Hollow (Perfect Little Pieces) - By Ava Conway Page 0,3

have no shame?

I tightened my arms around my knees and leaned against the window. Perhaps if I pressed hard enough against the glass, I could push my body through and escape this terrible nightmare.

“Lucy, honey.”

I looked up to see the doctor sitting on the small window-side bench by my feet.

“Why don’t you join us?”

Maybe when hell freezes over. I turned back to the window and wondered if the doctor knew her institution was being used by my parents in a political power-play on Capitol Hill. Probably not. My mother was charismatic and persuasive. The doctor probably thought the gift was given out of the goodness of my parents’ hearts.

I knew better. Everything my parents did had a political motive—especially my mother. Every club they belonged to, every friend they made, had a hidden purpose. Now they were using my presence at this hospital to serve one of their agendas. It was disgusting.

The doctor placed her clipboard on her lap and sighed. “Every day you show up to your required therapy sessions—group, recreational, even the one-on-one—yet every day you refuse to participate.”

I pulled my knees closer to my chest. Like I had a choice. I was forced to go to all of those therapy sessions. It was part of my new treatment program and for every session I attended, I got points toward rewards like going into the courtyard or getting a coffee from the visitor café downstairs.

They could force my attendance, but they couldn’t make me participate.

“You want to reach out, I can see that.” The doctor placed her palm on my fingers. It felt like ice. I jerked away at the intimate contact, but the chill had already infected my bloodstream and was working its way to my chest.

“I wish you’d speak to me. Just once.”

I closed my eyes as the doctor’s chill sliced through my chest and turned into a hollow ache. The doctor didn’t care about me, not really. To her, I was just a job. She could go home at five o’clock and leave this dreadful place. I was stuck here for at least the next few months, quite possibly the rest of my life.

“You can trust me, Lucy. I’m your friend. I want to help.”

Friends? Just like Bethany and Kyle were my friends? No, having friends only brought pain. It was much safer not to touch or talk, to be an isolated island of strength.

“Come on. The dogs are beautiful.” The doctor smiled at the crowd on the other side of the room. “They’re so soft, too. Why don’t we go over and touch one of them?”

Hell no. Those dogs were sponsored by my parents. They were a painful reminder of how far I had fallen from their expectations, of the failure I had become. I glanced at the group and saw the big burly patient watching me with open interest. He nodded and offered a half-smile that made him look even creepier.

I jerked my head back to the doctor and shook my head. If she thought I was leaving this bench, then she was crazier than all of the patients at Newton Heights put together.

“Okay,” the doctor said after a moment. “I understand.”

Did she? I doubted that. Crowds always reminded me of what happened that night at the fraternity party, so I avoided them whenever I could. Even being in a small group like this made it difficult to keep the ghosts away.

We were at a party. Kyle and I had gotten into a fight…

A chilling emptiness squeezed my chest, making it a little difficult to breathe. Scenes from the accident flashed through my mind. One minute we were all talking. Kyle had tried to apologize for our latest fight, but I refused to listen. He was putting his hand on my knee and then…oh God, the blood.

I blinked back tears and tried to fight the memories, shoving them back into the black hole from which they came. Blood, so much blood.

“We’ll be meeting with the dogs for the next few weeks. Maybe we can work our way up to petting one of them before they’re gone.”

Not likely. The tightening in my chest increased. It was as if icy claws were squeezing the life from my lungs. I glanced at the clock once more. Still another ninety minutes until pill time. Just my luck.

“Dr. Polanski?” A male staff member approached, his brow creasing in worry. He wore a similar uniform to the doctor.

“Yes, Elias?”

“There is an issue with one of the patients…”

“Who?”

“Mr. Martinez. He’s