First Therapy Session

Dr. Hill stands by his window, hands behind his back. He hears the door opening and closing behind him, the door pull out, and someone sit down.

"Good morning Beth."

"Good morning Dr. Hill."

"How are you feeling today?" Dr. Hill asks her, turning around and walking towards the desk.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Dr. Hill takes his seat across the desk from Beth.

"Well, better than I was," Beth adds.

"That's good. Better is a start," he writes something down on his notepad.

"I never thought I'd be in here myself," Beth looks around. "My brother was always the one with the. . . problems."

"Yet here you are."
"Here I am," Beth agrees, looking down.

"It's a been a month since they found you Beth. Everyone had given up by the time you finally showed up."

"I know, my family won't let me forget it. They were so happy when they found out I was alive. I mean, Hannah's still gone, but just me being there has made them so happy. Especially my brother."

"What do you mean Beth?"

"He must have said something about it to you. You're his therapist."

"I'm not allowed to disclose my sessions with other patients Beth."

"Oh, right," Beth remembers vaguely, "I'm sorry um, I'm still pretty. . .it's hard to just. . ."

"Bounce back?"

She goes silent.

"Of course, of course, I understand you must be going through a lot," he replies, writing down notes again.

Beth can't tell what he's writing down, she knows she's way out of it. She hopes he can help, from what she's seen he's helped her brother in the past.

"She wasn't just my sister you know?"

"No?"

"She was my twin sister. I've known her since birth, we were inseparable. She was my best friend for a long time."

"You mean she stopped being your best friend?"

"Well, High School happened, Sam came along, and things started to change."

"Who's Sam?"

"My sister's best friend. Well, she used to be."

"What happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?"

"Why isn't she best friends with Hannah anymore?"

Beth looks at him for a moment, as if she doesn't understand the question. "Because Hannah's dead. Why the fuck do you think?" Beth says, turning hostile.

"Whoa, I'm sorry Beth," Dr. Hill apologizes, a bit shocked by her cursing. "I didn't know that's what you meant."

Beth just stares at him now, until Dr. Hill speaks again.

"We don't know she's dead you know," Dr. Hill tries to comfort her.

"She's dead." Beth says coldly. "I know she's dead."

"I thought you couldn't remember anything."

"I can't, but I know. I know she's dead. If it's a miracle I'm alive one month later, what do you

think her chances are in two? No, she's dead. Don't try to treat me like a fucking kid."

"I'm sorry Beth, I didn't mean to offend. So, what happened between you two during High

School?" He asks, trying to get back on track.

Beth doesn't answer at first, but she breathes deeply, "I uh. . ." she starts, trying to find the words. "I started getting a lot closer to Josh."

"Your brother?"

"Yes, my brother."

"How did you get close?"

"We just did. I was always expected to be with Hannah though. We were best friends, but I feel like we may have only been best friends because we were supposed to be, you know?"

"What do you mean Beth?"

"As we got older, I guess we both realized that we didn't have as much in common as we used to, and how different we really were. I'm uh, I'm not sure how to put it," Beth stumbles.

"Take your time."

"I. . . started going hunting with my Dad and Josh. I think that's when it started."

"You like hunting?" He writes that down.

"I tried to drag her along once, but she hated it. She hated everything about it. Especially the guns."

"Do you like guns?"

Beth manages a smile, "I love shooting guns. Just the feeling you get when you fire one, it's such a rush you know?"

"I've never fired a gun."

"Really? Not once? It's fun."

He writes that down. "You know for a lot of people shooting guns relieves stress."

"I know, I've been going to the range a lot with my brother recently. He won't leave me alone."

"And has it made you feel any better?"

"Kinda, I don't know," Beth sighs, "At the time it feels better, but then I feel like shit as soon as it's over."

"You sound tired."
"I can't sleep."

"Oh, why didn't you say that before?"

"Because I'm tired."

He jots that down too, and looks back up.

"Why can't you sleep Beth? Are you having nightmares?
"I can't stop seeing her face," she breathes, starting to shake.

"Whose face?"

"Who do you think?"

"Hannah's?"

