Three

-Sam-

Sterling residences

Howard area, Chicago

Terra, Earth Solar system

Neutral Free zone

January 14th 2019

 Sam anxiously beheld the water-stained mirror, her face reflecting at her, looking puffy and watery. There was nothing that she hated more than staring at her reflection. The dark circles around her eyes were a sign of staying up all night. She had been unable to sleep, nightmares from her consciousness kept her awake. She tried to forget about it but she just couldn't. She could feel the tension from last night's nightmare, bubbling within her stomach. The sensation of drowning, trying her best to fight against the pull of the abyss dragging her down into the darkness. She did her best to fight, to survive, and yet she was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of the guilt, the pain... Sam took a deep breath and began the exercise her therapist taught her. Count to five and repeat it over and over again. Until the pressure went away. But it never did...at least not for her. She could always feel it deep somewhere within her mind, though it was easier to ignore it after doing the exercise. She opened the drawer and took out her pill. Sam paused as she frowned at it. She wasn't sure if she wanted to keep taking it. It had been six months since Sam started using them again, even though she had hoped to never resort to it again in her life. She had made the biggest mistake ever, believing that she could control her affliction and make it not affect her day-to-day life. And so far it had worked out quite well for her... for a while at least. She knew it wasn't right to use her affliction as an advantage to get what she wanted but it had felt good to truly embrace herself.. to feel like she was being my true self. Then it all came crashing down that night. The control that she thought she had mastered, was all an illusion in her head. To be honest, there had been situations where she had been this close to losing control... But she had always managed to keep it in check. But that night...that night something strange had happened. She could still see the blood... no...no... it wouldn't do good for me to dwell on things that I couldn't change. She opened the bottle and took two pills from it. She swallowed them and sipped the water from the cup by the sink. There was a knock at the door and it opened, Henry popped his head inside.

"Are you feeling good?" He asked. Henry tried his best to hide the look of concern on his face but she could see it clearly on it. In fact, it was seeping out of him and mixing with her's that it was kind of hard for her to breathe. Damn, the effects of these pills were taking too long. She decided to go for her favorite defense mechanism: Sarcasm.

"Well I just had a whole bunch of drugs for breakfast, so yeah, I'm feeling quite good," Sam said. She felt a tingle of annoyance from him and then it was gone, replaced by more concern for her well-being. She tried her best to make a smile as Henry kissed her on the lips. He had been so supportive of her since the incident. And things between them had kind of gotten better. Better than it had ever been. Even though there were still things that she was keeping from him. Things that she couldn't tell him because she had to protect him. Or maybe she was just protecting what was left of her sanity.

"Do you want me to make breakfast for you?" He said. " A proper breakfast, this time."

"Um...No thanks, I'm late for class. I'll get some from Denning's Donuts by Gateway Plaza." Sam said. She felt her stomach convulse as the sour taste of disappointment hung in the air. "I'm gonna shower and meet you downstairs."

"Sure," He said, kissing her on the cheeks. Sam's body involuntary shuddered, out of past habit. She was still going through her anxiety, and physical contact weirded her out. Henry pretended not to notice it. Sam closed the door and sighed, feeling the intensity of the emotional tension in the air subside. What the hell was she thinking? Damn it, Sam wasn't sure how long she could keep pretending everything was right with her. She definitely needed to get a handle on this. She thought to herself. Before she broke apart again, Sam took her promise ring off her finger and put it by the sink as she got ready to shower. After showering and getting dressed, Sam went down the stairs to the studio where Henry was finishing up on his rendition of Francisco Goya's painting of the third of May while listening to the News on the TV. There was a broadcast on the news about some kind of outbreak going on in New York. News of it had begun to spread throughout the news outlet. The government was trying their best to do something about it but it was an unknown virus. Which means New York would be Quarantined soon. It made Sam think of Stella. She was back there, in New York, her little hometown of Cedar Lake. Before she could get the full gist of what was going on, Henry switched the TV off.

"Hey! You're ready." He said. He had on an apron that was stained with lots of colors, and his shaggy beard was also stained with paint.

"Nearly done with the painting," Sam said. She was carrying her Cello case for her musical class that she had for the first period.

