Free Life After by P.A Warren Page A

will really benefit from it. I recommend this to all of my patients who have suffered a loss or been in an accident. Hadley, I really think it would be beneficial to you to start seeing a psychologist. I think these feelings you have are normal but can get worse if you don’t talk to someone, preferably a professional.”
    “But I haven’t told you about all of my feelings so how can you have any clue about them?”
    Taking his glasses off Dr.Finley looks at me with a look of sadness on his face. “Hadley, losing your family is something you cannot deal with on your own when you have expressed some of what is going on in your head to me. I want you to do this for your own benefit so you can lead a normal life. I don’t want to get called in one night because you overdosed or even worse are in the morgue.”
    I am struck silent, I have no words. I cannot even respond to him because his words are true. When he finally does stop talking he moves to the tray of evil looking instruments and sets them next to me telling me to look at the wall.
    “Let me know when you’re going to cut the stitches.” Holding my breath, I’m secretly craving the pain when he cuts the stitches off, but am disappointed when I feel none.
    I hear him taking his gloves off and throwing them in the trash. “We are done, great job Hadley,” he says while wiping his hands with sanitizer. “Tell your Aunt to come in once you get into the waiting room I want a word with her, please.”
    Handing me my crutches, I slink out of the room. I’m left mulling over what he said about therapy while they’re talking. I should have lied. Should have said I was okay. Damn it. I don’t want to see a shrink. I’m fine.
    After awhile my Aunt walks out of the room clutching a packet of papers to her chest. She smiles at me with what I can only assume is a fake smile since it’s so big. She even make’s a saluting gesture at me. Rolling my eyes I get up and we walk out the door. We don’t really talk on the way to the car but  only knowing Jenny for a short time I can tell she is a woman on a mission who is going to make me talk , whether I want to or not.
    Touching the sleek metal door of the car stops me cold; my breath comes out in gasps. Jenny looks up from trying to find her keys in her purse to see me having a panic attack and walks over pulling the crumpled brown bag out of her purse. Putting it over my mouth she tells me to breathe in, two, three and out, two, three.
    Once my heart feels like I’m not going to have a heart attack I get in the car. The silence is overwhelming and my anxiety is still really high. To take my mind off it and my panic attack I lean forward switching on the radio. Jenny looks over at me and turns it off. My fingers start tapping out a rhythm while I wait until I can turn the music back on. Reaching into my purse I search around for my ipod but fail to find it. Huffing I cross my arms and I stare at the dashboard.

Chapter Twelve
     
    “You hungry?” She looks out her window as we are passing a Taco For You.
    “Yeah, But I can’t eat Taco For You anymore.”
    We had stopped for Taco’s after Lexi’s recital. I haven’t been able to stomach going back there since the accident. It’s stupid, since the restaurant had nothing to do with the accident but it is what it is.
    “I was thinking more along the lines of a sit down restaurant so we can talk.”
    “Great,” Mentally kicking myself. Now I’m trapped and we have to talk, just what I don’t want to do. How do I get myself in these situations? I just know she is going to say something about me seeing the psychologist or something. Staring out the window I am full of trepidation as my aunt pulls us into the parking lot. Peering out of the car windshield I see we are at a restaurant called, Jimmy’s Shack only it’s not a shack. It’s a nice looking place; it has as so many different themes going on that I’m starting to think the theme is Chaos. I like it.