Chapter 7
Iunlock my phone and double check the address again. This is definitely the place.
It looks like a small office building. I go up to the keypad on the door and look for Doctor Satin’s name.
I’ve decided to take Kai’s advice and go see a therapist. If I want a fresh start I need to work on myself.
I think this will be good for me. My palms are sweaty and I’m way too hot for this.
Hopefully it’s cooler inside. I ring Doctor Satin through the keypad and the door unlocks with a click sound.
The door swings open on it’s own and I take a deep breath before entering.
The inside looks typical for a shared office building. I look for office number three, which has a sign with Doctor Satin on it. I give it a knock and a voice comes from inside.
“Come in.” I open the door and I’m greeted by Doctor Satin, who is sitting in a standard office chair.
He looks like a smart man; he wears glasses and a dark blue shirt with a relaxed black tie.
He adjusts his glasses above the bridge of his nose as he motions for me to sit across from him.
I sit down as instructed. I scan the room and notice that behind him, there are several filing cabinets.
There’s a small vase on top of one, housing a bouquet of withered roses.
They look like they’ve been there for a while. Mr Satin catches me looking at them.
“I know what you’re going to say, I should really get those cleaned up, eh?” He says, a small laugh escapes him. He goes into one of the drawers and brings out some paperwork, setting it in front of him on the desk.
“It’s Noah, right? What’s your second name?” He asks, clicking his pen.
“Wright,” I say, resulting in a puzzled expression from the man across from me.
“Wright as in with a w?” He asks, leaning forward in his chair slightly.
“Yeah with a w.”
“Oh right, sorry… I wasn’t too sure there,” he says, writing it down. He looks back up at me.
“It’s okay, I’m used to correcting people, but you guessed right so…” I tell him. He flashes me a smile before placing his pen down and sliding it towards me.
“Could I also get you to write down your address in that box there,” he says, pointing to the paperwork he is sliding towards me. I write down Kai’s address and pass it back.
“Okay I have just a few more questions to ask you, just so I can get to know you and your situation sort of thing. That okay?” He asks as he clasps his hands together. I nod.
“Okay, so what is your medical history, have you been diagnosed with any mental health issues?” He asks. I adjust myself in my seat before I answer. It’s a hard seat, not very comfortable.
“Well, I’ve not been officially diagnosed with anything,” I reply, my fingers rubbing the back of my left hand.
“Any suicidal thoughts?”
“Not right this second.”
“But you have a history?” He asks, his voice rising up an octave.
“Well the reason I came home from university was because I was about to jump off a building. My friend convinced me to come back here and start fresh, get a job, that sort of thing,” I explain, my heart beating faster and faster. My palms are wet. My voice quivers as I talk.
“And are you working now?”
“Yeah I just got a job at the bookshop—”
“The one down the road?” Doctor Satin interrupts, pointing in the general direction to the bookshop. I nod as he gets his pen out again.
“Yeah, I know the one you mean. So can I just go ahead and write down gay as your sexuality?” He asks and I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Why do you need to know my sexuality?”
“Oh, I don’t make the paperwork.”
“Who does then?” I ask, my tone surprises me. Doctor Satin chuckles to himself quietly as he places the paperwork in a drawer.
“You don’t seem very trusting of people, Noah, even someone like me, who is just here to help you.
Where do you think your trust issues have stemmed from?
” He asks, and my heart skips a beat. I don’t know how to reply to that.
It could be anything. My mother told me that we had all the time in the world before she was killed.
It could be that. Or it could be the fact that Jonathan was supposed to be a friend, but he took advantage of me.
Maybe it was that. Or a combination of these things. I’m not sure what to say to him though.
“You’ve sussed me out that quickly?” I chuckle nervously, trying to get off the topic.
“Yeah, I guess I did,” he smiles.
“I think it started when my mum died. I just stopped trusting that the world was… fair… I guess.”
“Why do you think the world is unfair?” He asks, his eyes staring into my soul the entire time. Eye contact makes me nervous, so I look down at my fidgeting hands.
“I think it’s because I keep getting hurt. People I don’t even know have hurt me, people I trust have hurt me. It’s just been… a lot to deal with,” I say, my eyes threatening to spill over.
