“Can’t we listen to something else?” I squirm in the chair. “Maybe something a little less naturey?”

“Listening to this it’s an important part of the treatment.” He relaxes back in his seat, eyes on me as he puts the end of his pen up to his lips. “I’m trying to take you back to the day of the accident—to the day you lost your memories.”

“But I hate remembering that day,” I say. It’s the most vivid memory I have. I can still feel the coldness of the rain. The blood soaking my hair. The pain in my body. The way my heart thrashed in response to the fear. The car in the street; the car that hit me then took off. Everyone said I was lucky to have such minimal injuries on my body, considering I’d been hit on a highway where the speed limit is sixty-five. I don’t call it luck, because part of me doesn’t fully believe I was accidentally ran over. What happened though is a mystery. Maybe I threw myself in front of the car. Maybe I wanted to die. Maybe I’d gotten into some trouble with the strange man. Or maybe I just wanted to forget whoever I was. Maybe this disgustingness that’s inside me now was in me then and I just wanted to get rid of it.

“Maddie, relax. Take a deep breath and try to clear your head,” Preston advises, taking a deep inhale and exhale himself.

Clear my head? Impossible. How can I, when someone else is living inside it? But I shut my eyes anyway.

Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. The rain from the speakers flows and surrounds me until it gives me a headache.

“Just relax,” Preston says softly through the rhythm of the rainfall. Now he’s giving me a headache. “Breathe in and out.”

I suck in a breath of air and let it out.

In and out.

Over and over again.

Pitter-patter…. Pitter-patter… Pitter-patter… the rain is falling… through it, there’s a spark of light. I’ve seen it before. Heard the voice that whispers help. Seen the flames. Burning… burning… burning. And burning me along with them.

Maddie

“What just happened?’ I open my eyes and rub them with the palms of my hand. I’m still lying in the lounge chair, the sound of rain flowing from the speakers, this strange sense of lost time floating around inside my head.

Preston is staring at me with a quizzical expression, pen in hand, the tip pressed to the paper. “I think you fell asleep.” He scratches his head then reaches over and silences the rainfall sounds. “Do you feel different? Remember anything at all?”

I shake my head, pushing myself up into sitting position, swinging my legs over the edge of the chair, and planting my feet onto the floor. “Nope. My minds still as blank as ever, although I’m tired as hell.” I pause, rubbing my eyes again. God, I feel like I’m hung-over, my head is throbbing, and my eyes feel like they’re on fire. Glancing at the clock, I notice my session has ended. I push to my feet. “Well, this has been extremely great, Preston. Seriously, the powernap was great, but it’s time for me to go.”

“Wait. Are you sure nothing happened at all?” he asks as I pick up my bag from off the floor beside the door. “You didn’t see anything… maybe something you thought was a dream?”

“Nope, other than I got a good dreamless nap, zilch happened,” I lie as Preston gets up from his chair and wanders back over to his desk. “How long was I out for?”

He checks his watch. “About ten minutes.” He lets his arms fall to the side. “Although I’m extremely disappointed, I have to say I’m not surprised. The studies I read through said in the beginning a lot of patients simply got drowsy. Hopefully next time we can progress further into it.”

“Next time?” Sighing, I turn around and face him. He’s standing behind his desk, loosening his tie as he gathers papers on his desk into a stack. “We’re doing this again? Really, Preston? I thought we decided a long time ago that hypnotherapy was not the way to go.”

“I know, but this way is different and I’d like to keep trying it, just for a little while.” Flicking the top button of his shirt, he undoes the collar. His finger must snag the button, though, because it ends up falling off and onto his desk. He doesn’t seem to notice however, taking off his tie completely and setting it aside. “But only if it’s okay with you.”

I want to say no, but I’m distracted by the button. Pick it up. Pick it up! A sickness of mine. The need to pick up every single fallen one. “I guess so,” I mumble, sliding the handle of my bag onto my shoulder, trying to ignore the compulsion to pick up the button. Pick it up, Lily entices. No fucking way, I reply. I already told you, it’s crazy to do that.

Everyone’s crazy in their own way.

“Good, I’m glad you’re on board with this,” Preston says, turning around to search through a stack of papers on the filing cabinet behind the desk while I zone in on the button.

Pick it up. Pick it up. Pick it up.

Shaking my head at myself, I quickly reach over the desk and snatch up the button before he can turn around. I stuff it into my pocket, as always wondering why I do it, but never being able to stop myself.

“This hypnotherapy is a little controversial,” Preston continues, oblivious to what I just did as he faces me with a paper in his hand. “But I think at this point in your recovery, controversial methods might be the only options.”

“Whatever you think. You are the doctor after all.” I point to his PhD on the wall, black bold letters with his name on it. Nonchalant as can be. Like I didn’t just steal a button like a psychopathic button kleptomaniac. “Or at least according to that you are.”

He offers me a small smile. “I’ll see you next Tuesday, Maddie.”

I wave as I walk out the door, keeping a neutral expression until I get outside and into the open. Then I breathe for the first time today, because soon I’ll be at work and I won’t have to try so hard to hide Lily anymore.

Maddie

I once spent an entire day doing research about “voices in my head.” The findings where alarming. Psychosis. Schizophrenia. Multiple Personality Disorder. I’m sure if I told Preston, he’d crack open my head and give me a diagnosis but, that would mean living with the results. I’d no longer be able to hide the insanity—I’d have to accept what was wrong with me. So I try to keep Lily locked up the best that I can, only letting her out when I know it won’t harm anyone. Like when I go to work.

After my therapy session, I go home to watch the channel nine news at 6 o’ clock, a habit of mine that started while I was in the hospital. It’s the local station and living in the small town of Grove Wyoming, not too much goes on. Fire at the old millhouse, lost bike, found bike, car accident down on 5^th Monroe and Maple drive. No injuries, just damage to the cars, which is causing traffic to back up. Alternative route suggestions. Then a quick clip on how to make pumpkin spice cake. Laughs, smiles, laughs. Yeah, get on with the good stuff, Lily whispers. The brief five minutes when the station gives a section to a more global headline, the brief insight to the grimier stuff, well usually anyway. Today ends up being a brief update on the disappearance of a girl, but there’s no details other than she’s been gone for a week and is still missing. “Keep an eye out everyone and if you have any information at all call this number.”

“Maddie, would you turn that off,” my mother shouts from the kitchen. “I hate it when you watch the news. Please, find something else to watch.” She says this every day. I’m not sure what bothers her about it, but for some reason she seems dead set on me not watching the news.

I click off the television halfway through the clip. It’s nearing five thirty, so I decide to go into my room to change into my go-to-work uniform. It’s a little early for work, but if I leave now I can make a much-needed extra stop on the way.