"Yeah, almost done with it." He said. He dropped his paintbrush and walked over to her, a tiny smile creeping upon his face. "So you never answered my question as to whether you would come with me to the Gallery's gala tonight. Do you think you can make it this time?" The Annual fall gala was a yearly event where Henry's Gallery- Reggie Sullivan Center, one of the art galleries owned by her school-exhibited some of their artwork to their benefactors for auctions. It was one of those events that Henry liked to take her to every month since they'd been together even though she found the events to be highly boring and a waste of her time. Sometimes she suspected that he took her to the events to show her off to his patrons like one of his paintings. Sam wasn't sure if she had it in her to make it to another one this year. She had refused to give him an answer because she hadn't been in the mood to deal with the guilt... of disappointing him by refusing. You need to open up and work on what You want, Sam. Dr.Dingle would say. But it was harder than one would think, to go after what you truly wanted. Especially when you don't even know what it is.

"I'm not sure. I've got lots of practice to catch up on." Sam said, pointing at her Cello case. "You know it's my first day back..to school."

"C'mon. I'll even throw in one of your own paintings." Henry said.

"Henry, you know I don't like showing my art in public," Sam said. He smiled and hugged his arms around her waist. She took in a deep breath of air, counting down the hours in her head. She tried her best not to make her face squirm. But Henry saw it. He let go of her. He was trying his best to be patient. After what had happened to her, he understood her behavior...but even his patience was running out.

"Your art is just as beautiful as you are. It deserves to be seen." He said. Just as she deserved to be paraded around like your silly paintings. "As a fellow artist, I recommend you put out your art, out there for the whole world to see." Ugh! Sam was tired of explaining her reasons to Henry for why she was hesitant to put up her art like he was. He just didn't get it... She moved away and walked over to the kitchen. She grabbed her bag and car keys from the kitchen mantel.

"You know I've got too much work to do. Please, I don't want to rehash this all over again." Sam said ignoring the smell of concern that was beginning to waft through the room. She was getting tired of the waves of emotions she was getting from him. Those pills of hers were becoming quite useless.

"Look I get it, ok. It's just that things have been kind of smooth between us since you took a break from your studies..." Henry said. "I mean, we get to see more of each other unlike before, when you took up lots of courses that you didn't even need. And we didn't have to hide our relationship, either. I just want things to remain the way they are now. I think this party would be good for us." Sam looked at the ring on her finger, the diamond sparkled from the light. Sam still had no idea why she was in a relationship with Henry. What had pushed her into having a boyfriend who she wasn't that sexual with in the first place? It wasn't like she was madly in love with Henry. And yet Sam had jumped into being with him without so much as a thought. That was because Sam desired connection. She wanted to be wanted... to be touched and to be in love like a normal person. But Sam was anything but normal. She was a twenty year old girl with mental health problems. And her relationship with Henry was just her trying to act normal.

"Which painting do you think I should show off then?" Sam relented. There was no point fighting him over the matter. Better to just give in to him.

"The constellation of Venus. I think that one would do quite good." He said. Sam tried her best not to groan at his choice. She had painted that one back when she was in high school before she had dropped out. Sam thought it was one of her worst art but Henry for some reason kind of liked it.

"Not that one. Please!" Sam said. He smiled and came by her, putting his hands around Sam again.

"Why not? I think that would make our benefactors really happy." He said. Sam groaned at him, raking her mind for any other option instead of that one.

"If you want me to come, you'll pick another one instead of that." Sam finally said.

"Hmm, you drive a hard bargain, Sammy." He said. "Ok. What about the Star of Melody painting? You told me that was the first painting you ever did." The Star of Melody. That painting. Sam's heart tugged against her chest. She wasn't sure if she could show it to anyone. Not sure if they would understand what it meant to her. Even Henry didn't get it when she showed it to him. Sam looked up at his brown eyes and she could have sworn there was a muddy forest green aura glowing from it. Sam sighed and decided not to push it. Seeing strange colors was not new to her.

"Fine. You can use that one." Sam said. He grinned and attempted to kiss her but Sam managed to get around his attempt. "Don't wanna be late on my first day back."

"Alright, see you later tonight." He said waving at Sam as she got out of the apartment.

