by Lauren Eason
She cupped her cheek in her hand. “Who attacked you?”
“It was...” I hesitated, knowing what this must have looked like to her. Holding my breath, I squeezed my eyes shut before saying, “Maria.”
“Maria is on her way to group therapy right now, which is where you should be as well.” Dr. Clayborn sat up and closed the file on her desk. “I have some things to finish here, but in the meantime, let me know if you have any questions about your new prescription. There may be times where this medication won’t disrupt your dream cycle. Will that deter you from using it?”
“No,” I answered. “I think I can handle a dream every now and then.”
“Like last night?” Dr. Clayborn asked, taking her glasses off and throwing them on top of my file. She rubbed her temples.
“Did I do something wrong?” I inquired, her attitude implying that I had.
“No,” she sighed, “not at all. I didn’t have a pleasant night. Nothing that you did mind you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Dr. Clayborn chuckled. “Maybe I should be paying you by the hour here. But no, there’s not much you could do.”
“I could listen,” I insisted.
She smiled weakly at me as she picked up a picture frame from her desk. Holding it out to me, I took it. It held a photo of her with a handsome man and a little girl. They looked to be on a pier by the beach where rides and food trucks rested in the background. The girl was high on the man’s shoulders, laughing while he held both of her legs, keeping her steady. Dr. Clayborn was in street clothes with her arms wrapped around the man.
“Is that your family?” I asked, handing the picture back to her.
“It is. We took that photo about two years ago. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.”
“Did something happen to them?” I inquired.
Her smile vanished as she set the picture back down in its rightful place. “My husband and I divorced a year ago. Our daughter, Emilia, chose to stay with him.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pry into her personal life too far.
“Last night was supposed to be my night with her, but she wanted to stay with her father instead,” Dr. Clayborn revealed, a slight hitch in her voice.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I know that must be difficult for you.”
“Well, we all have our secrets, Aislin,” Dr. Clayborn relayed as she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. Tell me about your dream.”
I knew she wanted to speak more on the matter but had to remain professional around me. I felt like over the past couple of months, we had built up a decent repertoire with each other. This was the first time she had ever confided in me about anything dealing with her personal life, so it didn’t hurt my feelings that she wanted to change the subject.
“I was in Maria’s dream last night. It was a nightmare.”
“How so?” Dr. Clayborn reached into one of her drawers and pulled out another file.
“I’ve been in her dreams several times before when I first got here. It’s usually the same recurring one where she’s locked away in a padded cell. Sometimes she’s pacing around the room, and other times she’s trying to get out,” I explained. “This time was different.”
“What was different about it?”
“Someone came in. It was a shadow. I couldn’t see his face,” I replied.
“You know this thing to be a man?” Dr. Clayborn asked, intrigued.
“I think so. It had a human form, and it was too big to be a woman. It attacked her, but before it went after her, she came after me.”
“She saw you?” Dr. Clayborn asked, writing another note into her file.
“Yeah...I guess she did. I was defending myself from her when the nurses woke me up.” I fiddled with a cotton strand on my sweatpants, twisting it in between my fingers.
“This is interesting.” Flipping Maria’s file open, she thumbed through it, reading sections out of it. When she lifted her gaze, it was as if she had forgotten I was still in the room.
“I apologize, Aislin, but I’ll have to cut our visit short this morning. I do, however, want to tell you that this event will not impede you from being discharged from your stay here,” Dr. Clayborn said hurriedly.
“Uh, okay,” I stated, not sure why she was acting so flighty.
She rose from her seat and escorted me toward her office door before practically pushing me through it. Closing the door after a quick goodbye, I stood in the silent corridor, wondering what that had all been about.
Shaking my head, I wandered down the hall as two nurses walked with Maria past me towards group therapy. Her eyes met mine as the blood drained from her face, turning her a ghostly white.
“It’s you...” she breathed as another nurse gently guided her along. I picked up my pace as I rounded a corner, trying to get as far away from Maria as possible. If she recognized me, there was no telling how she would react. Before I had a chance to make my escape, I collided with Raven.
“Watch it. What’s going on with you?” I dodged her, trying to get to the sanctuary of our room.
“Wait!” Raven called after me, grabbing my arm as I stopped to face her. “Group therapy is the other way.”
“I’m skipping it.”
“You can’t skip group therapy. It’s mandatory. You’ll get in trouble,” Raven said as she jogged in front of me as I tried to walk away. “Look. We’re in this together, remember? I’ll go with you. It’ll be fine.”
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my focus as I listened to her. I had to endure a few more days of this, and then I would be discharged. It was the same thing I told myself every day within the center. Nodding, I turned around as she walked me back down the corridor toward our classroom.
Taking a seat beside Raven in the circle, I tried to remain calm, taking deep meditative breaths as I had learned in our yoga classes. We patiently waited as the seats filled, Maria sitting across from me as our session leader took a seat near the door. Dr. Clayborn entered the room to monitor, a task she only rarely performed. After our talk, I assumed she wanted to see Maria for herself—and possibly our interaction together.
