23. Bethany
Chapter 23
Bethany
“ T hink for a second. What happened right before you felt the panic set in?” I ask the young woman sitting across from me in my office.
Three weeks ago, Maddie sought my help after experiencing a major meltdown in the crowded cafeteria. Traumatized by a shooting at her sorority house at a larger university, she transferred to GSU. She now lives at home and commutes two hours one way to attend classes. Our focus is on supporting her healing journey, providing comfort and guidance as she processes this painful experience and steps toward a brighter future. To teach her how to cope with the aftermath. Getting comfortable with the idea of moving to an apartment near campus, independent from her parents. But first, we need to make sure she has the knowledge and skills to manage and identify her triggers.
“It’s stupid.” With a slight tilt of her body, she leans over and retrieves another tissue from the box.
“You have to stop saying that. Nothing is stupid if it makes you feel uneasy.” I lift my skirt, revealing a constellation of pale, raised scars on my legs. “Over the summer, I was in a horrible accident. You know what sent me into a panic the first time I got back behind the wheel?”
A single tear rolls down her cheek as she shakes her head. Her shoulders hunch over in defeat.
“A goddamn song. I don’t know why. Perhaps it was playing when the accident occurred. I can’t remember. And I’ve listened to this damn song several times after and never experienced a thing. I was driving, and it started playing and suddenly I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had to pull over. It was one of my favorites.” The mere mention of the experience brings a heaviness to my chest, as if a dark cloud looms above me. Despite the weight of the memory, I stay composed and set it aside, allowing myself a moment of respite.
“Was?” Maddie’s hiccup betrays her attempt to keep her emotions in check. “So, you don’t listen to it anymore?”
“I still listen to it, Maddie, just not while I’m driving. At least not for now, maybe one day.” In order for her to trust me to help her, I can’t hide the issues I struggle with. “It’s a process, and eventually I’ll desensitize my reaction to the song. It’s a mind over matter approach, and it works differently for everyone. Not all traumas can be treated the same way. And that’s okay. That’s why we’re here, putting in the work. The more we talk, and you open up with me, the easier it’ll be for us to figure out which one works best for you.”
“Someone bumped my chair.” The tone of Maddie’s voice reflects her anger. “My fucking chair. Do you know how many times a day that happens?”
“No, but I bet you do.”
“A lot.” Her shoulders droop even more as defeat washes over her, and she recounts the event when her world fell apart. “Everyone in the sorority ran out of fear. Terrified, they rushed toward the two exits, creating a stampede. I was trapped in a corner of the rec room with my… with my boyfriend. He’d been shot. He tried to be brave, protect me the best he could with the chaos happening around us. But he was badly hurt and there were too many people.”
I’ve heard this part before, and it kills me every time.
“He died in my arms.” She reaches up and swipes angrily at her tears. “Even in that moment, his only thought was about me. He offered himself as a shield, knowing it would be the last act of love he could give me. He ordered me to get in the goddamn corner and hide like a fucking coward. And you know what I did?”
This is the part that hurts her the most. But she did what she had to do to survive. Survivors’ guilt is a haunting and complex emotion that can drive one to contemplate suicide to escape. She may never get over the guilt, but she’ll learn to live with it. Suicide is an issue Maddie has been grappling with, and another reason she knew she needed help.
“Do you remember what I told you to do when your mind takes you down this road?”
She nods, barely suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. “List five reasons my survival was important to him.”
It’s vital she comprehends the value of her life and lets go of any guilt she feels for being alive and thriving. Showcasing the far-reaching effects her survival has had on the world and highlighting the difference her presence has made is my responsibility.
“Fine.” On a grunt, she raises her hand to tick them off. “This is hard.”
“I know. And as time passes, your five things will change because you haven’t lived life to its fullest yet.”
“I identified the shooter.” Glistening with unshed tears, her eyes grow glassy, mirroring the profound heartache that weighs heavily on her soul. “He thought I was dead, so he removed his mask before standing in the room to admire his work. There was a haunting darkness in his eyes that reflected his soul. He was someone I knew. Someone who claimed to be a friend to my boyfriend. He always gave me weird vibes. I can’t explain it. And when he looked around the room and smiled, I was so scared he’d look at me, realize I wasn’t dead and kill me. I still have nightmares.”
This poor girl has been through hell, and I hold the deepest respect for her bravery.
“And because you could identify him, the police stopped him from doing it again. He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison. And that’s because of you.”
Despite the ongoing nature of the case, the evidence made public is nothing short of mind-boggling. The young man, who caused the deaths of ten college students and an elderly man who courageously stepped in, will now have to confront the full magnitude of his actions.
“Go on.”
After a few beats, there’s a shift in her demeanor as she reveals, “I talked to my sister yesterday. We’re going to take that trip.”
“The mission trip?”
