Every Waking Dream

by Lauren Eason

  “Uh, well...” I stuttered. “You see...”

  He held up his hand to stop me. “The last thing I want you to do is incriminate yourself—”

  “What? I didn’t sell them to him if that’s what you’re thinking,” I replied angrily. “I may have been in rehab, but I’m not a dealer.”

  “I never said you were,” Detective Highwater assured. “Unfortunately, I can’t use the evidence you found if it was obtained illegally. There’s no way a warrant could be issued to search his place.”

  “So, my lead actually was helpful,” I stated bluntly. “What did you find?”

  “The toxicology report of Emily revealed she had a mixture of several drugs in her system. One of which matches the formula for your prescription medication by Dr. Clayborn. But, like I said, a judge would never sign off on me to search his place of residence on a hunch,” Detective Highwater conveyed.

  “But it’s not a hunch! I saw them. He had them tucked away in his—”

  “Not another word, Aislin,” Detective Highwater rushed to say. “Hypothetically, if you told me you broke into his house, I’d have to arrest you. Do you understand?”

  I shut my mouth and nodded. I knew he was right, but I couldn’t get it out of my mind that Steven, a man living right beyond my bedroom wall, was somehow involved in the disappearance of these kids. It worried me even more that Jess was still trying to act as though she didn’t know about the pills while playing his piano in his dining room.

  “What if Jess said she saw them in his house?” I asked slyly.

  “What are you getting at?”

  Hear me out,” I pleaded. “Jess is Steven’s student, and she works for him. What if Jess saw those pills during one of their lessons together?”

  Detective Highwater rubbed the hair on his chin. “I suppose that could have happened. We could at least question Steven until he lawyers up.”

  “I can live with that,” I smiled as I turned to go back to class.

  “Wait.” Detective Highwater grabbed my arm. “You mentioned you talked to Susan as well. What did she have to say?”

  “Not much,” I replied. “She told me her husband was a good man who died from a heart attack in his sleep.”

  “That’s not right,” Detective Highwater stated.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Her husband didn’t die of natural causes. He was in a horrific car accident involving him driving off a cliff,” he declared.

  “What?” I asked, my eyes widening. “I mean, I guess I understand why Susan wouldn’t want to relive that with me.”

  “That’s plausible, but I would still keep an eye on her. Have you been around her shop recently?”

  “I was there a few days ago after school, but I had some stuff come up this week with my family, so Susan’s been giving me a break—”

  The harsh ring of the bell reverberated off of the cold brick walls as students filed out of the gym towards the locker rooms. Detective Highwater watched as they passed by with Coach Simmons and Officer Fleming bringing up the rear. Raven glanced over at me as I saw Melissa brush past her. Raven looked at her hand confused before slowly trailing away with the others.

  “We’ll talk more later. You better hurry to your next location,” Detective Highwater said before leaving me in the empty hallway. Officer Fleming came to his side as I saw them exchange a few words before disappearing out of the building.

  Turning to the locker rooms, I went inside to find Raven as she changed near a bench. Grabbing her shirt, she pulled it over her head as I caught up to her. A few of Melissa’s crew giggled by the lockers opposite us as they surrounded her. Melissa’s face was unreadable.

  “I wish Officer Fleming would pair me off with Melissa so I could punch her in the face just once,” Raven said, picking up her foot to set on the bench to tie her shoe. “Her smug attitude really gets on my nerves.”

  Melissa passed by us as she eyed Raven, who paid her no attention. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, her posse left the locker rooms with her. I was sure she would make homecoming queen with as many people she had following her. While she didn’t have my vote, I supposed she fit a queen's title, a complete dictator.

  “Maybe she likes you,” I teased.

  “Now I know you’ve lost your mind,” Raven said as she straightened. I proceeded to change into my regular clothes as she continued. “Melissa made it painfully clear that whatever game we were both playing with each other was over.”

  “Well, not everyone is out of the closet, you know,” I said, playing devil’s advocate.

