8 A Look Into The Past

Rosie has me by the hand and is dragging me into the kitchen.

"Rosie, what is going on?" I ask, befuddled.

"Vanessa, if I want you to understand what is happening and why I did anything the way I did it, I need you to listen to Professor Grant for a while, as he talks to you now. No more listening in on my sessions. I want you to have a full session with him today. Right now. Please."

Professor Grant is at the dining table, frowning into his coffee cup.

"Rosie, dear, I don't think this is the right way to deal with things,"

"Oh, Mr. Grant, you don't know Vanessa." She whines, "She will never get help unless I force it on her and I need her to accept what happened and move on." She sounds very desperate and so we cooperate. Both of us.

Professor Grant smiles at me, rubbing his hands together, "So, Ms. Vanessa, I'd like to start off by asking you, just once, are you comfortable with this?"

I sigh and nod.

He nods, "Would you like to tell me why your sister or you yourself would believe that you need a counselor or therapist?" He smiles lightly again.

"Well," I look at my sister, who has her eyes set forward, "I guess we've-- I've--uh, had a less than pleasant, um, childhood experience, and, uh, ah, I'd like to talk about it with a professional?" It somehow ends up being a question.

"Now, is that really what you want?"

I look away my sister. "Look at me, Vanessa." He says.

I shake my head, "Not really."

"Not really." He repeats, "So what do you think you need then? If it's not someone to vent to, what do you need? A friend? A parent? An elder--?"

"A parent," someone says, and I turn to look but see no one else in the room.

"A parent?" He repeats

"I didn't say that," I say casually

He smiles, "You did."

No. I didn't. I don't need a parent or something like that. "The only thing I need is sleep." I laugh, but no one joins in.

I lick my lips, awkward. "Do you think you need a parent, Vanessa?"

I look at my knees, "No--I mean, it'd be nice to have someone to talk to, someone older who can help out sometimes, but, no, I don't need parents. I'm practically an adult myself."

"What about your sister? You can't talk to her?"

I shrug, stuttering, this is stupid, "I--I--I can. It I-it's just, she's my sister. She isn't that much older than me. There's some things you can only talk to a parent about. Besides, sometimes you just see people talking to their parents and you want the same thing, that's all it is."

I shrug

"Would you mind telling me something about your childhood?"

"Wha-there's nothing much, really. Nothing. My dad was and apparently still is a jerk who used to beat anyone that got in his way, my mom was always trying to protect us from him, even though she was sick, and my sister got beat up almost everyday."

He nods, " Mhmm, and how come I didn't hear anything about you in this? The question was your childhood, Vanessa."

I look at a loss for words. "This is not a trick question. I just want you to tell me something about you."

I look around, defensive for some reason, "I-- I don't know what to say. I had a pretty normal childhood."

I'm fidgeting with my hands and when Professor Grant stands, I flinch.

"We won't do anything. It's just a simple state of tranquility that I want to put you in, so we can see what's really on your mind. I don't generally do this to patients on their first session, but if you're okay with it," he gestures around him and I shrug, "Whatever. Hypnotize me."

"Now, hypnosis is not what you see on television--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just get this over with already. At least I might get some sleep."

"What can you see?"

"A house, or, family. One mother and father and two children. Rosie and me."

"Okay. How does the family look?"

"You can tell it's not a happy family from a mile away."

"How does your mother look?"

"..Troubled, dying."

"How about your father?"

"Like he couldn't care less if she died right then."

"And your sister?"

"She's sticking close to our mother, looking hurt and scared, holding onto my hand."

"And what about you?"

"..... I'm terrified. I'm clutching onto my sister's hand, hiding behind mom's skirt. And I have the guiltiest look on my face."

"Guilty?"

"Hmm."

"Why?"

"Because that's what I always did, I hid. I never, ever got beat up by my father because my mother and sister always had my back. But I never got beat up because I was so terrified I never left my room, never tried to protect them or even attend to their wounds. I was always running. Still am."

"Thank you, Vanessa."

I'm weeping. I'm sitting on my bed, weeping. The door's locked and Rosie tried talking to me many times but I still haven't spoken to her or stopped crying.

It's been a long time, I can tell, because it's now nightfall. I manage to cry myself to sleep, and even then, I find myself crying in my dream.

Jesse tries to talk to me, but I ignore his attempts, until he sits beside me, looking around in that searching manner of his.

"I should, uh, go now. Um, bye..." he says, awkwardly, walking away.

"You're running a fever!" Seth tells me, when he shook my hand in college.

I shrug, "Don't tell anyone. Especially not Allie."

He shrugs, "Okay, but watch yourself, kid."

I'm running again. I don't know why. I don't even know how I got here. My brain's all woozy, but my legs are still pumping and making their way forward. I've been running slower I think, but that's only because I can't really see where the track is, it keeps moving.

I trip on my feet and fall over, eyes closing as I lose the strength to get up.

"Janessa! Ja-saa! S'wrong? My -od!"

"Esse, I'm -ine."

I can see the trees going out of focus and if it's my mind that controls it, I know that is exactly what Jesse can see too.

"Ssa!! -ts happen-?"

"Wha-?"

"Essa! Ssa!"

The forest is-- glitching. The trees, the sky, the moon.

What is happening?

"Esse, ca- uo hear me-?"

"I'm ...--help. Wait --ere."

"Vanessa! Can you hear me? Vanessa!"

"Allie?"

"Why didn't you tell me earlier, Seth?"

"I didn't think she'd pass out!"

Pass out? Did I pass out?

How did I have a dream then--?

"Al-Allie, how long was I out for?"

"Nearly two hours! We just found you. It was Sarah that told us too and brought you to the infirmary."

"Two hours...?"