Distance Session II

“In our last session, Ashlie, you told me about the dream you had…”

As she spoke, Dr. Hayz consciously tried not to sound wary. Though she had agreed to Miguel’s presence, she knew that it would be at least a few minutes before she would feel less uncomfortable with the situation.

On her monitor, she could see the two of them sitting side by side on the sofa. Ashlie had moved her laptop from her lap to the coffee table in front of the sofa on which they sat so that they could both be seen in the frame.

“Yes.”

On the screen, the therapist nodded, considering how to proceed.

“Would you like to perhaps outline or summarize for Miguel, so that-”

“He knows,” Ashlie interrupted quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“I called Miguel as soon as I woke up the next morning.” Ashlie looked at Miguel and then back to the computer screen.

Dr. Hayz nodded, lowering her eyes. A faint tapping sound came from the laptop’s speakers as the doctor typed something into her computer, taking notes.

“Yes, you tell him everything.” Again trying to keep any hint of emotion from her voice, she spoke under her breath. She felt that she should have known that Ashlie would have already disclosed this information to her friend but reminded herself that she hadn’t told him about the outing with Brandon.

“Ashlie was very upset.” Miguel began, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “She called me in tears.”

“I imagine she was,” the doctor replied, “and for good reason. It must have been quite a shock.”

“I- I couldn’t call you…” Ashlie looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “It was too early.”

“It’s ok, Ashlie” While sometimes uncomfortable with the fact that she was usually unable to council her patient first, she did feel a comfort knowing that Ashlie had someone else that she could turn to. “I just want to make sure that Miguel is up to speed with things before we continue.”

Raising her head to look again at the screen, Ashlie nodded.

“Now then, before we continue, I want you to know that I spent extra time assessing and going over the dream you described to me,” Dr Hayz said. “And what you experienced was not a dream.”

“It wasn’t?”

“I mean, of course it was a dream.” The doctor shook her head. “But it was more than that: it was a flashback.”

“A flashback?” Ashlie stammered, feeling her chest tighten as her mind raced.

“Yes, Ashlie. In the two days since our last session, I have been going over statements and reports from the night that you lost your parents,” the therapist said, studying her patient’s face.

Time felt as though it stood still as Ashlie stared at the computer screen. Sweat broke out on her forehead but her body was cold and numb.

“I have copies of all the police reports and witness statements given that night, and from what you described to me two days ago, I am confident that your dream was you remembering what happened that night.”

“W- What?” Ashlie stammered while at the same time almost gasped, as she’d momentarily forgotten to breathe. There was a slight ringing in her ears and she wasn’t certain she’d heard all of what the therapist had said after mentioning the night her parents had died.

She turned her head to look at Miguel as she became aware of his hand on her shoulder and how tightly he held her. His gaze was fixed on the laptop, his mouth slightly ajar. His face pale, he wore a slight look of incredulity. It was the first time he’d ever heard anything having to do with the fate of Ashlie’s parents, aside from the whispered rumors in the children’s home.

“But… I can’t remember anything about…”

A moment of silence passed, and on the laptop’s screen Dr. Hayz’s expression changed slightly. It was clear that she was thinking, but her face portrayed that she was thinking on something from a long time ago.

“I know,” she said finally, looking directly at the camera on her side, shaking her head slowly as she spoke. “It was the events of the night eighteen years ago that first caused your psyche to splinter. When the police found you under the table, it was believed that you were catatonic. It wasn’t until days later that I was able to first diagnose signs of your condition.”

Ashlie felt her face warm and slowly drew in a deep breath.

“It was the first time…” The doctor hesitated, not wanting to give her patient more information than she could handle. “And until now, I thought- or rather, I hoped that you would never recover that memory.”

Ashlie’s heart began to quicken, and she felt the cold again wash over her as pieces of the dream flashed in her mind. They no longer felt real. They now felt like the remnants of a nightmare. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped in front of her.

Beside her, Miguel also leaned forward, his arm still around her shoulder. He studied her face with concern, but said nothing, despite not being able to help but wonder about what the therapist would revealed.

“You’re telling me that it actually happened?” Shaking her head, a look of terror on her face, Ashlie felt as though she couldn’t breathe. “It wasn’t a-”

The words catching in her throat, Ashlie almost choked, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her whole body began to tremble.

She had always known that her parents were dead. As a young child she had been given those standard answers that adults give to children to explain when someone has passed away: her parents felt no pain, and they were in a better place. As she’d gotten older, she learned that they had been victims of a shooting, the information reluctantly given to her by one of the sisters at the home.

“I’m so sorry, Ashlie.” The doctor said, feeling helpless in the moment. “I hoped that your mind had locked away that night away from your memory all together. I really-”

“And I was there…” Ashlie whispered in disbelief. Her bottom lip quivered and she pursed her lips, her eyes unable to hold back her tears. Growing up in the children’s home, she had heard the rumors; whispers of the girl who had been in the room at the same time they were killed, but she’d always had no recollection.