  “Right,” Raven groaned. “Speaking of—”

  “Hey, you two,” Coach Simmons called out. “If you don’t get a move on, you’ll be late for your next class. Do you really want to make me the bad guy here with homecoming right around the corner?”

  “No, Coach Simmons,” we said in unison. With a curt nod, we packed up our things quickly and slid past her. It took mere seconds for us to make it outside as we parted ways.

  As I walked to the greenhouse, I thought about all the different scenarios with Detective Highwater’s investigation of Steven’s home. While I was uncertain it was enough for a warrant for his house, I hoped Steven had the decency to confess to his crimes. Even more so, I hoped he would divulge the location of the kidnapped children.

  As I entered the greenhouse, its moist heat embraced me. Jason was waiting for me near a table filled with various plants ready for our test. As much as I tried to focus on recognizing plants and their species, it was safe to say my extracurricular activities didn’t help me feel confident.

  As Mrs. Richards handed out the exam, I glanced over the numbered plant species and kicked myself for failing a test I should’ve aced. I worked at a florist shop, for crying out loud! I tried my best to identify the species I did know and then completely guessed on the others. Doomed from the beginning, I handed in my test somberly and headed for a corner of the room where I could feel my anxiety attack setting in.

  I heard the crunch of gravel as Jason finished his test and followed me to our meeting spot. As much as I would’ve liked to be surrounded by his presence, now wasn’t the best time.

  “That test was pretty hard, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  “You’re a bad liar.” It was evident he knew what every single plant in this greenhouse was. I doubt he would fail something as trivial as this class for someone looking into Harvard and Yale for college.

  He sighed, leaning against the metal table. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. You’ve been a little distracted lately. Is everything okay? Is it the football game? Homecoming? Because if so, we don’t have to go.”

  “No, it’s not that,” I stated, easing his fears. I smiled weakly at his sudden rush of panic over whether I wanted to be there for those things—for him.

  “My family’s going through a lot right now, is all. We have our first family therapy session today,” I admitted, wanting someone to confide in.

  “I’ve been through a lot of those,” he said, relaxing a little.

  “My mom says she has something to tell all of us. I’m pretty sure I know what it is.”

  “I’m sure she has her reasons,” Jason commented, straightening.

  I raised an eyebrow. “It sounds like you already know what it’s about.”

  Jason smirked as he placed his hands on the table, gripping the edge. “I’ve seen it all. Nothing surprises me anymore. It’s a big step if she’s willing to tell her family her secrets, so you should give her a chance to explain. Try to remain calm and listen.”

  “Easier said than done,” I muttered. “If it wasn’t for Jess, I’d always be the odd man out when it comes to my family. Sometimes I feel like things would’ve been better if they had just kept me in rehab.”

  “Don’t say that,” Jason urged. “It only feels that way now because you all haven’t talked about your feelings. Once everything’s out in the open, I’m sure you’ll feel better.”


  The bell rang in the distance as Jason took my hand, leading me out of the greenhouse. He let it go as we got outside and headed towards our lockers where Jess was waiting for me. I already knew we were running late as soon as I saw her tired face. Grabbing my books for some homework later, I waved goodbye to Jason as Jess and I headed off towards the school parking lot.

  “Are you ready for this?” she asked as she opened the passenger side door to my car. We hopped in as I turned over the engine.

  “At least we have a getaway car if things get bad,” I teased, pulling onto the road towards the rehab center. It didn’t take long for us to get there. After spotting my mother’s car, I pulled into the vacant space next to it.

  “Prepare for the worst,” Jess commented with a sigh as she exited the vehicle. I followed behind her, locking the car. We entered through the familiar automatic doors and approached the reception desk. Before I could utter a word, our mother and father greeted us.

  “I’m glad you’re both here,” my mother announced, swooping in for a hug. Jess tensed as our mom tried to hug her. I watched the awkward sight unfold as our father stood there, his arms across his chest. I could tell whatever she wanted to say to us during therapy, he already knew about it.

