A Pretty Loco Halloween

Prologue

Five Years Prior

I sat across from the empty desk with my mind racing. I was both happy to be going home and nervous about what life would look like for me going forward.

I ran my hand over the cream-colored pants that I was wearing as my leg bounced up and down at light speed and hummed.

After waiting for a little over five minutes, the door finally opened, and in walked the most beautiful woman.

She had rich brown skin, the color of mocha; long black hair that fell to her nonexistent waist; and perfectly done makeup.

It wasn’t too much; it was subtle but made her look so put together.

Her posture and her aura said that she came from money.

The rare Birkin and vintage Chanel loafers she was rocking confirmed my suspicions.

“Hello, I am so sorry I am late. I was held up by an issue at the front. I’m going to be doing your exit interview today, Miss Blanco.

My name is Kennedy Jennings, and I'm a Clinical Psychologist. You’ll get used to seeing my face, because I will also be your case manager unless for whatever reason you decide that we aren’t a good fit for each other. ” She gave me a polite smile.

Her tone made me relax a little bit. Her energy felt warm, almost as if I was sitting across from my home girl.

I had been transferred from California to New York because Mind Over Matter was said to have one of the best facilities in the nation, and they did.

The care team here was phenomenal; everyone was so accommodating and pleasant, except Dr. Kroft.

I hated seeing him coming. He was committed to not understanding me.

He thought I was a walking nut job; he denied my release every quarter that I came up for review.

Had it been up to him, I’d be stuck here forever.

When I requested someone who looked like me, they told me they had the perfect person.

The owner herself, Mrs. Jennings. They said it was a slim chance that she’d take my case, but I guess she’d agreed.

“Hi, please call me Leah.” I returned the smile.

“Perfect, Leah. I know I haven’t been here from the start of your journey.

I’ve gone over every single one of your case notes, and they are quite extensive.

I trust Dr. Kroft’s expertise, but I may ask you some questions that could be triggering, just because I want to rely a little on my own understanding as we move forward. Is that okay?” she asked.

“Fine.”

“Great. How was your experience here?” She asked as she picked up the pen and looked at me, waiting for a response.

The one thing that I had learned in these last three hundred and sixty-seven days was what to say. I knew what to say and what terms to use to appease the therapists even if it went against what I actually believed.

“It was eye-opening; I learned a lot about myself and about boundaries.”

She looked pleased with that answer as her pen bobbed up and down.

“What exactly did you learn about boundaries?”

I took a deep breath. Although the answer was already on my tongue, I knew they stressed the benefit of thinking before speaking. So for the sake of trying, I pretended to be deep in thought and self-reflect.

“I learned that wanting access to someone doesn’t mean that I’m entitled to it. That no response is actually a response and that if someone says they don’t want to be bothered, I’m supposed to respect it, instead of deciding that they don’t really mean it.”

She nodded and kept writing with a smile on her face. I beamed on the inside; that one was a good answer.

“You have any anxiety about leaving?”

“Of course.” I let out a small laugh. “I’ve been here for a year; I think I’d be more concerned if I weren’t a little nervous.”

After I answered, something outside the window caught my attention.

Two women were walking a dog. They looked deep in conversation and laughing.

They weren’t worried about having someone ask how they were feeling, doing any group sessions, or counting their pills.

They were free, and the only thing that stood between me and that same freedom was this interview.

Mrs. Jennings turned to follow my gaze, then turned back to me with a sympathetic smile. It’s almost like she was reading my mind.

“I want to go over some of the things that most concerned me from the notes that Dr. Kroft wrote. I promise we don’t have to dive deep. But I would love to hear how you’ve progressed since then.” She started.

I nodded and waited.

“Do you understand the magnitude of what you did?” She asked softly and waited for me to answer.

I inhaled sharply.

“Yes.”

“What was it that you did?”

“I overreacted.”

She scoffed. “Leah, that’s a very watered-down way to put it, don’t you think?”

I shrugged.

“Let me rephrase that. What do you think led you to this very moment? In this facility, speaking to me.”

“I scared people.”

She hesitated for a second, then continued writing.

“Six months ago, you expressed that Brandon would eventually understand that the two of you were meant to be together.” She looked up from the notes with a raised eyebrow.

“I wasn’t in a good headspace then.”

“Do you still believe that?” she asked.

“Nope.” I shrugged.

