Whiskey | Bradley Bradshaw

4

" How has your alcohol consumption been?"

" A lot."

" Smoking?"

" A lot."

" Any other types of drugs?"

" Not yet."

" That's not exactly reassuring."

" Well, it's the truth."

" Lieutenant Commander--"

" Just Lieutenant. I was demoted, that's why I'm here."

" You're here because it's mandated by the Navy."

Evie sits slumped on the couch in a cold, lifeless and barren room across from her therapist, one she's been seeing for a year. Her muscles are tense, jaw is clenched as her eyes wonder around the room, unable to actually look the doctor in the eyes.

" How have you been sleeping?" Dr. Rayowa Musa asks as she writes down on her notepad.

" Shitty," Evie responds.

" And your diet?" Dr. Musa asks.

" Also shitty," Evie sighs.

" Is there anything not shitty you'd like to talk about?"

" Not really."

" Would you like to sit in silence for the remainder of our session again?"

" Yep."

The doctor lets out a heavy sigh, eyeing her patient who's cold and closed off demeanor isn't helping anyone, especially not herself.

" You know..." Rayowa starts as she leans over to rest her elbows on her knees, " You will not be reinstated unless I see you as capable and clear you."

" Maybe I shouldn't be reinstated," Evie shrugs.

" And why is that?" Rayowa asks.

" Maybe I'm not fit to serve."

" Why?"

" I don't know, maybe I just don't like that stupid bun they make us wear."

" Is it really about the bun?"

" What else would it be about?"

" David."

At the very mention of his name, Evie's neck snaps and locks eyes with the therapist as a panic attack bubbles from deep within.

" Wh-What?" She asks.

" We haven't said his name," Rayowa says gently, " I think it's time. Don't you... Lieutenant Cohen?"

Evie's breath gets caught in her throat as the air becomes heavy, almost like led. Her jaw trembles as the mention of just one name triggers of flood of unfortunate memories that she's kept at bay with drugs. Her eyes blink rapidly as she feels the tears dare to fall down her face, her nails sink into the leather couch and her toes curl inside her boats.

" I," Evie croaks, finding the simple act of speaking to be nearly impossible, " I can't."

" Yes, Evie... you can."

" I can't."

" What happened that day, Evie?"

The question hits her like a bullet train as the memories plague her brain and force her to relive the most painful and horrific day of her life.

And yet, it started like any other.

Evie woke up with a smile on her face. She went on her morning run around the neighborhood, headphones on and listening to Blondie. Her feet hit the ground, her body sweat.