Fragments of Hearts: A Healing Romance

Chapter Four

"So how was today, Erik?" Dr. Stones wanders as she looks over her notes.

I take some time to think about it. There is no word I can describe today. Should I tell her that I witnessed someone getting bullied by my cousin? Probably not. Not because I don't care, but because I need more time to see how the situation at the school evolves. Maybe it was a one time incident.

As I recall the past events, I don't miss to notice how sickening yet cosy this office looks like. The wood and browns from the furniture blend well with the greens around the corners. However the hospital smell is still here, haunting me with the memories of Sebs death, how I had to stay hours, even days to endlessly hope until it was official that he won't get to survive the gunshot.

Still hurts, despite how long it has been since what happened. It's funny how such a heartwarming place, which is supposed to become my safe spaces is at the same time the place where my past trauma kicks in whenever it feels like it. It's the perfect place to awaken what's been haunting me.

"It was quite eventful to say the least. I mostly spent my time with Chris and his friend." I carefully choose my words. Spending time with my cousin wasn't near as nice as I made it sound like, but I appreciate the fact that he at least tried. Through that I actually got to know quite a handfull of people I could hang out with at school.

She notes in her tiny journal. "Would you say you integrated?" she scans me and my actions. I miss my past therapist, he was much more relaxed. Here I feel rather interogated than treated for my problems, one of them being the nightmares I've been having for years.

I nod at her question "You could say that. I think the answer requires a bit more time." I shrug. She nods back in understandment, her glasses almost sliding down her face as she continues noting down whatever I say or do. She's new to this from what I can see, but if my past therapist trusted her, I'm willing to give her a chance.

"There was a girl that took my attention throughout the day." I watch her face light up. She obviously notices how I'm opening up. Not with the whole truth, but I believe I'll have more to do with Anne than I'm anticipating, which is why I'm willing to approach the topic.

"Oh really? Tell me about her." She looks up at me curiously. I start talking about how she got assigned to show me around, and the way she intrigues me through the way she acts. There's no way I couldn't notice her. I also tell her about the fact that she has some connection with Chris, which I am willing to dive deeper into and find out what's up.

I didn't buy his bullshit about being friends with her, and as much as I know that I need to stay within limits, I'll get involved into finding more about 'these two.

I rant about everything that gets through my mind, without talking about the weird stuff I notice. I told my therapist about how much she standed out of the croud, only by her gaze, which was distinctively from everyone else.

She reminded me of me; a part of me. Her green eyes were piercing through my skin while she watched me and her trembleling small body was hidden through her oversized clothes. She was hiding behind her brown hair, and the way her thoughts were screaming as if there were no words needed made me wonder about everything.

The therapy session ended shortly after our talk about Anne, finally able to leave this place; at least for a week. She did however prescribed me sleeping pills, which should help regulate my sleeping problems. She also said if they don't work, she can prescribe me something heavier. I can feel lighter knowing that there's still hope.

No matter how many pills I take, deep down, I know none of them will solve the core problem. None of them will neither bring my brother back nor make me feel less guilty. None of them will make me forget.

Heading to my new house I'm hardly integrating in, I only hope there will be silence. Chris is a handful to take, with all the days he comes drunk and decides to annoy me with all his girl-hooking drama. I don't know what my dad thought, when he decided to send me to Chri's family, heck, I don't even think he thought about it throughout fully.

He felt overwhelmed by me and no matter how much he denied it, this choice said the opposite. On one hand, I understand him; he lost his first son, and I remind myself a hell lot of him. I still remember times when he called me Sebatians name by mistake and how my heart ached.

On the other hand, I can't find the power to forgive him for sending me away as if I was a piece of furniture. I'm hurting and grieven just as much as he does, but he never seemed to care enough to not abandon me.

I don't seem to observe how much I've been thinking, not caring much about my surroundings, the hot weather, the people around me on the streets. And just like that, I arrive 'home'.

Chris and his family were quite wealthy, given the fact they had a big house, where they were able to take care of a fifth person. I appreciate how wellcoming they were and even Chris with his fucked up self managed to take me in as a part of his family, which is why I can't beat him for the shit he pulls out in school. I don't understand why he's acting the way he does.

I go up towards 'my' room, a plain colored space, with only the necesities. I didn't bother to decorate it when I arrived two months ago, given the fact that I don't see this as a home. I can't seem to adapt to my situation yet. I feel relaxed knowing there's no one here to interrogate me or mess with my peace and silence, at least not until Chris will come back.

Everyone in this house knows the reason why I ended up in regular therapy, but I won't open about whatever gets talked in there. Despite this family trying its best to include me without feeling like a burden to them, I don't trust them nearly enough to let them close to me. And I have the feeling that before I get to do so, there will be plenty of secrets I need to reveal. There have been too many questions with no answer, and I'll not sit around waiting for answers to come to me.

Not long after my arrival, a rough one to two hours, I start hearing noises in the  entrances hallway, noticing Chris's voice getting louder and livelier by the seconds. I doubt he's drunk at such an early hour, but the other voices which accompany him indicates it won't take long until he ends up being knocked off.

And as I laugh at my thoughts of a drunk Chris, I already hear him screaming his lungs apart when he orders me in a goofy way to get down and play some game with them. I don't hesitate and head downstairs, as I watch the guys I saw today at school.  They were all dressed casually, laughing at whatever one of them was saying; they were just living life.