“Four months ago, you said that his current partner manipulated him.”

I laughed, despite knowing how serious the moment was. “I definitely don’t believe that anymore. He’s a grown man, free to make his own choices, and he did that.”

“Very well. Three months ago, you said that he would realize that you two were meant to be together once you were discharged.”

“I may have still been struggling,” I explained it away.

“Two months ago, you were documented asking the case manager whether his restraining order would expire.”

“Two months ago, I was prescribed a new medication that did wonders for my mental health, Mrs. Jennings. I promise I only asked that to know what the conditions of my release were.” I smiled.

She gave me a dead stare, which I returned for just long enough. I had learned that looking away meant avoidance and too much eye contact meant aggression. I knew she was reading me, ready to see any crack in my demeanor or breathing.

“How do you feel about Brandon?” she asked.

“I wish him well.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know whether or not he’s in a relationship?”

“Nope. None of my concern.”

“Have you checked his social media?” she asked.

“Nope.”

All of that was true. I hadn’t checked his social media, because his was private. His mother’s wasn’t. I wasn’t trying to spy; I just wanted to do a wellness check.

“If he walked through these doors today and said that he made a mistake, what would you say or do?” She asked, this time putting the pen down and looking at me directly.

I knew it. That was my internal answer. It almost escaped my lips faster than I could stop it. Had it, I could have taken off these Nikes and put back on my grippy sock 3000s.

“I would tell him that this chapter of my life has closed, and I don’t care to revisit it.”

We went through a series of questions. We ran down medication management, grounding exercises, and my therapy schedule. I didn’t expect the interview to last as long as it did, but she was thorough.

By the time I had given all of my rehearsed answers, I looked at the clock.

It was 12:43 p.m. I was scheduled to be released at 1 p.m. Only seventeen minutes stood between me and my freedom.

I had already told my little sister I was being released today.

I knew she was probably already in the parking lot waiting for me so that we could go home.

I would really lose my shit if I couldn’t go home today.

I couldn’t wait to see her; I missed her so much.

When Mrs. Jennings was done writing, she put the pen down and looked me dead in the eye.

“Leah, I’m going to approve your release.

I’ve listened to you for the last hour, and I’m very proud of your progress.

Not because I believe a single word of the answers you memorized from your worksheet.

But solely because you now have the discretion not to say everything you really feel.

As little as sixty days ago, you didn’t have that.

At the very least, you can now tell right from wrong.

Just as you used your judgment in this interview, I trust you to keep practicing right from wrong when you are released.

You know what you do is wrong, yet you continue doing it anyways. ”

Well, I’ll be damned. This whole time I thought I was outsmarting her, and she saw right through me. I couldn’t even debate with her, especially since she had already signed the papers and slid them across the desk for me to sign as well.

I scribbled my name so fast that I could have literally been voluntarily recommitting myself, and wouldn’t have known it. I wanted to go home so badly that I didn’t even read the documents.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jennings,” I said as I stood from the desk and gave her the brightest smile.

“Leah.” She called out. “Off the record, can I give you a piece of advice? No clinical terms, just woman to woman?” She asked before I could reach the door.

I spun on my heels.

“Of course.”

“Don’t ever try to make rejection make sense. Sometimes a man doesn’t have an excuse for not choosing you. He just doesn’t, and that’s okay. Life goes on, and you don’t have to spend yours making him pay for it; just make that negro regret it.”

I giggled, but the words settled heavily in the room.

Before I could speak, she put up a hand to silence me so she could continue.

“I hope you can control what you tell yourself about why he doesn’t choose you, or else this will happen again. Enjoy your freedom, Leah. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Mrs. Jennings, I can assure you that this will never happen again.”

“I hope not.”

“It won’t.”

I twisted the knob on the door and took a step before I turned around to face her once more.

“Because this time, the man I choose will love me back.”

I could see the color drain from her face.

With those final words, I walked out of the office and let the door close behind me.

I picked up the large plastic bag that I had left in the hallway containing all my things: letters, pictures, and clothing that had been sent to me during my stay, then I headed toward the front door.

I inhaled deeply as the light hit my face, and my lungs expanded with fresh air. I shielded my eyes from the sun and scanned the parking lot for any sign of my baby sister. When I spotted her running across the parking lot, I dropped all my things and met her halfway.

My new life begins now.