Disclaimer: Spirited Away / Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi belong to the Great Miyazaki and anyoneelse with the proper legal documentation. Not this poor college student.

Note: I know nothing regarding psychiatric practice in Japan, and while I tried to make as many details mesh with my knowledge of Japanese Culture, the parts regarding psychiatry come from friends of mine who have suffered the consequences but not benefits of medication.

And now for the story…

Changes

He's not coming.

It's been fifteen years to the day since I last saw him, and I've tried to convince myself it was a dream, but it hasn't worked. Sometimes, late at night, I curl up in bed and open my mind to him and just let the sound of moving water sing me to sleep. I know it's stupid and I know it's not really him, but it's still the reason I got an apartment overlooking a river.

If I ever told anyone they'd think I was crazy. I still haven't forgiven my parents for those wonderful teenage years seeing a psychiatrist because I had a "bad reaction to the move." It took gaining my legal independence at 16 and another year of visits to an independent psychiatrist to stop the medication.

They had wanted to return and explore the area again a few weeks after everything had happened. They thought it would be a wonderful way for the family to "bond" since Daddy finally had a day off his new job. They thought I was being a brat, so I told them what had happened. I can still remember the looks on their faces.

"Chihiro, dear, what on earth are you talking about?" My mother had asked in concern. She felt my forehead gently, seeming honestly worried. My father was standing on the other side of the kitchen muttering about wasting his only day off.

"Mama, if we go back in there, Yu-baba won't let us leave!! You can't go back!!" I knew I was acting childish then, even in my own ten-year-old mind, but I couldn't help it. I was scared to death that they would be taken and I would be alone again. And this time I wouldn't even have Haku. The real world is a much scarier place than the spirit world. I kept crying and fussing until they promised not to go, but it cost me.

I didn't realize the price until years later when trying to convince my psychiatrist that "No, I knew there was no such place as the Spirit World, it had merely been a ten-year-old's nightmare; and NO, I did not talk to thin air on the edge of the forest, had never hallucinated, and would like to discontinue the medication I had been placed on at the age of 13 for mental instability and mild hallucinations."

Of course what I meant was 'Yes, I know you want me to tell you there's no Spirit World, yes it would be nice if you could discontinue my prescription because I don't appreciate the nausea and mood swings I've had for the last 6 years, and yes, I promise not to talk to tree spirits in view of others.' I had learned the hard way that truth is not a valuable commodity with those who decide your fate.

You see, after the incident regarding my parents they had been concerned and had a friend of theirs who happened to practice psychiatry stop by for dinner one evening. Somehow we ended up the only two people sitting in the kitchen and I offered to make her some tea. She asked me about the Spirit World. I thought she was genuinely interested and began to talk. Two hours later my parents came back and the woman had spoken to them in quiet tones. To this day I don't know what was said, but I remember the words "Maladjusted", "antisocial", and "very concerning" being mentioned, and I wondered what was so concerning. A week later I found out when I was taken to the mental hospital for the first session of what would become the bane of my existence, "Therapy".

That was when I learned that people don't always mean what they say, and promises are easily broken. First the lady told me that she believed me. Then my parents said the visits would only last for the summer break, three weeks at the most. They promised.

And then there's Haku. A name which I have spoken of to no one, not even when I tried to explain the Spirit World and its wonders to my parents' friend. It's a name that I speak only in my dreams, when I hear his heart beating in my mind.

The dreams are funny sometimes. I'll fall asleep at my desk doing paperwork, and wake up in bed having dreamed that Haku carried me there. The best nights are those where I dream I'm waking up in the morning, and I can hear his heat beat. I shift to find him lying with me asleep. He's not the same as he was, though. He's older, as I have become. His eyes are deep and caring. I always wake up crying.

I suppose the dreams are only natural. I've never dated, or even come close. Most men avoid me. They think there's something not quite right about the too quiet girl with the desk by the window. Maybe they're right. The Spirit World leaves its mark on everything it touches, why should I be any different. I sigh, and rise from my perch next to the window.

I know he's not coming.

Despite his pledge, it has been too long. Too many years have passed, and I am no longer the girl he knew. Sometimes, these things are simply beyond our control. I have accepted this.

But I can't help hoping. Because that's the only thing I have left. I crawl into bed and curl up around my pillow, blinking back the tears that threaten. One would think after fifteen years they'd have faded, but the wound of our parting still aches. I close my eyes and pray for sleep with his name on my lips,

"Haku…"

Finis