*

 Sam got out from Denning's donut, a cup of coffee, and her phone in both of her hands. She was checking through her missed calls, looking at the number that she had been ignoring for a while. The number belonged to Stella. She had called while Sam had been in the shower and after she left Henry, but Sam didn't feel like talking to her. She hadn't spoken to her in a long time, not since Stella came to visit her while she was in the hospital last year. Her relationship with her guardian was a bit... complicated. Though she worried a lot about Sam and treated her like she was a fragile object, Sam's feelings towards Stella, especially the way she treated her while she was a teenager, always made Sam uncomfortable around her. And then Sam had picked a fight with her as soon as she got out of the hospital and they hadn't talked much like they used to. It was their fight that had pushed Sam towards leaving her dorm room and moving in with Henry. Sam took a glimpse at the ring on her finger and she knew Stella wouldn't approve of it. She never liked Henry and it had been because of their relationship that Sam had pushed her completely from her life these past months. Sam put her phone away as she walked through the gates of Yesh University, an academic Institute that was well known across the globe. Sam couldn't help but smile as her eyes took in the grandiose buildings that were laid across the 6,078 acres of land. Yesh University was a prestigious university with satellite campuses around the state, known for its tough curriculum and its success rate. Many successful and famous people in the world were alumni of the school. If you want to be something or somebody in the world, this was the school you had to go to. For some reason, Sam knew this was the school meant for her. And through some fortunate luck, Sam had gained a scholarship that allowed her to choose whatever campus in any city that she wanted to go to. She had chosen the one in Chicago so she could get away from New York and it had strained her relationship with Stella. Sam chose Chicago because she needed to get away from the memory of her life back in Cedar Lake but it hadn't been easy. The usual guilt began creeping up again but Sam chased it off and took the path that would lead her to her first day of class, Music Performance II. The class took place in one of the many auditoriums that the school had. Sam stood outside the door, taking a deep breath. It was two weeks now since Sam had returned to school, after her break which saw her nearly fail most of her classes from her first year. Music was the only subject she had managed to do well and now she was taking the next course. She felt the weight of the Cello on her back, the instrument was something she was still getting used to. She had discovered her love for playing the instrument, though becoming a composer was still something Sam would love to do. Sam felt a lump in her throat, peeping through the window of the door, into the auditorium to find it packed with students.

"Sam," a voice said. Behind her was an acquaintance from last year. Callum Ayida. He was of average height with dark skin and low-cut curly hair. He wore a dashiki t-shirt and jeans, a black huge bag on his back that contained his musical instrument.

"Callum," Sam said. He had been in some of her classes from last year and had been quite friendly to her. She remembered him inviting her to many social events which she had declined due to her nervousness around strangers.

"You going in," He said. Sam nodded forced to enter the auditorium with Callum following her. "So how was your weekend,"

"It was great," Sam said as they joined the rest of the class on top of the stages. Callum nodded before going over to where those who played the Tuba all the way in the back, while Sam took a seat among the Cellists. She sighed as she saw that the only empty spot left was next to Rosalinda Chavez. Rosa gave Sam a smile which she returned as she took the seat. She noticed eyes staring at her, but Sam ignored them. She was pretty sure that rumors about her were still going on, but she had decided to ignore them and focus on what truly mattered. Which was getting back on track with her life. Her phone vibrated, forcing her to put it on silent as the Professor for the class came in.

"Now, for today, we will be going over the assignment that you were assigned last week," The professor began the class. Most of the students groaned while Sam bought out the musical notes she had composed. Becoming a composer for the Edelman Symphony Orchestra was a dream for Sam. If everything goes according to her plan, she would not only become a composer. She might also be its principal conductor. When it came to Sam's turn to play the notes she had written, she felt a nervous energy within her. She could feel all eyes on her, so she tried her best to ignore it. Instead, she focused on her instrument and her notes. Clear your thoughts on all the nonsense. Focus on your breathing, and play from deep within your heart. That was Sam's mantra, and then she began to play the notes. At first, she began playing slowly, tuning her instruments to the right fits, and then the melody began. The song filled the auditorium, the euphonious tone of the music capturing all the attention of everyone as Sam increased the tempo, and then at the final piece, she began to slow it down again till she was done. Sam panted as she lowered her bow away from the Cello as the professor and the rest of the class applauded her. Sam couldn't help smiling. Even Rosa, who had elected applause for her own music, was clapping hard for Sam. There was a stunning look on her face. 

"Bravo, Samantha," Professor Cessian said. "Glad to see you're back in top shape. Next!" For the rest of the class, Sam listened as the others played their own while she began to cross check the notes she had written. She felt like she was missing something, so she wanted to make sure it was right.

"Sam! Sam!" Sam looked up from her notes, realizing that class was over and people were leaving. Rosa was packed up, ready to leave. 

