Ten: Dove

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Chapter Ten:

Dove

"Now Dove, how are you feeling today on the mood meter? Can you point to where you're at?"

I bit my tongue as I nervously glanced up at Katrina.

The woman was nice, but I didn't like how well she's able to read me as a therapist. I didn't want to talk about what I refused to recall. I most certainly didn't want to talk about my feelings since I've awoken or what happened one and a half weeks ago either in the shower.

I stared down at my wrists that were fiddling with the hem of my dress. The ugly rigid markings were staring back at me. It was filled with nothing but hatred and a branding, much like the one on my ribcage. Though I couldn't remember much regarding how I had gotten the scars on my wrists, I certainly remembered the one on the inner parts of my wrists all too well. Slowly, I turned my hand over and I'm greeted with a long line that was much darker than the scaring from where Robert had tied and drugged me up.

The day I had tried killing myself shortly after.

Why did it feel as if there was something missing there in my wrist?

Timidly, my fingers slid across the plastic board, till it settles on the upper left corner, right between nervous and restless. It's been like this for days since my burns were well enough to move around and I finally cave in finally answer her. I watch as Katrina smiles, seeming happy that I'm making progress.

For the remainder of an hour, she gave me some breathing exercises to do and some questions for me to reflect on in the journal she had given to me. I liked that she didn't try prying me to show her what I've written, as I've done nothing more than sketching on them of what caught my attention for the day rather than anything else.

"I'm proud of you, Dove."

At that, I snapped my attention upwards to meet Katrina's hazelnut eyes. I wasn't entirely sure as to why, since I didn't even converse with her after pointing out where I'm feeling. Almost as if she read my mind, she continued. "I can see that you're trying through your struggles and wanting to converse with me. It must be very hard, but you're pushing through it. Without struggle, there's no progress."

Something about that statement resided with me as I gave a meek nod. I suppose that was true. Except, I didn't even know where I was headed in terms of my progress. Everyone is expecting me to remember, but I've yet to decide for myself if I wanted to.

The thought of being numb felt much more pleasant than anything else.

"Well, that's enough for the day then," she nodded. "Please be sure to continue journaling regarding your thoughts and take your medicine accordingly," she sternly told me. It reminded me much of my mother that I nodded. It's not as if I could forget with Gedeon always keeping everything on the dot with my medication and changing my wraps before applying ointment.

Shutting the door, I slowly made my way past the office where Anastasia or her brother, Aleksei, would often be waiting for me to take me to dinner. It's a one-way hall, and I had presumed that after that incident almost two weeks ago, they had locked every single room to ensure I wouldn't try anything.

Passing by Gedeon's office, the feeling of restlessness and something else settles over me once more when my eyes wandered in for a moment. It bubbles inside of my stomach, threatening to lash out that Gedeon was with Lizabeta again.

They were in a midst of a deep conversation when Lizabeta sits on his desk, throwing her knife up in the air and catching the handle with ease. I still didn't understand their relationship, but the unpleasant feelings would always stir inside of my chest.

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