about what’s going to happen when I get back to school, but I’m not listening. Nothing they’re saying registers in my mind at all. I can see their mouths move, but it’s like no sound is coming out. It’s almost like I’m stuck in a twilight zone or something.

All I can see in my mind is Nathan. His face, his laugh, his arms, and how safe they make me feel. I’m going home to Nathan. I’m getting him back.

I consider reaching down to pinch myself, but decide against it. No need to show them that I fear this could be a dream. Only, I do feel that way. Like this is a dream, I mean. I had hoped for so long that this day would come, and now that it’s here I’m not sure how to deal with it.

The initial shock is short lived though. I suddenly have the feeling something is very wrong here. With all the static rolling around in my head, all the madness, I’m able to pick up on something. The word “aunt” seems to be rolling off Dr. Morgan’s tongue quite a bit. Aunt? I don’t even have an aunt.

Suddenly I’m filled with fear that they’ve somehow all lost it and have me confused with someone else. Well, no way in hell am I letting them take back what they just told me. If they want me to have an aunt, well then I’ll have an aunt. I try my best to push Nathan out of my mind and pay attention to what they’re saying.

“Now, it’s true this might be an adjustment, but your father and stepmother agree this is the best situation for you to be in right now, considering the complicated past you’ve had with your stepbrother while in that house.”

Shit, what might be an adjustment? Somehow they’ve gone from saying useless things to stuff that I might actually need to know. Also, my complicated situation with my stepbrother? They always talk about the situation like he’s some high-end lord and I’m the peasant from the wrong side of the village who snuck into his castle and seduced him night after night. Hello people, this is the twentieth century. People can fall for their stepsiblings. I’m sure it happens all the time. I mean I don’t know of anyone exactly, but still, I’m sure it’s more common than anyone thinks. Maybe.

“Now when your parents came here for our meeting they stated that they unfortunately had to be untruthful with the school about where you were. They did inform them of a type of family situation, this was so in the event that you did come back the teaching staff and principle would be a little more understanding about why you were behind.”

All of this is happening so fast, the room feels like it’s starting to spin. “My parents were here for a meeting?”

The Vice President of the wellness center suddenly looks a little uncomfortable.

“Well, it is custom to have a parental hearing with the family before a patient’s release date. To discuss how the treatment will continue once the patient is outside of the building.”

“My father and stepmother were in this building and they didn’t want to see me?”

I ask, bewildered.

Unbelievable. How can you send your child off to heal from an emotional breakdown, one that she didn’t even have, and then the only time you bother coming to the center you sent her to you don’t even want to see her? It makes my negative feelings toward them grow even more. Part of me wants to say I’m not ready, wants to get down on my knees and beg to stay here a little longer. But the thought of seeing Nathan again pushes those feelings right out of my mind, and fast.

“Well,” Dr. Morgan says stepping in calmly, using her shrink voice so I know what she’s about to say next is for my comfort, “it wouldn’t have really been appropriate.

Your aunt was here too. They may have even ridden here together, so there was really no time. Our main concern on that day was discussing what was in your best interest.”

What the fuck did they keep going on about an aunt for? I don’t even have an aunt. I want to say this but I’m scared to say anything that will screw this process up. It’s already messed up enough without me adding to it.

“Um, and why was my aunt allowed to be involved in the conversation about my life once I get home?”

Mrs. Newington roles her eyes as if to say, see I told you guys, she’s clearly completely and totally insane and should be here for the rest of her life.

“Why would your Aunt Jenna agree to let you come and stay with her for the remainder of the school year if she had no idea about what was going on with you Victoria?”

Stay with her? Stay with my Aunt Jenna? But I don’t even have an Aunt Jenna. I don’t have an aunt period. How can I stay with someone who doesn’t exist? I’m about to tell them the jig is up, that this whole thing is a huge misunderstanding, but Dr. Morgan speaks again before I have a chance to say anything else.

“Victoria, I know this isn’t exactly the situation you were hoping to walk into once you left here, but I believe it’s the right one for you. You get to go back to your school, to your town, to your life. It’s just a safety measure really, to make sure you succeed. Which, as I said, I believe you can do. She seems like a very kind woman.”

“Anyway,” Mrs. Newington says, starting to gather up her notes, “she’s here now.

So, if there’s nothing else we will give you some time to gather up your things.”

It’s all happening so fast. There all start to get up. Dr. Morgan looks at me hopefully, happily. I know that what I should say is that I don’t have an aunt. I should say I think there has been some huge misunderstanding and that I just need to go back to my room so they can figure out another arrangement, but then all I can see is that same white room, with that same single bed, and the same sleepless nights worrying about Nathan, so I decide not to say that. Instead I lie, just like I’ve been doing since I got here.

“No, no, there’s nothing else.”

* * *

I pace back and forth in front of the bed in my room. This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. How do I always manage to get myself into situations like this? How can I possibly be leaving to go live with an aunt that I don’t even have? Whoever she is, she’s going to know that I’m not who I say I am the second she sees me. I’m going to have a heart attack, and it’s going to push me over the edge. Literally, I’m going to die at seventeen. Stress can totally kill you. We learned about that in health class once, I think. I might just be making that up to make myself feel better, but whatever.

The door to my room bangs open and I jump about twenty feet into the air.

Fortunately, it’s only Eric.

“Whoa, easy killer,” he says, closing the door behind him and making his way over to me in three easy strides.

“It’s bad, it’s really bad Eric. I mean, like really bad.” I begin pacing back and forth again.

“It’s okay, Vic. It really is fine. We’re going to re-evaluate, re-discuss, and get you out of here. I don’t care what it takes. We can just-“

“No!” I say desperately. “It’s not that! I’m getting out!”

“Oh,” a look of confusion comes over his face. “Then what’s the problem?”