I kept my gaze pointed at the ground in the center of the circle as the session leader, Ronald, opened the floor for anyone brave enough to speak. Listening, I tried to stay focused on the stories people were telling about their drug use, habits, and situations they had encountered.
While Raven generally found group therapy boring and ultimately meaningless, some of the stories our people told were genuinely intriguing. We were all around the same age, fourteen to seventeen. The journeys these kids had been on with their addictions and struggles could fill up books. It was amazing how much one person could go through in such a short time in this world—a world that didn’t particularly care about your feelings or issues.
Sometimes, I felt like I was eavesdropping on everyone who shared. I never shared except the obligatory introduction of why I was there. The pills were only half of my story. It was everything that came before that I kept buried deep inside, locked away so I wouldn’t have to feel any of that pain.
“I would like to share,” Maria said as she rocked back and forth in her chair. She bit her lip as her hair swung forward in her face.
“Of course, Maria,” Ronald said. “What would you like to talk about?”
“There’s this girl I see in my dreams sometimes...” It was so low that I wasn’t sure everyone had heard it.
“What was that, Maria?” Ronald inquired.
Maria lifted her head a bit, clearing her throat. “I see a girl in my dreams.”
“What kind of dreams are they? Good ones?” I knew he was trying to encourage her to speak out more.
Maria chewed on her bottom lip as she gripped the bottom of her chair with her hands. My gaze flicked over to Dr. Clayborn, who stood statuesque in the corner of the room, fixated on Maria.
“I tho
ught she was an angel. She would always be there when the monster came into my room.”
Ronald leaned back in his chair to stretch, but I caught the signals he sent to Clayborn over his shoulder. It was apparent something was wrong, and they were preparing for the aftermath.
“This monster,” Ronald went on to say. “Is this a personal demon of yours? Perhaps, a metaphor?”
“No!” The room quieted at Maria’s outburst. She soon regained her composure and continued. “No...he’s real.”
I held my breath as we all tensed, unsure of how this was going to play out. We had heard stories of violence before, but our leader's role was to keep everyone comfortable. Group therapy was a safe space, but Maria was agitated. Raven shot a look in my direction as Ronald decided to change the topic.
“How about we discuss this in—”
“He raped me!” she cried as tears pooled in her eyes. Raven gasped beside me as everyone stiffened in their seats.
“Maria, how about we go somewhere private to—”
“She saw it!” Maria shouted as she stood up from her chair, knocking it backward. The metal chair clanged to the floor as she pointed directly at me. “She was in my dream.”
The leader stood up as a nurse prepped a needle nearby. Dr. Clayborn approached Maria, touching her shoulder as she pulled away. I saw Harlan enter the scene as the situation grew tense.
“Maria, listen to me. Remain calm. No one is going to hurt you,” Dr. Clayborn cooed as some of the others started to stand from their chairs. “Stay in your seats. It’s all going to be alright.”
“When did this happen? Did it happen here?”
“No, no, no!” Maria screamed as she started hitting her head with her hand. “They said they were going to help me, but...”
Dr. Clayborn held her hand up to the nurse with her syringe at the ready. She walked slowly over to Maria as she stood in the center of our circle, her petite body shaking with sobs. Inching closer, she held out her hand, offering Maria an olive branch. Maria wiped her face, taking Dr. Clayborn’s hand. She wrapped her arms around Maria as they sunk to the ground together on their knees.
“It’s okay,” Dr. Clayborn said breathlessly. “She’s okay. Ronald, will you take the others back to their rooms?”
He nodded and quickly gathered us as we filed out. Raven was right behind me as we walked down the hallway toward our room. We were silent until we closed the door behind us. Raven walked towards me with her hands on top of her head.
“Holy shit! What was that?” she asked. “Maria totally lost it.”
“Do you think what she said was true?” I asked. “About the rape?”
“I have no idea, but that was insane,” Raven exclaimed as she flopped onto her bed. “Why was she pointing at you?”
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“Come on, Ais,” Raven moaned. “You know something.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I answered, frustrated. “Why would I know anything that personal about Maria? We have group therapy a few times a week, and now I’m supposed to know everything about everyone?”
“Geez, Aislin,” Raven threw her hands up in defense. “Don’t get upset with me. I was only curious.”
I flopped onto my stomach on my bed and turned my head to face her. “I’m sorry, Raven. It hasn’t been my day today.”
“You’re telling me,” Raven sighed as she stared at the ceiling. “I failed my weigh-in.”
“What?” I asked, lifting my face from my pillow. “But you’ve been doing so well.”
“Yeah, well, apparently not well enough,” Raven scoffed. “They’re thinking of extending my stay another two weeks. School will have started by then.”
I jumped out of my bed and rummaged through my drawers, clothes toppling to the ground. Raven sat up in her bed and watched me, amusement in her eyes. Walking over to her, I sat down beside her and handed her a chocolate bar.
“Where the hell did you get this?” she asked, snatching it from me.
“I got it for good behavior, but I saved it for you,” I replied. “Take it. You have one more weight-in before they make that sort of decision final.”
Raven wrapped her arms around my neck. “You’re such a good friend, and thankfully, I do have a weakness for chocolate. It may take me the whole night to eat this, but if it gets me out of here, then so be it.”
