Chapter Four

Hadley

Beep, beep, beep.

Rolling over, I turned off my alarm and squinted at the bright screen.

"Mmmmm..." I murmured.

I reached for the remote on my nightstand and turned on the television. The cheerful hosts of Good Morning America popped onto the screen. The camera swept from their smiling faces to Ginger Zee, who eagerly pointed to a large storm system invading much of the west coast.

A few seconds later, the local meteorologist announced the threat of thunderstorms, some of which could be severe.

Forcing myself out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom and twisted the shower knob. As steam filled the air, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Hmmmm, I thought to myself with surprise, the bags under my eyes aren't so bad this morning. For the first time in ages, I actually felt rested.

I grabbed my towel off of the hook on the door and threw it over the towel warmer in the corner of the bathroom. A small smile crossed my face. Hudson bought it for me last Christmas. I don't know why you want one of these things, he had said with a lopsided smile. Looks like something one of those housewives on Bravo would want. I had giggled. I don't know if you got the memo, but I'm kind of a big deal, I had said between fits of laughter. Hudson laughed too. Our inside jokes never needed an explanation.

My smile faded as I stepped into the shower and my heart stung with grief. I missed him so much. People always said twins have a special connection and Hudson and I were no exception. When we were seven years old, he had gone to his first overnight camp with his Boy Scout troop. In the middle of the night, he had to be rushed to the hospital with abdominal pain. My grandmother had come over to stay with me as my parents hurried to the hospital. Before I even knew he was sick, I woke up and began crying. When my grandmother came in to comfort me, I told her that my stomach hurt and that I was scared. A few minutes later, we found out my brother had just had his appendix removed and my pain slowly evaporated as he began to recover. We were connected on such a deep level. No one would ever truly understand.

Tears filled my eyes and my knees went weak. Sinking to the floor, my body shook with sobs. Hudson, I miss you so much...

Four Days Later...

I made my way up the smooth steps to Dr. Charlie's office. My fingers trailed on the railing as I ascended the stairs. The first time I had made my way to his office, I had felt incredibly self-conscious. I knew I needed to talk to someone about my loss. I knew I needed help, but the thought of sharing my most private and pain-filled thoughts with a stranger made me feel uncomfortable.

As I reached the top of the steps, I took a deep breath and made my way to the clouded glass door. A small plaque on the door read, "Dr. Simonson, Ph. D., Dr. Alvarez, Ph. D., and Dr. Andrews, Ph. D." I liked that Dr. Charlie went by his first name instead of Dr. Andrews. It made him seem more down to earth.

I pushed through the door and approached the receptionist. Her bright red lipstick always caught my attention. Although it struck me as an odd choice for someone working in a physiatrist's office, it somehow managed to suit her perfectly.

"Hadley Jasper, here to see Dr. Charlie," I said in a quiet voice.

She adjusted a small nameplate that read, "Jacqueline."

"I'll let Dr. Charlie know you're here."

I forced a weak smile and turned around. I scanned the waiting room. Two patients waited to be called. An older woman with a wrinkled face and a young man with trembling hands both looked up at me and then quickly adverted their eyes.

At first I used to wonder why these people were here. What was going so wrong in their lives that they weren't able to cope on their own? Had they lost loved ones as well? Were they being medicated to dull their pain?

"Ms. Jasper," came a familiar voice, interrupting my thoughts. "You may come back now."

I followed him silently into his office. The furnishings were simple, two plush oversized chairs with a circular table in between, and a solid mahogany desk in the corner. The walls were lined with black shelves, filled with books, the occasional plant, and picture frames featuring calming portraits of the beach.

Dr. Charlie motioned for me to sit. "How are you doing today, Hadley?"

I settled into the comfortable chair and shrugged my shoulders.

Silence filled the space between us.

"Not so great," I admitted, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over at any moment.

He handed me a tissue.

Dabbing the corners of my eyes, I sniffled.

"Can you tell me why you're upset?" he asked.

His deep blue eyes were full of concern.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I went to a friend's party with Scarlet."

"That's good," said Dr. Charlie in a calming tone.

"Everything felt really overwhelming. The music was too loud and I felt like people were staring at me."

Dr. Charlie nodded. "Did you practice your breathing techniques?"

"Yes," I responded. "I managed to calm down a little bit... Until this guy named Emerson came up to me and tried to hit on me."

Leaning forward, Dr. Charlie handed me the box of tissues. "How did you feel about that?"

I shook my head. "I should have been happy, even excited..." I trailed off.

"But, that wasn't how you felt?"

Wiping a stray tear, I gave him a forlorn smile. "I broke down. He asked me if I was okay. I couldn't even respond. I just ran out of the party and didn't stop until I got to my car."

Dr. Charlie sat back in his chair. "Why do you think you responded that way?"

"The party was too much. Emerson asking me out was too much. I'm just not ready for any of it."

"What do you mean the party and Emerson asking you out were too much?" Dr. Charlie asked.

