The Cheerleader's Side Piece

Empty Bed(9)

Watching a love one suffer is probably one of the worst hells in the planet.  It can be your mother going though cancer treatment, your brother getting divorced, you best friend's parents died, or your dad losing his job.  No matter what the circumstances are, it fucking sucks.  Watching them cry, yell, struggle to find the will to be the person they once were.... it's the worst kind of show. 

My hell was watching Cassie go through therapy.  After she regained her memories, I thought it wouldn't be appropriate for me to continue as her therapist, so I transferred her to a colleague of mine.  During her therapy sessions, I am always outside waiting.  Sometimes I even pace around because my nerves have skyrocketed recently.  Cassie was released from the hospital last month and since she didn't want to be in her father's care, she has come to live with me.  At first it was tough.  Nightmare fits occurred almost every night.  It always ended with her screaming bloody murder and I having to remind her she's safe.  Another struggle was updating the house to accommodate to her immobility.  Since she was still getting used to walking again, the house needed ramps and handles everywhere.  It didn't help that she refused to use the ramps or the handles as well.  Her excuse, 'I need to improve faster'.  Not sure whether she has developed that thinking because of her frustration of recovery or if it's past abuse that still rings in her head. 

Cassie is never violent now.  She's usually stuck in thought or practicing her writing skills.  It scared me at first whenever I found her peering out the window for hours.  I thought she was considering suicide again, but whenever I intervened she would immediately tell me she was remembering the past.  We don't talk about the past often.  If we do, it's because of a nightmare she has had or because she isn't sure whether something actually happened or not.  My colleague found that Cassie has a tendency to dissociate when she encounters a stressful situation or when a massive wave of emotion floods her.  It's a way for her mind to cope and protect her.  She developed this habit when she was young apparently, hence why she can't even notice when it is happening.  Another thing we found out is that there are parts of her mind that has locked away memories.  It's another defense technic.  My colleague told me that she probably won't remember situations that really triggered her. 

I try not to pry into Cassie's therapy sessions.  I want her to feel safe enough to speak to her therapist.  Ever since she started attending the sessions, she's been improving mentally.  I sometimes catch her doing breathing exercises and healthy coping mechanisms.  It's great to see her applying those technics.

Unlocking the door to my apartment, I see how the lights are off.  Cassie is either asleep or thinking.  Coming in quietly, I hang up my coat and my scarf.  It had been freezing these past two days, which is very unlike Southern California.  Slipping off my shoes and tying up my hair, I search for Cassie.  "Not in the living room," I muttered, walking down to her bedroom, "nope."  I check the bathroom, nothing, and my office, nope.  The last room would be mine.  Slightly opening it up, I peek in to see her lying on my bed.  Under one of the covers, facing the opposite direction of me; where the glass door to the balcony was.  I quietly step inside, getting closer to her.  As I round the bed, I see she is fast asleep; her face snuggled into my pillow.  I've found her here the last few times.  I'm not sure what to think when I find her like this... or how to feel.  I go behind her to pic her up, which shocked me at first but I've come to find out she's extremely light.  As I walk her to her room, she wraps her arms around my neck and snuggles closer.  "Hello," I mutter.

"Take me back," she whispered.

"Back where?"

"Your bed," she whispered again, nudging closer to me, "I like it more."  She was half asleep as she muttered those words.  A piece of my hard heart was tugged from her dazed words, so I turned around and placed her back onto my bed.  Tucking her into the sheets, I went to change but she again muttered out, "Lay with me."

Since she's come to live with me, we've never shared a bed.  It was her in her room and I in mine.  We never spoke about dating again, never said 'I love you' since that day in the hospital, never really touched each other.  She was in between sleep and consciousness, so she wasn't exactly aware of what she was saying.  She'd probably just gone to her room herself if she was truly awake.  We weren't anywhere close to being together again.

But I couldn't say no to her request.

I changed into my usual night gown, then headed back to my bed where she laid.  Climbing under the covers as well, I turn my back to her.  My heart was thumping so much that I was scared that she could hear it.  She moved a little closer to me... than a bit closer and closer... until she was able to push her forehead into my back.  My breathing hitched, the hair on my body perched and the spot where she was touching burned.  She said, "Goodnight Ani... thank you." 

I didn't know why she was thanking me, why she was saying goodnight or placing her forehead against my back.  I didn't get what this little action meant or what her words meant.  I didn't know how to react or what to react about.  What was I suppose to say?  To do? All I could do was lie still and overthink till morning. 

Because in the morning, I would wake up to an empty bed.