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Janet’s attention diverted outside, her mind defiant as circumstances beyond her choice. Janet blows out a breath, relatively desire wrapped up in a cozy quilt. Recumbent in a king-size bed linger from the domain. Janet’s heart is failing as if invisible hands grip from within. Janet’s chest is heavy; her spirit suffers deep in agony. Outside she is flawless, not a hair out of place. The inner battle rages inside, refusing to extinguish.
Spring is upon this weary world yet again, pain and agony associated with the one season she once loved. Spring’s a period for rebirth, new life brought to this unfair existence, the tree outside has buds upon the branches. As of now, her least favorite season. A year has passed since she woke up in the hospital, recovering from knife wounds. Disgusted by sheer view of everlasting markings. Raw chasms of puckered flesh, paler than the rest of her skin. A permanent reminder of her failings to triumph over the malicious wrath.
She modestly agreed to see a shrink to satisfy Sean. Sean O'Malley has been her life line to keep her from drowning. Her life would be meaningless without his embrace; a sheer comfort for her damaged soul. Since waking from a long coma the have been inseparable. A bird builds a nest in the crook of a tremendous maple tree. The bird appears obsessive by his task. Easy for the world to keep turning while she is stuck in one place, her personal hell.
"Janet?" Dr. Masson peers over her bifocals condemnation in her voice.
“Janet,” the doctor tries again determination in her voice, “You haven’t been talkative today. What is your purpose in coming to the office today?”
Janet stews as she keeps watching the tree, a bird sits on a branch. She pretended she didn’t hear the question. Not a care in the world, moving sticks, grass and a piece of fabric that looks like a pink ribbon to build a home. How simple. I wish life was just this simple.
The bird rambled through his daily motions is exhausting, getting out of bed is a chore which leads to why Janet is sitting on the worn couch spilling her deepest darkest secrets. Janet was basically forced to this predicament by her loving boyfriend. Of Course, she didn’t fuss much he had been feeling neglected. She takes no joy in nothing in her life to date. Janet focuses her thoughts. The thoughts slam her brain until she overwhelmed. A headache begins, shooting through her forehead as if a car slams through a brick wall. Where to begin? Janet looks at her hands; hands she barely perceives as her own.
"I don't know where to start," Janet whispers in a voice barely recognizable.
"We need to establish the foundation pertaining your issue," the doctor clarifies.
Lowering her head in defeat, monotone voice. “My issue is apparent and where to start is now clear." Her breath hitching as she searches for the correct verse. “It started when I met Gary Anderson in Philadelphia, a birthday party three years ago...” The precise creation of this ambulatory nightmarish reality.