“Yes.” Maddie’s bright smile shows we’re making headway. “I’m excited. Not so much about the whole churchy thing. I’m still not sure how I feel about God after living through this, but I’m excited to help build a school. And my sister is doing better now. Rehab is going well. I’m not so sure she’d have kicked her habit had things turned out differently.”
“I’m happy to hear that. Sometimes it’s the wake-up calls that help us see the light.” I do my best to keep us on track. “One more.”
“I donated blood for the first time last week.” She takes a deep breath and shakes out her hands. “I know that seems silly, but the idea always made me nauseous. Billy was a donor. He was O negative, so he understood how important it was for someone with his blood type. While mine is more common, it felt good to know I carried that on for him, helping someone else who might need it.”
“All great things, Maddie. This week I want you to visit our commons area.” She shakes her head vigorously, her eyes wide with fear. “Listen, before you tell me no. When it’s not busy. Not during lunch or dinner hours. Maybe breakfast.”
“I’ll try.” Her grip on the tissue tightens and grunts out of frustration. “But I make no promises. Breakfast is early and I hate mornings.”
Her honesty makes me chuckle. “Maybe a late one then. Before our class, that starts at ten.”
“We’ll see.”
As I wrap up our session, I reinforce how proud I am of her for looking after herself. Praising positive behavior is something I believe encourages those struggling.
Once she’s gathered her belongings, I open the door and tell her to have a great rest of her day. Then I make my way to my desk and sit down to add notes about our session. I like to do that while it’s fresh on my mind.
Just as I’m finishing, my desk phone rings, and I instinctively answer it. “Dr. Rogan.”
The line is silent.
“Hello? This is Dr. Rogan. Is anyone there?”
“Mom, I swear I didn’t fuck up.”
Hearing words like that from my fifteen-year-old son tells me my day is about to get ugly fast.
“Why are you calling my office phone and not my cell, Finn?” I hit the return key and close the program I was working on. “Explain.”
“First, I don’t know how they got in my locker. I let Gage use it, but he swears it’s not his either.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Where are you?”
“Coach’s office.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. You can tell me more then.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. Seriously, though, not mine. I think Gage knows more, but I can’t prove shit.”
“Ten, Finn.” I glance at the clock on my computer. “Are you by yourself?”
“No.” His word fades off. “There are three of us here.”
“Is your brother one of them?” I really hope not.
His next words come out rushed. “He is, but only because he heard about it and stormed in to defend me.”
To stop myself from yelling, I clench my jaw tight. “Tell him I said to go home. Who else besides Gage?”
“Nicky. He’s on the phone with his mom now.”
Well, at least I’m not alone. Why do our boys always get into trouble together? I was hoping for a nice, calm year after the summer I suffered through. Is that too much to ask for? Apparently so.
“I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you in ten. Tell Felix if he’s there when I get there, his punishment will be equally as harsh, and I’ll confiscate his computers.” I barely get the words out before I hear my other son’s voice.
“Leaving now. Good luck, man. And Gage, I’d watch my back if I were you.”
I hang up. I’m sure Finn’s coach will put a stop to the threat and remind my way too smart for his own good son that it would be wise to let the adults handle this.
As I’m walking out, I send a text to Nolan.
ME:
Sorry, but I need to cancel. Finn did something stupid, and now I have to go to the school to deal with that. How are you feeling?
I really wanted to check on him tonight. He’s another stupid male who believes he’s got his shit together and can handle things on his own. While I hope he’s right, I have my doubts and kind of want him to come crawling to me and ask how I can help. I’ve seen it enough times. Have counseled my share of first responders after a close call or a bad one. Nine times out of ten, it hits them harder than they anticipated, and they’re forced to face the truth that they, too, are human, even though others see them as heroes.
NOLAN:
I’m fine. Do you want me to call you later so you can talk about what stupid shit Finn did? I might be able to help. I used to be a dumb teenage boy, believe it or not.
That actually makes me laugh. No shit.
ME:
I believe it. I’ll call you after I get him home and decide WTF to do with him. It’s times like this I wish Davis wasn’t such a fuck up. I blame him for all the bad shit his boys do.
NOLAN:
Let me guess, they’re his boys when they do bad shit and yours when they do amazing things? Makes perfect sense to me.
I smile and debate in my head if I should type this or not. Once I’m in the car, I take a chance.
ME:
This is why you make such a great boyfriend.
With a flick of my wrist, I toss the phone onto the seat next to me, not sure I want to see his response. As I’m driving, I hear it buzz in the seat a few times, but ignore it. After I’ve parked and before I get out, I reach over and grab it to read it before dealing with my son.
NOLAN:
And now I’m hard. As soon as you’ve dealt with Finn, your boyfriend wants you to come to his house so he can punish you for being so damn stubborn.