Back at Square One (BEN Drowned)

26

When I had more time to myself, I began thinking: maybe by doing this, Ben thought he could win me back over. Come to the dark side, Avery. We have brownies and organized murder plans of everyone you don't like.

I almost laughed to myself when I realized that's what he was probably trying to do. Oh, you sweet, sociopathic little dead boy.

I don't work that way.

As I expected, Meghan's death was also written off as suicide. It almost made me laugh, how much of a Heathers-esque situation this was. I couldn't find it in myself to laugh anymore, though.

I sat in a small cushioned chair in the waiting room.

"Dr. Bryant will see you now," the receptionist stated in an attempted chirp. I could almost hear the deadpan in her voice, but dismissed it. I had more important things to worry about.

I got up from the seat and walked through the doorway, anxiety gnawing at me. A sad-looking man was waiting for me on a leather couch, holding a small notepad and a pen. He stood up to shake my hand.

"Hello, Avery. I'm Dr. Bryant. I just need to ask you a few questions, and then you can be on your way in about..." He checked a small wristwatch. "...45 minutes." He smiled at me and gestured for me to sit down on the couch opposite to him.

I hesitantly took a seat, unsure what to say to a 30-something psychologist about what happened with Ben and Meghan. It was the reason my mom had sent me here in the first place.

I kept my eyes on the small coffee table between us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dr. Bryant check his notepad.

"So...your mother said that you were suffering from anxiety and..." He paused to raise and eyebrow curiously. "...an array of mood problems. I'd just like to ask you right now, does that sound accurate?"

Slowly, I nodded.

"Before we go into the diagnostics, is there anything that you think might be causing this?"

I paused, and racked through the options in my brain. This guy wasn't allowed to tell anyone anything I said, or at least who I was. I could either play it safe and act like Ben was some sort of mentally challenged roommate, or...

I could be honest about what was happening for the first time since this all started.

"...yeah. I think I know what it is."

Either way, there was definitely an obvious place to start.

"Someone at my school was killed."

His reaction was somewhat delayed. Once he processed what I said, he froze, and then smiled sadly.

"I...was going to bring that up at some point, yes. But your mom feels like there were a certain...chain of events that led up to what happened, if you're comfortable talking about it. Something involving a person named Ben, I believe."

Without hesitating, I looked up and stared him directly in the eyes. "You're sworn to secrecy or some shit, right? You can't tell anyone what I say, not even my mom?"

He looked a little stunned, but answered anyway. "Y-yes, I am. It was part of my oath, I guess you could say. If I told anyone then it would be a breach of confidentiality..."

"Great." I adjusted myself and folded my hands anxiously.

"Ben is dead."

The doctor raised his eyebrows and seemed to instinctively touch his pen to the paper, but then stopped himself. There really was nothing he had to say, apparently. He slowly nodded for me to go on.