“Raven,” I began, “I don’t know much about what you’ve gone through to get here, and this might sound completely morbid, but I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“I thrive on the morbid. I’m glad I’m here with you too,” she said, nibbling on the candy.
We stayed in our room for a while, taking jabs at one another until it was time for lunch. As we were about to head out, we could hear the sound of jingling keys outside our door as it opened. Dr. Clayborn and an officer entered our room, a look of concern on their faces.
“Aislin, after the discussion we had earlier this morning, I’ll need you to come with me. This is Officer Highwater. He’ll be sitting in on our conversation,” Dr. Clayborn announced.
I stood from the bed. “This is about Maria, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so. Come.”
She gestured to me with her hand as Raven searched my face. I gave her a small smile before heading out the door with Officer Highwater. He placed his hand on my upper arm as he guided me down the halls with Dr. Clayborn behind us. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. My secret was mine, and I wasn’t comfortable shouting it out to the entire world. Whatever this interview was about, I wasn’t sure how much help I would be.
Chapter Four
“Ms. Smith, I just want to remind you this isn’t an interrogation, and you are free to stop answering my questions at any time. I have present with me, Dr. Clayborn, to witness this process. Do you have any questions?” Officer Highwater asked in a gruff voice.
We sat at a bare table in what looked to be like a nurses’ lounge. A small kitchenette was located in the corner with a recently brewed pitcher of coffee. The fluorescent light buzzed overhead as a television attached to a blank wall sat on mute, tuned to the local news. A vending machine hummed behind me as Dr. Clayborn took a bottle of water from the dispenser, handing it to me.
Thanking her, I opened it and allowed the crisp water to ease my parched throat. It had been a while since I had a sit-down with a cop. The last time had been when I was busted at school with unidentifiable pills in my backpack. It was one of the many reasons I landed myself here.
“No, no questions,” I replied, sitting the bottle down on the table. Dr. Clayborn pulled up a chair by my side as I averted my eyes from the cop across the table. She knew the situation was tense, and I found comfort in the warmth that radiated from her body beside me. It was a subtle sign of solidarity, which I actually appreciated.
“I was called by Dr. Clayborn due to the incident with Maria Sanchez. Do you know her?” He leaned back in the metal folding chair, trying to appear open.
“Not well,” I replied. “She’s in my group therapy, but we don’t talk.”
“I see,” he stated. “She had a very interesting story to tell us, and we’re trying to connect the dots. She claims that she was assaulted while in the custody of a psychiatric hospital about an hour's drive from here.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
“Maria claims that you know about it,” Officer Highwater answered, folding his arms over his broad chest. “Do you?”
I hesitated for a moment and glanced over at my doctor. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there if that’s what you’re asking. You can look at my records if you want.”
“Maria told me today that she had a dream last night about the incident in question and that in her dream, Aislin was there,” Dr. Clayborn answered for me. “She told you about that as well?”
“Right,” I said, going off Dr. Clayborn’s lead. “Maria had a dream, and I was in it. She told
a couple of people about it. Maybe during our group session, she got confused.”
“Hmm,” Officer Highwater hummed, leaning forward in his chair. “Do you agree with that assumption, Dr. Clayborn?”
“It’s hard to say, Officer—”
“Please, call me Liam,” Officer Highwater insisted of her. I watched as a slight blush crossed my doctor’s face.
I glanced between them as I sized up Highwater. He had a somewhat muscular physique with an army tattoo on his forearm, where his sleeves were rolled up on his button-down shirt. A badge shone in the light attached to his belt, holding up his black slacks. He had short black hair with a tan complexion. I could tell that he was a fighter from the calluses present on his knuckles. Desk duty wasn’t something he was used to.
“Yes, well, like I was saying. It would be hard to say without disparaging the case,” Dr. Clayborn continued.
“Disparaging in what way?” he inquired.
“I want the matter to be taken seriously, and for me to confirm her confusion could indicate that the rest of the dream she had was the reason for her sudden outburst. I hope that we can both agree, however, that Aislin was certainly not present for any crime,” Dr. Clayborn explained.
“I can see that now. Thank you, Dr. Clayborn and Aislin, for your time,” he said, standing from the table.
Dr. Clayborn and I stood, seeing to our guest as he readied to take his leave. He shook Dr. Clayborn’s hand and nodded towards me before exiting the nurses’ lounge. As soon as the door closed behind him, she turned towards me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.
“Aislin, the dream you had last night—it’s all true, isn’t it?” she asked, her eyes searching for an answer within my own.
“I—I didn’t know Maria was going to react like that today—”
“Of course not! There’s no way you could’ve known that,” Dr. Clayborn admitted, straightening herself while letting her hand drop to her side. “This is quite remarkable.”
I smirked as I brushed past her towards the door. “So, I assume you believe me now?”
“I’m not quite sure what I believe,” she said, crossing and uncrossing her arms over her chest. I could tell by her posture and gestures her faith had undoubtedly been shaken. She instinctively clutched the small gold cross that hung from a chain around her neck as she contemplated another response.