Twisted Deceit (Deceit #3)

Chapter 8

One day quickly turned into a week, then two.

Dawn was different. The good kind. Some days, I wasn’t sure how to reply, and thankfully she didn’t expect anything from me other than to clean up after myself or to write something down on the shopping list that I wanted or needed.

I had yet to do that, nor would I.

I kept waiting for something to happen though. Surely she’d get fed up with me sooner or later. But so far, she hadn’t cared that my tears didn’t shut off some days. She didn’t care that I only gave yes or no answers.

Dawn talked enough for the both of us, anyways. Which I guess made her great at selling houses.

She worked odd hours, mostly afternoon and into the late evening. But that didn’t stop her from either making dinner or picking something up on the way home after she was in town. I hated to admit it, though. I preferred her cooking over fast food.

Her meals were full of things my body wanted. For so long my food intake had been slim, and after a week of easy healthy meals, my body was gaining energy. Energy I wasn’t sure what to do with.

I helped where I could, wanting to learn everything I possibly could to fend for myself. Making bread was not my strongest suit though. Flour got everywhere, but at least Dawn hadn’t cared how much of a mess I made. All she cared about was the fact that I was trying.

And I was. Trying. Trying to live. Trying to find my feet. Trying to heal and overcome the past.

As the nights came, so did the nightmares. It wasn’t fast, like a snap of the fingers. It was slow. Just little things here or there. But with each night, it was harder and harder to keep the past away from pulling me under.

Either Dawn was a heavy sleeper, or she didn’t want to overstep. I hoped it was the former. I tried to not make a sound at night, even though it was hard to breathe and the tears wouldn’t stop. Last night, I snuck to the porch, sitting in the porch swing that was on the side of the house and let the cool air clear my head.

It sort of helped.

But otherwise, it wasn’t bad living with Dawn in the middle of nowhere. It was quiet, and there was a sort of peacefulness to her place. The few neighbors weren’t a bother, even though they’d stopped by. At those times, I disappeared into the house. I was sure they had been wondering who I was, and all Dawn had said I was her nephew. No other explanation was given.

I kept waiting for her to get tired of me. Tired of my lack of talking or answering her many questions. But all she did was either re-ask a question in a way I could answer, or answer herself with what she knew. She didn’t push me, for the most part.

The times she had to talk me into agreeing was for my own good. Sure, I understood where she was coming from, but I didn’t see the point in any of it. Why did I need to visit more doctors who would want answers I couldn’t give?

“It’s more to make sure I’m doing my job,” Dawn had explained. “If you want to stay with me, then I have to do my part. Which is to be a parent.”

I sighed at her explanation, having no way I could argue against her. I liked staying with her more than I expected. And if I got to stay, then I’d suffer through a different type of torture.

Sure, the appointments didn’t hurt me physically, or really mentally, either. It was just hard to handle. Doctors wanted to touch everything, document everything, and make sure nothing was long lasting or permanent. I hated each minute of it.

The eye appointment hadn’t been fun, either. That device that blew air into my eyes would never be something I'd be willing to do again. I shuddered, remembering all too well how that puff of air nearly caused me to have a panic attack where Dawn had to talk me down.

It turned out, I did need glasses. My eyesight was horrible, but that could be a mixture of genetics and lack of nutrients. The glasses I picked out were a bit big, but at the same time I felt like I was able to hide behind them, despite being able to see things ten times better.

I never would have known that there were lines on the tall posts. Or the bird nests in the trees, and so many other things.

It was strange. Both to the fact that I could see, and that seeing made me get a headache by the end of the day that only sleep could cure.

Now, as I looked around the almost too bright of a waiting room for the next doctor I was to visit with, I wanted to disappear. I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who felt the same way. The older lady in the corner had her head down and tried to be as invisible as I wanted to be.

Taking a deep breath, I slipped my hands between my knees and tried to keep my thoughts on the small chest of toys or the brightly colored walls instead of why I was here.

Coming here out of all the doctors that Dawn had dragged me to would end up the worst. This one would expect me to talk. Expect me to add to the conversation. They’d be thoroughly disappointed. I wasn’t going to do anything but sit there and zone out.

I was good at that part, thankfully. Having years of practice of being yelled at before being used, or even during. I was good at just following simple commands. My brain knew when to pay attention and when it could just go blank.

“Koda?”

I looked up too quickly when my name was called, causing my vision to swim. It was certainly taking a bit of time to get used to the black frames that were on my face. The lady who called my name stood in a doorway that led to what looked like another hallway.

“I’ll be waiting right here for you, kiddo.” Dawn patted my shoulder as I stood. “I explained the whole not talking thing so don’t worry about it.”

Was I supposed to be thankful for that? I wasn’t so sure, mostly because I had no clue what she told some random lady about me.

I shouldn’t be worried about it, but a bigger part of me did. I couldn’t help but wonder if Dawn was tired of me, and wanted to tell someone else about how much of a disgrace I was. It was hard enough to try to accept the fact that there was nothing left for me to try to live for. That reason, if there even had been one, was buried deep in my past. No single person could possibly get me to see anything different.

I failed in looking back at Dawn as she sat down where I had just been. She gave me an encouraging smile while inside, all I wanted was her to come along too. Maybe hold my hand.

Surely, no fourteen-year-old should want an adult to hold their hand every single time they have a speeding heart.

Just another reason why I was so stupid. I was almost an adult, yet I couldn’t function well without one telling me what I had to do.

“Come on in, Koda.”