I tossed one of the damp tissues into a nearby wastebasket. "The people that were at the party, they are Scarlet's friends and they didn't really know me or Hudson."

"Is that a good or a bad thing," he asked.

"I thought it would be a good thing. I wouldn't have a million people asking, 'How are you feeling?' or giving me an, 'I feel sorry for you stare," But I was wrong..." I paused. "It felt like no one knew how messed up I am inside. It felt like everyone's lives were just going on as normal. It's like the day Hudson died, my world stopped, but everyone else kept going."

Dr. Charlie gave me an empathetic look. "You know what is important to realize?"

"What?" I asked in between falling tears.

"You went out with your friend, Scarlet. You faced a crowd in a social setting. Did it go exactly how you would have liked it to go? No, but that's okay. The important thing is that you did it. You got out there. This is a victory for you."

I pressed my lips together. "It didn't feel like a victory when I had to text Scarlet that I ran away from the party."

Dr. Charlie tossed me a small squishy ball. "She is a good friend. I'm sure she understood."

I nodded as I squeezed the ball. "She offered to come over to my house and hang out with me for the rest of the night, but I told her to stay at the party."

Dr. Charlie steepled his fingers and tapped his thumbs against his chin.

My lower lip started to tremble. "That's when I got that feeling again," I said with a quavering voice. "I felt like someone was watching me."

With a furrowed brow, Dr. Charlie leaned forward and peered into my eyes. "Have you been taking the new medication?"

"Yes."

"Have these symptoms improved at all or have they been getting worse?" he asked.

My hands started to shake. "W- w- worse," I stammered.

"Hmmmm," he murmured. "What are you specifically feeling?"

"I- I feel like someone is watching me, but as soon as I turn around, they're gone. I get anxious and then I feel like I must be going crazy, because who would be watching me? No one! I'm the most pathetic person in this town."

"You are not pathetic, Hadley. You've experienced a tremendous loss. You are working through that each and every day. You are an amazing person and you deserve to feel proud of your accomplishments. Now, these feelings of being watched, do they cause you to become anxious or depressed?"

Unable to respond, I simply nodded.

"Which or both?" he asked.

"Both," I answered quietly.

Dr. Charlie leaned back in his chair and let his hands fall to the arms of the chair. "How about this," he said. "Every time you feel like you are being watched, I want you to write it down in your journal. Record it until our next session and we can see if there are any patterns."

"Okay, but what kind of patterns are you talking about?" I asked.

"We can look at your journal entries and see if they tend to come in the mornings or at nights. Or, perhaps if they come after you interact with people you don't know or when you're in uncomfortable situations."

"Oh," I said. "I guess that's a good idea." He probably thinks I'm crazy, on top of depressed.

"What is it Hadley," he implored. "It looks like you want to say something."

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "I'm afraid you think I'm going crazy!" I slapped a hand to my mouth. Shut up, Hadley! He's going to have you committed!

"Hadley," said Dr. Charlie in a calm voice. "You are not going crazy. If you feel afraid, I want you to immediately go somewhere else safe and call 911, okay?"

"Okay."

"But," he said, "If you think it is a symptom of your medication, I want to make sure we address it and find something that helps you feel better, not worse."

A small wave of relief washed over me. "Okay, I think I can do that."

He smiled warmly. "Hadley, you are making progress and you are healing. I know it might not feel like it, but you are."

I nervously tapped my middle finger on the inside of my left wrist. My fingers seemed to find their way to that red, jagged scar, no matter how hard I tried to cover it with Band-Aids, jewelry, or clothing.

Dr. Charlie changed the topic and forty minutes later, my session had come to an end.

"I'll see you Friday," said Dr. Charlie.

"Okay," I responded.

"Remember to bring your journal to the appointment," he said.

"Will do," I responded.

"Bye, Hadley."

"See you on Friday," I said.

***

The sun had set by the time I left the gym. The workout had felt good. The more I sweat, the more I got in the zone. When I was in the zone, I didn't think about Hudson's screams as the headlights of the oncoming truck flashed in our eyes or the sickening crunch his bones made as the other driver collided head on with our car."

I fished for my keys in my jersey mesh back sack as I walked to my car. Without warning, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

Spinning around, I looked behind me and to the sides. "Who- who's there?" I stammered.

Silence permeated the air.

"Is anyone there?" I asked, my voice shaking.

No one responded. My heart began to thump loudly in my chest and I desperately searched for my keys.

Once I felt them in between my fingers, I sprinted to my car and yanked the door open. Slamming it shut behind me, I locked the car doors and dumped my bag out on the passenger's seat. As soon as my phone came into view, I snatched it up and entered my password. Dr. Charlie said to call the police if I felt unsafe. But, before I could finish dialing 9-1-1, a large hand slammed against the driver's side window and a blood-curdling scream erupted from my lips. Then, everything went fuzzy and faded to black...

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