“They’re sending me off to live with an aunt!” I tell him as if this will explain everything.

“Your aunt? Well, that’s not ideal, but it seems normal enough to me. Some people can’t deal with their kids when they get out of here. Staying with a family member is kind of common. Didn’t I tell you that?”

I vaguely remember a conversation Eric and I had a while back where he told me a lot of people who have family issues go to stay with a distant family member once they get out of here, kind of like a clean slate. Then once they’ve worked on their relationship with their family, they move back home. I had forgotten about that conversation and pushed it out of my thoughts, clearly thinking it would never apply to me.

“So,” he says, now flinging his perfectly toned body on my bed, “you’ve never mentioned an aunt. What’s she like?”

“I don’t have an aunt foolish!” I exclaim.

He sits up halfway on my bed. “How can you be going to live with an aunt that doesn’t exist?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out since I walked out of that room,” I throw my hands up in the air as I talk. “I was going to tell them, I was. But then I thought, why ruin any chance I have of getting out of here? How could this have happened?! They must have confused my files with someone else’s! They must think I’m someone else, which means some other helpless girl is somewhere in this building begging for a chance to get out of here and she isn’t getting it! Not to mention that when I walk out of here whoever this woman is will take one look at me and know I’m not who I say I am! I’m losing it Eric, this place has literally drove me insane!”

Eric looks at me like he’s not exactly sure if he should hug me or slap me. “Okay, just relax, sit down. First of all, you need to start thinking like a sane person or you won’t be going anywhere. Second of all, um hello Victoria, this isn’t the plot to some Lifetime movie, this is real life. And in real life professional psychological programs do not make mistakes. So you need to think hard, really hard. You’re sure you have no aunt? No one?

Not someone from your childhood that wasn’t around much?”

“No! There’s NO ONE!” I sound a little crazy, even to myself.

The expression on Eric’s face looks a little frightened now. “Lie down. Come here and just lie down for a second.” I reluctantly follow his command and lie down next to him on the bed. “Now close your eyes. Close them tight. And clear your mind.”

I feel ridiculous. It reminds me of this one time when Dr. Morgan tried this hypnotherapy method on me that she’d been using on other patients with some success.

First of all, I never believed it would work on me for a second, but more importantly, I knew there was like one percent part of me that was scared I would somehow end up revealing something about how I really felt for Nathan. So I had refused hypnotherapy every time she pressed the issue.

“Clear my mind?” I ask sarcastically. “Really?”

“Do you want my help or not?” he snaps.

I close my eyes and try to do as he says, which, believe me, is a lot easier said than done. The amount of thoughts and craziness running around in my mind right now would be a lot for anyone to handle, let alone me. Still, I give it all my effort and try to do as he says.

“You don’t remember anything? Not a single conversation about any aunt?”

“No,” I say honestly.

He jumps up from the bed and starts to walk toward the door. “Oh well, I tried.

Guess you’re on your own.”

“Hey!” I call out desperately.

He turns around with a grin plastered across his face. “You aren’t even trying!”

I roll my eyes before leaning back and closing them again. “I will, I’ll try.”

And I do. I clear my mind from all the intense thoughts and emotions running through it. Well, at least as much as I can. And I try to remember something, anything. At first there’s nothing, at first I’m sure it’s hopeless, but then, just when I’ve lost all hope, I suddenly remember something. Something that seems too insignificant. Something so little and meaningless that I must have pushed all thoughts of it to the back of my mind, not remembering it was ever there to begin with.

A blue bunny. A tiny blue bunny with a pink ribbon around its neck. I must have been about six years old when a package showed up at our front door one day. I remember being so excited because my birthday was coming up and sometimes my mom would send me packages through the mail as kind of a surprise. She would hide different gifts around the house for about a week before and after my birthday.

Yes, it was coming back to me now. I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, jumping up and down, happily waiting for my dad to cut off the intense packing tape.

When he finally did I tore the top of the box off and inside was a beautiful and perfect light blue bunny and a card that read:

To my beautiful niece. Happy birthday.

He held the little red card in his hand. I remember because I had just gotten to the point where I could read pretty well on my own, and it was something I was very proud of.

When I read it aloud my dad started acting very strange. He picked up all the wrapping paper, the box, and took the bunny out of my hands quickly. He told me it was a mistake, that the post office must have delivered it to the wrong address by mistake. He said he was going to bring it back to the post office himself. I remember being disappointed, but it was a memory I had quickly forgotten about and replaced in my mind until now.

“A blue bunny,” I say, meeting Eric’s eyes.

“A blue what?”

“Bunny,” I shake my head. “Someone sent me a blue bunny one year on my birthday, when I was younger. The card read, “To my niece.” My dad said it was an accident. That the post office had messed up.”

Eric doesn’t say anything. I keep going.

“How can I go stay with an aunt that I didn’t even know existed?”

“Better question,” Eric says honestly, “how could your dad think sending you to live with an aunt you’ve never even met is okay right now? He brings the word asshole to a whole new level.”

The room feels like it’s spinning. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I thought about going home. How can this be happening? And isn’t it like required for my parents to be here on the day of my release or something? I mean who exactly is running the fucking show around here?

“What am I going to do?” I ask quietly.

“You,” Eric says back softly, “are going to pack up your things, go out there like you know exactly what you’re doing, and then go home. Maybe it’s not the home you know, but who knows, maybe it’ll be better. If it’s not, tell me right away and I’ll send them to come get you and bring you right back here again, okay? Would you prefer to be sedated again or do you want to be awake to struggle this time?”

I laugh and playfully push him.

“You can do this Vic. Go get your life back.”

I hug him quickly. “I couldn’t have made it through this without you.”

“Yes,” he says, his breath in my hair, “you could have.”