“I say this to everyone, but it’s because it’s true.
Yes, the world is unfair, but it’s about how we deal with the unfairness of it all.
I think you just have to look at life like a running track.
There’s hurdles you have to jump over every so often.
After jumping over so many hurdles in your life, you begin to get tired.
It gets harder to jump over them with ease.
So you half-ass it. You land funny, your ankles get sore.
You don’t think you can finish the race.
You might even want to give up. But the more you learn about running, and how to jump over the hurdles better and faster, you’ll begin to get into a flow.
There’s always going to be hurdles, they don’t just clear them away halfway down the track.
But it gets easier to manage because you’ve taken the time to learn about the art of getting over them.
Do you get what I’m trying to say Noah?” Doctor Satin asks as my mind processes all of that.
I come to the conclusion that it’s actually really good advice.
“I think I made the right decision coming here. I’m just trying to learn how to get over the hurdles,” I tell him as he gives me a soft smile.
“That’s good. So you mentioned your mother’s passing. How are you dealing with it?” He asks, taking a sip of water. I feel my brain scramble for something to say. How have I been dealing with it?
“Not very well, I think. I keep having these dreams, but they feel so… real,” I say, thinking back to the other morning. I can’t help but feel like I’ll have nightmares for the rest of my life.
“That sounds like PTSD,” Doctor Satin tells me, grabbing the paperwork again and writing something down.
“Sometimes I have nightmares about other things though, it’s not just my Mum,” I tell him, flashes of Jonathan’s face appear in my mind. I wish I didn’t remember the details of his face so vividly, or remember the feeling of his breath on my naked flesh.
“You can have flashbacks to any trauma in your life, in fact, it usually doesn’t focus on one single thing. What are these other things you are referring to?” he asks, his eyes piercing through my soul again.
“I was… um…” I trail off, struggling to get the words out. My eyes want to drip crimson, but I take a deep breath and hold it back.
“I had a friend at university, he had invited me and my roommate to a house party he was having. Part of me wanted to go, while another part of me didn’t.
I was never one for parties, especially ones that I didn’t know anyone at.
So I found myself talking to this friend,” I explain, Doctor Satin listening intensely.
I think back to the party, about how there was a bonfire in the back garden. The heat it gave off made me relax to the point I didn’t realise how drunk and high I was. The room was spinning and my head was heavy. Someone’s arm was around me while the fire crackled and popped in front of us.
It was Jonathan’s arm.
I focused on the fire for what felt like a while. I adore the way fire dances and spins around like a couple in a ball room. Oh, how I wish I could be fire. Maybe if I was more like fire, I wouldn’t ever be hurt again.
I tried to get up, but realised I couldn’t. My legs wouldn’t move. Then panic set in.
Jonathan was practically waterboarding me with alcohol when I should have been with Arthur instead. I practically ditched him. My thoughts ran, but my speech slurred.
“Arthur… I… need to be with Arthur… I—”
“You don’t want to be with him right now,” Jonathan said clearly. No slurring. I don’t think he’d had very much to drink.
“No… I do,” I said as I tried to get up but the alcohol said no.
“Don’t you like me?” The monster said, moving fingers to the inside of my shirt, undoing buttons.
I looked around me to see bottles of random spirits around my feet.
I hadn’t remembered drinking them. He had been feeding me the poison that lingered on my lips - I could feel a fire in my throat.
I flicked his hand away and tried to get up again, but Jonathan stood up and held me down in the chair.
“Where are you going?” He stood so tall that it made my eyes burn. But I had to be strong. I couldn’t cry just because someone was taller than me, or because I was scared.
“Let me go see Arthur,” I pleaded, clearer now.
“I thought you liked me?” The monster asked again.
“I did… but not really. I… Arthur, they’re my friend.”
“Do you want more to drink? I think there’s more vodka in the—”
“No.”
He looked puzzled. He sat back down. He knew I wouldn’t be able to get back up without help, and he wasn’t about to do that.
My drunk brain knew I couldn’t move. I tried, but the alcohol said no again.
I wrapped my arms around myself. I was cold, and the alcohol wasn’t keeping me warm anymore.
I felt stupid. How had it gotten to this point?
Then it got worse.