"Yeah. . .I have to keep the lights on when I sleep. When I'm in the dark I feel like she's right there." Hill's writing all this down, every bit of it. "I see her everywhere I go. She just. . . stares at me."

"You're having hallucinations?" He asks while writing. "What does Hannah look like when you see her?"

"Bloody, blank stare. Dead."

"How often do you see Hannah?"

Beth doesn't answer.

Dr. Hill looks up from his notepad to see Beth staring to the right of him. "Beth?"

Still no answer. She just sits there, staring off into nothing.

Dr. Hill looks to his side, nothing's there, not that he expected there to be anything. He looks back to her. She's still frozen. That's a thousand-yard stare if he's ever seen one. He writes it down, "This is worse than I expected."

He raises his arms and smashes his hands together, making a loud clap. "Beth!"

Beth shakes as she snaps out of her trance, "What?" she asks, totally lost.

"You were just in a catatonic state."

"A what?"

"You mind checked out," he says simply. "For at least ten seconds."

"Oh. . . yeah, that's been happening."

"Beth, what were you staring at?"

Beth looks to him now, she opens her mouth, then closes it, not saying anything. Her eyes are wide. Hill can tell she's starting to shake again.

"Did you see Hannah?"

"I always see her."

"Where is Hannah now?" Hill asks, trying to keep her with him.

"She's. . . in front of me."

"What's she doing?"

Beth doesn't answer.

"Beth," Hill tries to keep her attention. "Can you hear me?"

"She's sitting in your seat," she gets out.

Dr. Hill flinches. He puts his pencil down, "I'm Hannah?"

Beth nods weakly. She clutches her head, her vision blurring. She spirals, suddenly everything's spinning. Hannah's everywhere. That dead, blank stare, everywhere she looks. Closing her eyes doesn't help, Hannah's face is burned into her retinas.

"Leave me alone, leave me alone!" she chants to herself, shaking her head. "Please please please stop! I didn't do anything!"

Dr. Hill rises from his chair and to Beth's side, taking hold of her by the shoulders. "Beth!"

Beth's head snaps up to see him, she's panting, sweating. Dr. Hill realizes what he may have just done. "Am I still Hannah?"

"No." Beth looks around the room, seeing nothing. "She's gone."

Dr. Hill takes a step back, taking a deep breath himself. "I think. . . I think that's enough for today." Dr. Hill sits back down, "Just try to relax while I get the rest of this down."

Beth sits quietly as Dr. Hill writes down everything he's witnessed. She feels like she's about to pass out. She's exhausted, but her mind won't let her sleep. Beth can only imagine what he's saying about her. She knows she's losing her mind, she only hopes she'll make it through.

"Okay, now," he starts writing something else on another piece of paper. When he's done he rips it off the notepad and hands it over to her, "This is a list of recommended medication."

Beth takes a glance, "Long list."

"Yes, it is. Your doctor will have to give you a prescription. Just show it to your parents."

"Okay," she replies weakly. "It's uh. . . never been that bad before. Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. Reactions are good, it means we're making progress. Now, I suggest getting the sleeping pills immediately, I think your hallucinations are largely due to lack of sleep."

"Thank you Dr. Hill," Beth turns to leave.

"Just call me Alan, something tells me we're going to be seeing each other a lot."

"Am I supposed to feel better? Cause I feel worse."

"It always gets worse before it gets better, but it will get better Beth. Just be strong." Dr. Hill watches as she leaves the room without another word. He takes a breath. He looks to the clock, it's only been ten minutes. It feels like he had been talking to her for hours. He looks over what he's written down about her, going down the list.

Severe depression.

Hostile outbursts.

Insomnia.

Catatonic.

Suffering from crippling hallucinations.

PTSD.

May be bipolar.

Signs of schizophrenia.

He opens his drawer, taking out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He pours himself some and downs it in one go. He leans back in his chair, trying to relax himself.

"God, I hope I can help this girl."

Author's Note: We're gonna be skipping around in time here, the next chapter will be the start of the second party, but this is not the last we'll see of the therapy sessions. I hope you enjoyed this, it was a trip writing it.