  “I’ll just need everyone to sign in here,” the receptionist stated, placing a clipboard on top of the counter. I glanced over it, signing my name to one of the lines like old times. While I wasn’t thrilled about the secrets that were to unfold, I was kind of glad to be seeing Dr. Clayborn. I had some things I wanted to discuss with her that only she could handle.

  “Right this way,” a nurse stated after Jess finished up with her signature. They led us through the hallway and opened a door with their keycard, allowing us entrance into the more secured area of the building. I passed by my old room, wondering what poor soul occupied it now that I was gone.

  As we rounded a corner, the nurse opened a door into a sitting area with a few windows showcasing the trees outside. The room was light and airy, with a leather couch and two armchairs around a small coffee table. Another armchair sat in front of the sitting area where the doctor could take up residence during the duration of our family therapy session. I noticed the subtleness of the tissues stacked around the room on the side tables.

  “Dr. Clayborn will be right with you. I’ll notify her that you’re here,” the nurse said with a smile before closing the door behind us. I walked over to one of the armchairs and took a seat, the plush cushion flattening underneath me. Jess took the other, forcing our parents to sit beside each other on the couch.

  As I watched them move to the far ends of the couch, trying to put as much space as possible in between them, it was evident something was dire. Their body language was so stiff, it radiated with tension, causing my anxiety to spark. Jess waited patiently, stealing glances in my direction. I knew she was thinking the same thing I was. This wasn't so much about us as it was about them. They simply wanted us to witness it.

  The door opened to the room, a grateful reprieve from the deafening silence as we waited. Dr. Clayborn entered with a notepad and pen in hand. She smiled at me as she walked to the center of the room to take her seat. Getting herself situated comfortably in the chair, she opened her notepad and jotted down a few notes before beginning.

  “Thank you all for coming to our first session today. I know this can be a difficult first step for most,” she stated. “Anything that’s said within this room is confidential and will remain between all of us. I implore you that if you’re feeling any way towards each other, you say it here and now and don’t take it home with you. Is that understood?”

  We all nodded solemnly. My mother shifted uncomfortably on the couch as the leather rustled underneath her weight. She leaned forward for the water pitcher and poured herself a glass. I tried not to stare at her as she did this as I knew she would feel judged, but it was hard to turn away knowing she was the one with the secret here. My father let out an audible sigh.

  “Great. So, let’s begin. I’d like to start off the first ten or so minutes with an open floor as I understand Mrs. Smith has something she’d like to share with everyone,” Dr. Clayborn instructed.

  My mother took a long sip of the water before placing the glass back on the table. “David, we’ve been together for the past twenty years. We’ve had our ups and downs, but for the past year, I’ve become lost—”

  “Lost in that woman you mean,” my father blew out gruffly.

  “Mr. Smith, the process will flow much more smoothly if you let your wife finish what she says first, and then you may respond,” Dr. Clayborn asserted.

  “He’s right,” my mother said with tears in her eyes. “I’ve been feeling more distant. When his work slowed down, it was hard to provide for the family. I took a different job that opened many opportunities for us, but I didn’t do a very good with balancing my career and our home life. When I met Denise, I—”

  “Woah,” I cut my mother off. “Denise? Raven’s stepmother? That’s who you’ve been secretly seeing?”

  “Aislin,” Dr. Clayborn pleaded. I sat back in the chair, holding my tongue. All this time, I thought it had to be Jason’s father, but when he told me his dad was spending more time with them, I had never thought my mother would be sneaking around with Denise—let alone interested in a woman.

  “Let me explain,” my mother began again. “I didn’t know I had these types of feelings. Well, I thought I may have felt a certain way about women when I was younger, but I told myself it was wrong. When I met Denise, it was so easy. We had so much in common, and she made me feel young again. I cut it off with her over a week ago.”

  “And why did you end the relationship, Mrs. Smith?” Dr. Clayborn asked, her pen steady in her hand.