Everyone lately kept saying my name. A lot. Did they think I didn’t know what it was, like I was a dog who had just been given to a new family?

Pushing the thoughts away, I entered a much calmer colored room. The walls were a darker cream with black and white pictured animals. Two chairs, a bean bag off to the corner, and bookshelves with books and a few other things that I didn’t care to look at filled the room.

“Have a seat wherever. Or stand. Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” the lady shut the door behind her while I just stood there, arms wrapped around my midsection.

Being here in this room wasn’t comfortable. What I wanted was to leave, but I had a feeling that wasn’t an option.

The lady walked around me to take a seat in one of the chairs. The one that faced me and the door. The light cream pants creased as she crossed her legs, one white shoe dangling a bit off the floor.

“I’m Dr. Shaw,” she went on, letting me just stand there like a deer caught in headlights. “Your aunt told me a bit about your past. I’m very much aware of the fact that you refuse to talk. I’m not sure if that’s a physical issue due to injury, or it’s a choice. Either way, I can work around that. I don’t expect verbal answers. And even then, I have to earn your trust.”

I slowly looked up past her shoes, finding an open, caring face. Her black bob of hair was pinned back behind her ears, making her look older than she had to be, showcasing those green eyes.

“Today, like I told Dawn, is all about seeing if we are a good match. Not every therapist can work perfectly with every person. We may clash. I may give off vibes from someone in your past. Or it could be as simple as my gut feeling that I wouldn’t be the best doctor to work with you. I hold no expectations today from what either of us will do going forward. This journey of healing will be all in your court.

“Myself, or any other doctor you see, can only do so much. The work is all on you. And sometimes, people just aren’t ready to heal from whatever they’ve been through.”

As she talked, her voice calm, I slowly shuffled towards the other chair.

“I’m not here to force you to talk or make you see things in a different way. You can think of me as a friend you vent to, one who will listen. I’ll give you advice on how to go about things differently, when and if needed. I don’t take sides, so you’ll eventually hear me give you another point of view from time to time. I’m also not your mother, but that’s probably a good thing, since Dawn had explained that bit.”

I took a seat, pulling my legs to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. My heels were right on the edge of the seat, and the pressure put pressure on my ribs that were still healing. But the small amount of pain was nothing.

“Progress already!” she smiled once I sat. I blinked, not impressed. “Alright. Not one for jokes. Got it.” She shifted, putting both feet on the floor while also slipping a stray piece of black hair behind her head that fell from her tight bun. “I’m glad your aunt came in to explain things first, which also put all the questions I usually ask at the first meeting out the window. But you also aren’t the first person who won’t talk that I’ve met. I’m creative, and can find different ways.

“So, I’ll start off with summarizing what Dawn told me. Will that work?”

I shrugged. Why was she asking when she’d do it anyhow?

“I just want to make sure she has the story right.” She paused again, letting the words soak into my brain. “You were taken from your parents at age four after they were both found with meth. They lost custody, since they refused to get clean. No family members had been contacted on your behalf, which meant you got put into the foster care system. That alone can be tough. There, you were bounced from home to home until you were about eleven. At least that’s when the system lost track of you.”

I tilted my head, trying to think back on how old I was the first time I was taken away in the middle of the night to the first basement I had been thrown in. I wasn’t sure how old I had been, since it felt like yesterday, but at the same time years ago.

“Am I on the right path so far?”

I nodded and shrugged.

“Dawn has no clue what you’ve been through, and neither do I for that matter. We can only take guesses, but we’ll get back to that another day. So, after the social workersfinally noticed you were gone from the last foster home, they never did a missing child report, but that’s pretty normal too. They most likely thought you were a runaway.

“Then, years later, you show up at a hospital by some stranger who found you on the side of the road. And now, you are here.”

I had figured that Dawn would have known more, or at least guessed. Maybe she had talked about what all the test results were.

“Of course, she’d like to know what happened between all that, but that’s your story to tell. One that will only be shared when you’re ready.”

It wasn’t a hard story to guess about. Surely anyone who saw the results that hospital had done, it wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes to connect the dots.

“I can gather, of course, that you were abused. I can see that in the way you hold yourself. You’ve been to hell, and I’d like to help to bring you back to earth, at least. Life won’t ever be perfect, and the past will sneak up on you when you least want it to. But things will get better if you try. If you don’t put the effort into it, then nothing will change and you'll be a ghost in life. And that won’t be fun.”

Didn’t she know that life wasn’t fun to begin with?

“For now, as you think over this question. Are you willing to try? If so, am I the right person to help you?”

I shrugged. I had no answer. I was only here because Dawn wanted me to be.

“That’s okay too. Maybe we could at least give it one more chance?”

I blinked, not entirely sure about that either, even though I was sure I’d have to.

“If you feel up to it,” Dr. Shaw stood, walking to one of the bookshelves that lined a wall. “You can write anything you want in here. It’s for your secrets. No one will read it. Not me, not Dawn. Unless you want us too, of course. It’s a great place to at least get some thoughts down. Write down how much you hate certain people in your past. Write the things that haunt you and the wishes of you.”

Dr. Shaw handed me a black spiral notebook and pen. I slowly reached a hand out to take them, eyeing the items like they could possibly burn me.

“You can even write questions to Dawn. She’d be happy to answer anything. She knows I’m giving you this, and the reasons. There is no pressure at all for you to use it. We just want to give you a voice, in any way possible. You don’t have to go on with life being scared to ask for what you need, or even want.”