"Shit," She muttered. She put her notes in her bag and packed up her Cello as she left the auditorium with Rosa.

"So how's Henry," Sam flinched at Henry's name coming out of her mouth. Before things got serious with Henry, Rosa and she had been going out at the same time. Sam had left her because she wanted to give Henry a serious chance. Their breakup had not been amicable, so ever since then, Sam had hardly seen her. 

"He's okay. He wants to show off my art at the gala that Reggie Sullivan gallery's throwing tonight," Sam said.

"You should let him," Rosa said. She didn't like Henry, but she agreed that Sam's gift should be shared with the world. "Your art deserves to be shown off,"

"That's what Henry said," Sam said numbly. Rosa frowned, not liking to be compared to Henry. There was an awkward silence between them.

"I heard about what happened..." Rosa began. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me to visit after the way things ended between us...the way I acted..."

"It's okay," Sam said. She wasn't fond of looking back into the past, as there were things that she would rather forget. Rosa stared at Sam for a minute and gave her a smile. Sam noticed the faint bluish aura that had appeared around her, and she could sense her feelings towards her. A part of Rosa still wanted Sam, still craved for her, and Sam knew it wasn't good. Even with her pills, Sam could still sense it, still feel it though it wasn't as strong as it would have been without the pills. It had been hours since Sam took the pills, so why was her affliction still affecting her?

"Do you have a class next...we could go for.." 

"I have therapy this afternoon," Sam interjected. The look on Rosa's face didn't have to tell Sam she was disappointed. She could smell and feel it. "I'll see you later." Sam quickly left her, taking her phone out of her pocket and dialing Stella. Sam went to the first restroom she could find and entered a stall where the call finally got answered.

"Samantha, Finally, dear" Stella's voice was low from her end.

"Did I call you at a bad time," Sam said. She thought of the situation that was going on in the city. Luckily the outbreak didn't spread beyond the city.

"It's a busy day at the clinic," Stella said. She was a nurse at the local clinic in their hometown. Sam remembered the days when she was always working the overnight shifts. "How are you, Samantha,"

"I'm fine," Sam lied. She wanted to tell her that the pills were not working the same. That something felt off about it. She wanted to tell her about the nightmare that kept her from sleeping, but there was a gaping distance between them. She didn't know what to say.

"Are you taking the pills," She asked. She was always set on asking Sam if she was taking her pills. The herbal pills that she had somehow gotten helped with Sam's affliction. Stella had never told her where she got it from and whenever she asked, she would be silent. And she was always adamant about reminding her to take the pills. And Sam did. Because they helped. Normal meds did nothing, and even alcohol was not the best option, something Sam had learned back in high school.

"I mailed the next prescription, so it should be coming to your dorm soon," She said.

"Thanks," Sam said.

"Sam..."

"I gotta go," Sam cut the phone and got out of the stall to the mirror sink. Even with her light brown skin, her face looked palish, and the shadows under her eyes were more pronounced. Sam could feel the pressure, the internal struggle for air, so she did her counting to smooth her mind. After doing multiple counts, she regained her composure and left the restroom.

****

Sam listened to the ticking of the clock that was across from her, relishing in the rhythm of it as she fought to stop her body from fidgeting. She had no idea why she was nervous as she had been coming here for most of her break from school. Sam stared around the room, which was all decorated in white. The couch which she sat on was white with white pillows stashed around it. Even the woman who sat across from her in the white chair was dressed in a white v-neck polka dot jumpsuit. Her blonde hair was tied in a bun, and only a single line of hair was loose from the bun. She had a white notepad by her lap where she was writing notes about Sam. Sam wondered for the fourth time what she was writing about her. In the middle of the room was a white table, a white folder resting on top of it. Sam knew the folder had her medical files on it, which she had gotten from the school when she started seeing her. Sam stared at her watch, wondering when she could get the hell out of here and get to school. She had made sure not to mention to Henry that she was seeing her shrink before going to class. Sam did it because she knew he would insist on coming with her. Sam sighed as she tapped her hand on her knees while her feet finally synched with the rhythm of the ticking. Dr. Dingle was surprised at how nervous Sam was because she had always felt calm and relaxed in the doctor's presence. But even the white, calm soothing aura that permeated from her couldn't stand a chance against the nervous energy in Sam.

"So Samantha, are you glad to be getting back to school." Dr. Dingle said.