When the memory had been that of a dream, she’d felt uneasy and scared as if she’d just seen a horror movie. Now she was hearing that what she had seen in her sleep that night was something that had not only happened but had happened to her. She had actually lived though it. A feeling of dread washed over her and she suddenly felt physically ill.

The vision played out again in her mind, despite everything in her desperately wanting to forget it. Every detail she could remember, only she now knew that it wasn’t just a dream.

As she started to sway, Miguel pulled her to him and Ashlie buried her face in his shoulder, weeping uncontrollably as the memories overwhelmed her. For several moments, he held her tightly, his cheek pressed against the top of her head as he tried to hold himself together. After several minutes, her sobs subsided and her breathing slowed though she did not move.

His best friend was the strongest person Miguel knew. She always had been. She was sensitive and cried easily and he was used to consoling her. But he couldn’t even begin to imagine trying to process the shock of the information she’d just been given. He could hardly believe that he’d actually heard it.

With a sigh, he gently stroked Ashlie’s hair, turning his head to look at the laptop on the coffee table. He could see the sympathy on the therapist’s face as she looked on.

From her office, Dr. Hayz watched Miguel consoling her patient, relieved that he was there to do so. As uneasy as she’d been with his presence, she was thankful that Ashlie hadn’t taken the call alone.

Ashlie had been her patient for eighteen years. She was her longest standing client and treating Ashlie from immediately after she’d lost her parents, she’d watched the girl grow up. And although they’d only ever shared a doctor/patient relationship, the therapist could not help fostering a motherly feeling toward her patient.

The doctor nodded slowly, her lips pursed, and then silently mouthed the words ‘thank you,’ to which Miguel lowered his gaze from the screen, and turned his head slightly.

“I’m sorry, Ashlie.” Dr. Hayz’s voice came softly from the speakers in the laptop.

Quickly, Miguel looked again at the computer screen and gave a shake of his head, his eyes narrowed.

“I think that perhaps we should finish this conversation at another stage,” the therapist said slowly with a slight nod, not looking away from Miguel. “I realize now that this is a topic we should have discussed in person, and in the privacy of my office.”

Turning his eyes from the doctor, Miguel again pressed his cheek to Ashlie’s head.

“No…”

Ashlie’s voice was muffled against her friend’s shoulder. She lifted her head quickly, bumping Miguel’s mouth with her head, and pushed herself away from him.

“Sweetie,” Miguel said, rubbing his lip and looking puzzled, “maybe Dr. Hayz is right-”

“No!”

Ashlie dropped to her knees on the floor in front of the laptop. She wiped her tear-stained cheek with the back of her hand, looking wide-eyed at her therapist on the screen.

“Ash,” Miguel said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Shaking her head, Ashlie stared at the computer screen.

“The girl,” she said. “I watched her… I saw her… she was… dead.”

Her lips pursed, Ashlie’s jaw clenched and a tear fell from her eye into her lap.

“I had hoped that you would never remember that, Ashlie.” Dr. Hayz said.

“Who was she?” Ashlie drew a long wavering breath, her expression becoming horrified. “I knew her. I must have known her… she looked so familiar…”

“Yes,” the therapist answered, her voice strained. She looked uncomfortable and lowered her gaze. “You did. You knew her very well.”

Ashlie’s eyes went wide and the color drained from her face as a thought came to her. For a moment she couldn’t remember either of her parents’ faces, only that of the girl who had pushed her under the table. Feeling light-headed, her mind raced and a wave nausea crashed over her.

“No…” she gasped. Turning her head, she met Miguel’s worried gaze and struggled to draw breath.

“What is it, sweetie?” Feeling helpless, Miguel fought his own emotions so as not to let her see him react to not only what he’d heard, but also to her own reaction. He’d never seen her like this. He wanted to slam the laptop shut, ending the call with the therapist, and hold his friend.

Her breath coming in short gasps, Ashlie shook her head and turned again to the computer, to see Dr Hayz’s concerned face, the doctor’s hand at her mouth, her fingertips touching her lips.

“Who was she? W- Was she-” Fighting the sick feeling that welled at the back of her throat, Ashlie clenched her teeth so slightly that pain throbbed from her jaw into her temples. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she fought to be able to continue speaking. “Did I-”

“Ashlie…?”

“Did I have a sister?”

From beside her, Miguel inhaled sharply, unable to stifle his gasp. He looked quickly to the doctor.

Dr. Hayz’s hand dropped from in front of her mouth, a stunned look on her face. Her eyes glistened as stared at her patient numbly. The girl on her screen was pale and red-eyed, damp strands of her hair clinging to her forehead and cheeks, matted down by her sweat and tears.

“N- no, Ashlie… no…” The therapist stammered, speaking softly, and trying her best to compose herself. The question caught her completely off-guard. She heard herself respond but was unsure she’d actually spoken until a moment later when the picture in the video chat lurched. Ashlie’s face disappeared except for the back of her head as she laid her head on her arm, pushing the laptop away a few inches, and wept openly in relief. 

She pursed her lips before continuing.

“Christina was not your sister.”

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