Dr. Davies' middle-aged eyes were slightly creased and he looked at me sympathetically. “I know this is hard for you, and the fact that it is, shows how sorry you are but you were drunk and high, you can’t even remember the incident. I explained to you that you suffered from a drug induced psychotic episode, alcohol alone can cause this mental state. The fact that you added cocaine may have caused the psychosis to prolong itself. It made you paranoid and delusional, and I know you can’t remember significant events during that time but that is typical for the diagnosis. At this point it is my psychiatric evaluation, you are not a danger to the public, you know you shouldn’t drink and or take drugs. You have mentioned numerous times that the mere thought of drinking causes you to panic, and the catalysts for your previous bad behavior have dissipated…” he reiterated, referring to the fact that my family was no longer in my life to fuck with me. But I knew it wasn’t the case. I may have been given two years of freedom, but I knew it wasn’t over with them, it never will be. The moment they needed me for something, they will come knocking and I will have nowhere to run. “You even got shot protecting Alexis. At some point you will have to recognize that even you deserve salvation,” he said, pausing to gauge my reaction. Our conversations always came back to this, my need for salvation, redemption. But how do you redeem a devil?
“You should start dating and stop torturing yourself with these sex parties you attend. You’ve told me numerous times how you always wanted a chance at a real life. I think you’ve learned from your mistakes. You need to move forward and find a relationship. I don’t think the sex parties are a good solution to your problem.”
“The women are safe,” I insisted. It makes perfect sense. I can’t be a danger to a woman if we are surrounded by strong virile men, who could step in if I lost control.
“They will be safe in an intimate setting as well,” he assured me.
“I can’t do it,” I replied sternly. I looked at my clock and realized it’s been over an hour, I have a meeting to attend at work. “Besides, I haven’t met anyone I would want a relationship with. Even if I did, the thought scares the crap out of me,” I explained, pouring my soul to Dr. Davies.
“I’m not suggesting you dive head first into a relationship, you can take things slow and see where it leads,” he suggested with a sympathetic smile.
“Okay.” I shrugged my shoulders, knowing that it isn’t going to happen. Then I stood up to leave the office and Dr. Davies walked over to his desk to check his laptop. “See you next week Doc,” I said as I step out the door.
Every time I left his office, I felt a smidgen lighter than when I arrived, and I always had a wide smile knowing my father would never approve of the fact that I was in therapy. He would say a real man deals with his own shit. I dealt with my own shit in the past, and it got me into more trouble than I could handle. I don’t plan on burdening myself like that ever again. I lived a legitimate life. I just need to overcome my past.
Chapter 3
Vicky
Present
“Ma’am can I get you a drink?” the cheery flight attendant asked with a bright smile. She was young, and beautiful, and blonde, the complete opposite of me, especially the cheery part.
“Sure, I’ll take a Coke,” I responded with a sad tone. I hadn’t smiled for two years. I wasn’t going to fake a smile for the flight attendant. Fuck her and fuck the world.
“Hey, my name is Sandy.” The girl sitting beside me smiled. Geez, what was it with all the cheery people? With her white blouse and grey cardigan sweater she looked like a good girl. She sat waiting for my response, for me to introduce myself, her brown eyes were wide and her brown hair looked perfectly groomed with little tendrils at the ends. She must have been about my age but there was a drastic difference between us, she didn’t carry the same heaviness on her shoulders that I carry. She didn’t look like she peeled herself out of bed this morning, dreading the idea of making it through another day. No, Sandy was a cheery, happy girl and I’m bent on just getting by.
I’ve clearly left her hanging too long when I noticed her lips turned down. “Vicky,” I responded curtly, placing my head back on the headrest and closing my eyes. I want peace and quiet. I want to drown in thoughts, in memories…they are all I have now. I had no intention of making small talk with a stranger, even if she was a sweet girl. Sandy shifted her body so she was facing the seat in front of her and pulled a fashion magazine out of her knapsack. Good, she got the message.
“Are you from Toronto?” she asked, still trying. For fucking real? I inwardly huffed. I thought I got her off my back.
“No, Thunder Bay,” I answered with my eyes still closed and not moving an inch. Get the point, I don’t want to converse.
“I’m from New York City. I’m heading home. I came to visit my aunt on my father’s side. It was lots of fun. I got to see cousins and family that I haven’t seen for ages,” she blabbers without pausing for a breath. All I can hear is blah, blah, blah. She really picked the wrong person to tell happy family stories to.
I lifted my head from the headrest, clearly irritated. “Look, uh.” I paused, forgetting her name.
“Sandy.” She nodded, her smile slowly fading.
“Sandy, it’s nothing personal, I’m not in the mood to talk,” I snap. Then I placed my head back on the headrest and close my eyes. After a couple moments of silence I figured message delivered. Yes, relief!
I’m headed to New York City. It was my first time leaving Canada on my own, but I thought I planned the trip quite well, considering it was the first time I had to do these things without the help of a parent. Step one was to get off the plane and take a cab to the motel I booked. With only a grand in my purse, I prayed it didn’t cost too much to get there. I had to stretch the use of my money as far as possible and achieve the goal I came to accomplish. Maybe then I won’t feel so alone. Maybe then I’d be able to get back to the person I was before. Maybe then I could talk to normal people like Sandy. They seemed so happy, determined, and loved, everything I wasn’t.
I wasn’t too optimistic about the outcome of this trip. My hope, along with my life, had been buried six feet under, and I didn’t think there were any prospects for change. I’m locked in this torturous cycle of finding my next fix: a way to end the pain, to fill my broken heart, even if it was for a brief moment.
The pilot’s voice sounded on the intercom. “We will begin our descent into New York City, please fasten your seat belts.” I looked out the window at the sun shining bright above the clouds. The plane slowly descended and the city came into view. I admired the tall buildings, closely knit together. They looked like a massive Lego city I built when I was a kid. As the plane descended, the buildings grew larger and I’d never seen anything like it. Yeah, I went into Toronto a couple of times this year but this….this was bigger and fascinating.
Leaving the plane and walking through the terminal, my heart accelerated in my chest. It didn’t feel like excitement. I hadn’t been excited for over two years. Maybe it’s fear, or uncertainty. Being alone in a big city didn’t scare me, I’ve gotten used to being alone. It didn’t matter where I went… or maybe it did. As my palms began to sweat at the thought of being in such a large city on my own, I realized that although I felt alone in Thunder Bay, there was a certain familiarity there that made me feel safe. It was the place I grew up, I knew the parks, the people, the local store owners, but none of that mattered in the end because without a family I had no one to lean on, no one to share my grief.