" Yeah, I'm..." Sam's fidgeting increased, forcing her to use her left hand to grasp hold of the right one. She knew Dr. Dingle had noticed it, but she said nothing about it. "Sorry... but I'm kind of nervous about today."

"There's nothing to be sorry for. It's actually quite normal to feel that way." She said, "Now, can you tell me why you feel nervous about today?"

"I guess the thought of just coming back to school when everything's been going so well for me in my life doesn't feel right," Sam said. It was a lie. A lie that was way better than the truth. That she still had nightmares about that night. That there were even worse things that kept her from going to sleep other than that night. But Sam couldn't say anything about it. No one knew anything about it, and she preferred it that way. Sam didn't want to end up in a mental hospital for being insane. Dr. Dingle didn't sense the lie because she had gotten so good at hiding her tell from her and feeding her the truth that she wanted to hear from Sam. Not a good thing to do, lying and hiding stuff from someone who could help her..but Sam had learned the hard way that there were things better left unsaid.

" I suppose it's only natural to feel that way," Dr.Dingle said. She scribbled some words on her notepad. "How're things with Henry?"

"You...mean..since the last time I was here," Sam said.

"Yes. In our last session, we were talking about how you still felt uncomfortable with physical intimacy" She said.

"Oh...that...I... uh, I'm still having problem," Sam said. She hugged her arms around herself, conscious of the fact that she had taken off her ring before coming in. She gave Sam a look and then went back to the notepad.

"And are you doing the exercise I taught you" She asked. Sam nodded.

"And you still have problems."

"I've tried. I've tried countless times. But my body...my mind... I just can't get them to.." Sam said. "I..I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Ok. Let's talk about your music. How's the writing going" She said. Now that was something Sam wasn't sure she wanted to talk about. "Samantha, it's very important that we talk about this. For you to heal, you need to talk."

'It's ok." Sam said. Dr. Dingle raised an eyebrow, making her look down at her boots, unable to look the Doctor in the eye. There was a brief moment of silence before she looked right back at the Doctor. She said nothing but stared at Sam, waiting for her to go on. "The writing is going well for now. But I feel like I'm missing something. Like there's something at the edge of my mind..."

"Are you getting enough sleep," Dr. Dingle said. Sam sighed as she thought of her nightmare, the drowning that kept her up. Sam heard a scribbling note from the Doctor's side of the room. "And are you taking your pills,"

"Yes," Sam said.

"And do you still feel tempted to stop taking your pills again?" Dr.Dingle said.

"Yes. But I don't want to." Sam said.

"That's good." Dr. Dingle said. "You suffered a horrible trauma, Samantha. I don't deny that. The fact that you've endured all that, and yet I don't think you've dealt with them completely."

"Dealt with them," Sam asked.

"You lost your mother at childbirth." Dr. Dingle said as she peered through her files. "You lost your father at a young age.."

"I never knew my mother.... at least my biological mother," Sam said. It was something she had always thought about for most of her life. "I have Stella, though."

"And have you spoken to her since you left home?" Dr. Dingle asked. Sam nervously bit her lips, thinking about Stella. Their relationship was extremely strained to the point that Sam felt ashamed when speaking with her.

"No... Yes...Maybe but ...I.." Sam stopped. She didn't know how to explain her relationship with her guardian. There were a lot of things Sam wanted to say. To disclose. Like how she could feel the emotions of others. How the emotions of people around her could change depending on her mood. And how this affliction was the root of her problem. But she could never tell anyone that part of herself. Sam didn't want anyone to think that she was crazy. No more than she appears to look currently, at least. "What do Stella and my mother have to do with my trauma?"

"Sam," Dr. Dingle said. She took a pause, allowing it to stretch out. "You've dealt with loss for most of your life. To the point that it has become a part of you, like a scar." Sam rubbed the sleeve of her left hand. The thin slash underneath it throbbed from the memory of a particular night. "Normally, such a loss would have pushed one past the brink, and yet you survived. You've done the work...but letting fear dictate your actions isn't the answer."

"You think I'm letting fear make my decision," Sam said.

"When it comes to your relationship with your Aunt, yes, I believe you are." Dr. Dingle said. Sam opened her mouth to rebut it, but she couldn't. "I believe the problem you have with your writing lies with the deep-seated guilt you have with your aunt. Until you deal with it, there will always be something lacking in you."