Page 32 of Letters to the Lost

I sit here for what feels like an eternity, twisting my fingers as I try to think of something but every time I open my mouth to answer his question, my mind goes blank.

“I don’t know.”

We sit in silence as he scribbles his notes, my gaze perusing the room as he does to try to pass the time. There is no clock in here.

Not wanting to rush our sessions with the tick of the clock, therapy lasts all day if we need it to.

I’ve only done it once when we discussed who Charlie was, the darkness nearly took over that day and doctor Karskin insisted on an all-day session to ensure my safety.

If Dominic wasn’t here, I worry about what could have happened. He held me extra tight that night and didn’t even ask me to explain. He took one look at my tear-stained face, my breath still hiccupping in my chest as I made my way back to my room and drew me into his arms.

My therapist places his notebook down on the table, uncrosses his legs, and leans forward, rubbing his palms on his pants.

“You need to discover who you are before you can move forward fully, Autumn. You spent years being oppressed by the people who should have wanted you to flourish, who should have encouraged it. You need to learn what you love, so you can begin to love yourself. You are a smart and kind woman, Autumn, something you should be incredibly proud of. I do not doubt that you will do amazing things in life,” he pauses to look at me, making eye contact, “You will have bad days where the thoughts creep in and try to coax you into the darkness as you describe. Surround yourself with things and people that you love, do the techniques I have taught you and do not hesitate to contact me if you need someone to talk to.”

“Thank you…” I respond, wondering why it feels like he’s dismissing me, “Will I not be seeing you tomorrow?”

“You go home tomorrow,” he laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides, “Did you forget?”

“I guess I did,” I murmur.

How did I forget how long I have been here? I’ve missed everyone terribly, but I don’t want to leave.

This place is safe. I’m monitored here. What if I go home and I go right back to what I was like before?

“I can see the thoughts churning in that brain of yours. It will be okay, and the panic you are feeling about leaving here is to be expected after such intense sessions. But as long as you stick to what I’ve taught you, and continue to write those letters, I believe you will learn to be happy. Grief is a horrible thing, Autumn, but it is necessary. The pain of losing someone you love reminds us that life is short and that you should make it count.”

“Thank you for everything,” I tell him, needing him to know how much help he’s provided me the last six weeks.

“It was no problem, Autumn. Now I want to set up an appointment for you a week from now, so I can see how you are settling at home.”

“That’s fine, I’ll speak to you next week then,” I reply, before leaving the room for the last time.

“Are you ready, Cupcake?” Dominic asks me from my doorway, his bag in his hand. The black ring that rests on his middle finger glints in the sunlight as he flexes his fingers around the handle, his piercing blue eyes fixated on me as I move around the room packing the last of my things.

“I guess so, nervous to go home. What if I mess up again?” I ask him, my tone laced with worry.

“Then you’ll mess up, as long as you try to come to us when you start feeling unwell. We’ll be here for you every step of the way,” he reminds me, dropping his bag, he makes his way across the room to me, pulling me into his arms and kissing me, “God, do you have any idea how hard I’ve been for the past six weeks and not being able to taste you.”

“You have a perfectly good hand there,” I laugh, nodding to the tattooed hand that is twitching at his side, “Missing your knife?”

“So much,” He moans, “I feel like I’m missing a limb, not having it.”

“Poor pet,” I pout at him mockingly, squealing when he lunges for me.

“I hate that nickname Cupcake. Please, please,pleaseeee,can I have a different one?” he begs me, attempting puppy eyes as he looks down at me.

“Nope, it stays.”

“And people say I’m the unhinged one. You are just plain evil.”

Swatting his arm, I can’t help the laughter that tumbles out of me as he continues to pout.

“Come on, help me pack the rest of my stuff,” I tell him, cutting our messing around off needing to finish packing my things away, making sure to grab Bun from the bed.

“Do you think the others will be mad that you were here?” I ask Dominic as we wait in the reception for our discharge papers from Doctor Karskin.

Dominic just shrugs “I don’t care. I did what I had to, to keep you safe while not jeopardizing your healing.”

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