  “It was the guilt, shame. I felt like I had betrayed my family, and I couldn’t carry on with it. David was getting more work, so he was gone frequently. I was left alone with the kids, and they’ve been running around with boys and doing only God knows what,” my mother continued.

  “We’re not doing anything wrong,” Jess piped up. “So, what if we’re making friends at school and we’ve met some people we click with? You haven’t met Max because you’re never around!”

  “I know, and part of that is my fault, but I need you two to give me a break—”

  “From what?” I asked. “From being our mother so you can figure out your mid-life crisis with Dad?”

  “This is a complete waste of time,” my father muttered under his breath. “If you thought this was going to save our marriage, Marsha, you’re wrong. I’m going through with the divorce.”

  My father stood up from the couch as panic filled Dr. Clayborn’s eyes. She stood up, blocking our father from leaving the room. “Mr. Smith, I understand how deeply upsetting this can be, but I’d like to hear your side of the story before you leave if that’s okay?”

  With a huff, my father plopped back down on the couch, his hands between his knees. “In all my time married to this woman, I never thought I’d feel as much pain as I do now. I thought I’d find a way to cope with the rejection, so I took on my jobs to stay away from her.”

  “What rejection?” Dr. Clayborn asked. “Are you talking about the affair?”

  “No,” he said sadly. “Our marriage has had problems long before my wife met Denise. I’m not sure it’s something I want to discuss in front of our children...”

  “Noted, Mr. Smith. How about we simply talk about the coping mechanisms you partook in?” Dr. Clayborn asked.

  “Drinking,” Jess interjected. “Dad started drinking a lot about six months ago. I don’t think he knew anyone noticed, but I did. I found the empty alcohol bottles you used to hide in the garbage at our old house. I knew you were going through something, but I never asked.”

  “I would drink so much I’d pass out on the couch. It was one of the reasons your mother and I fought late into the night,” my father confirmed.

  “Is there a history of alcoholism on yo
ur side of the family?” Dr. Clayborn asked.

  My father nodded his head, his face flushing with emotion. “My father was an alcoholic and a mean drunk. Marsha knew about this. When the work slowed, I never wanted my wife to pick up the slack for the family.”

  “I see. It sounds like you have a sense of duty to your family. How did it make you feel?” Dr. Clayborn asked.

  “Inadequate,” I whispered under my breath.

  “Exactly,” my father said. “How did you know?”

  “It’s because it’s the same way I feel now.” Since we were all laying our emotions out there, I might as well join in.

  “Why do you feel that way, Aislin?” Dr. Clayborn asked.

  My breath quickened as both my parents turned towards me. Jess gave me a small smile, boosting my morale. Swallowing hard, I took a deep breath. “I let my family down when I decided to treat my depression and anxiety by myself. I didn’t know how to talk to them about what I was going through, so I turned to pills instead. Since then, my decision has haunted me, and my parents won’t ever let me forget it.”

  “Aislin...” my mother trailed off.

  My father grabbed my mother’s hand. “Let her finish.”

  I felt heat rise to my face as I glanced down at my feet. My leg was bouncing, a nervous tick I couldn’t get rid of. “Jess was right when she told me the other day about being a scapegoat. I would take it one step further and say I feel like the black sheep as well. I don’t feel like I’ll ever be good enough for them anymore. I feel like all their problems are somehow my fault. If I had only said something sooner, maybe we wouldn’t all be sitting here right now.”

  “Aislin, honey, it’s not your fault,” my mother pleaded.

  “Absolutely not,” my father reiterated. “Your mother and I...we’re the ones with the problem here. Maybe if we had taken the time to give you—and your sister—the attention you needed, you wouldn’t have felt like you needed those pills.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to say that since I got out of this place,” I sniffed, rubbing a stray tear from my cheek.

  My parents rose from their seats along with Jess as they hugged me from my chair. Waves of emotions hit me like a train as I sobbed into my father’s neck. I didn’t know what would become of my parents since they had their own demons to contend with, but knowing they didn’t blame me for my part was the best relief in the world.