by Carys Jones
“Did I say something to upset you?” Dr Colton enquired with concern, leaning forward in his leather armchair.
“No,” Marie looked at him and forced herself to smile sweetly. She loathed his office. It had a forced casual air which made her uncomfortable. There was a garish rug upon the floor and a small fireplace which was always simmering away after previously hosting some grey flames.
Dr Colton had gone to great lengths to make his office feel homely and inviting but ultimately it all just felt too false. No one lived there, it was still a place of work no matter how many potted plants or framed pieces of art he adorned the place with.
“Marie, do you feel like you belong here?” he asked bluntly.
Marie frowned at the question. Which here was he referring to? Did he mean the office or was he talking on a grander scale? Did he mean the world? In both instances her answer would be no.
Cautiously Marie shook her head.
“Many patients who’ve suffered excessive trauma like you have struggle to adapt to the real world once they’ve recovered,” he said empathetically.
“You’ve been coming here for a few weeks now and we’ve not seen much progress. You remain detached from the world around you, why do you think that is?”
Marie frowned. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one with all the answers? Dr Colton remained silent and stared intently at her. It was a tactic he often used when he wanted Marie to respond. He knew that if he maintained an awkward silence for long enough she’d eventually find it unbearable and say something.
“Because I don’t belong here,” Marie replied quickly.
“Where do you think you belong?” Dr Colton was writing in his notepad as his spoke.
“Not here.”
“Your family think that talking to someone like myself will benefit you, will help you feel like you belong again.”
“They’re wrong.” Marie stated factually.
“How can you be so certain of that?”
Marie rolled her eyes and searched the room for a clock, remembering that there wasn’t one. Time seemed to lose all meaning when speaking with Dr Colton. Yet another trick to lure patients in to a false sense of security.
She began to pick at a stray piece of cotton which had come loose from the jogging bottoms she was wearing. She liked wearing loose clothing like jogging bottoms and sweat shirts as they didn’t cling too tightly to her sore limbs. Everything was still so tender. Her legs constantly throbbed and ached, as did her head and her chest burned with pain every time she sneezed or coughed. They were all very prominent, consistent reminders of what her body had been through. It made escaping the accident almost impossible.
“Why don’t we talk about the day of the accident?” Dr Colton suggested, trying a new angle.
“Okay.”
“What do you remember?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you remember being in your car?”
“Not really.”
“What about when you were in a coma? Do you remember anything from that time?”
Marie tensed on the chaise lounge, the gesture making her wince slightly. Did Dr Colton know about Azriel? His line of questioning seemed to be luring her in to revealing her time spent there but she couldn’t trust this man, she barely knew him.
“Sometimes patients recall having very vivid dreams whilst in a coma, have you heard that before?”
“Yes,” Marie nodded trying to sound non-committal.
“Did you have any dreams you can remember?”
“This is all just a waste of time,” Marie declared heatedly. She reached for her crutches and began to position them so she could stand up.
“Marie, I’m just trying to help,” Dr Colton said softly. “Everyone just wants you to get better.”
Marie ignored him as she carefully hoisted herself up on to her sore legs, leaning heavily on her crutches. She looked incredulously at him.
“Wounds will heal in time,” the doctor told her, his voice soothing. “What I’m concerned with are the wounds which we can’t see, the wounds inflicted upon the mind.”
“But don’t you see,” Marie raged, weary of him psychoanalysing her. “I don’t belong here!”
Marie hated getting upset. When she got upset the pain in her forehead grew in intensity and made her vision blur. She needed to remain calm.
“Then where do you belong?” Dr Colton asked, careful not to stand up and assist Marie. The last time he’d tried to help her she’d been furious. It was extremely important that she maintain some semblance of independence and control.
“Not here! I belong someplace where I’m important! Someplace better than here!” Marie had struggled over to the door and was about to head in to the waiting room.
“I’ll see you next week, Marie,” Dr Colton said calmly as Marie manoeuvred herself through the door and let it slam shut behind her.
Alone in his office Dr Colton quickly completed his notes about his meeting with Marie. She had demonstrated numerous red flags which concerned him but then she always did. What saddened him was that she didn’t seem interested in getting better mentally. It was as if something in her had switched off after the accident and she no longer engaged with the world as she once had.
Her parting words danced around in his head and he quickly scribbled one closing assessment of their meeting which he underlined several times, certain that it was the root cause of her apparent displacement in personality. The word looked out at him, harsh and finite in its accusation. But Dr Colton was growing ever certain that it was correct. At the base of his notes read his verdict upon Marie;
Delusional
*
“I think you’ll like the Christmas Market,” Sebastian stated brightly as he and Marie walked towards the coloured stalls.
The scent of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts filled Marie’s senses and she briefly closed her eyes and envisioned Azriel.
“Are you okay?” Sebastian was looking at her, his eyebrows bunched together in concern.
“I’m fine,” Marie reassured him. And in some ways she was.
Each day her body ached a little less, her movements were a little easier. They were small changes but they were still significant. Even though she still needed her crutches her legs were feeling stronger, almost ready to take her full weight.
The Christmas Market was pulsating with energy. Eager shoppers bundled up in their coats and hats approached each stall to behold the variety of items on display. There were handcrafted ornaments, sweet stalls, stalls offering freshly made egg nog. It was difficult not to be swept away by the sentiment of the season.
“We always loved the Christmas Market,” Sebastian explained as he guided Marie towards a stall that offered a variety of chocolate shaped delights. There was a chocolate shaped nutcracker, a white chocolate Christmas tree and hundreds of candy canes scattered around.
Marie used to love the sweet stalls. She’d survey them with wide eyes, giving each product her full attention before making the all-important decision about what she would have. Back then she was bursting with excitement, like a child on Christmas morning and her enthusiasm was contagious. Sebastian always had so much fun with her. She saw past the trappings of his rich heritage and just saw him. He found such comfort in that. He wanted Marie to be like that again, so that he could lose himself in her boundless joy for life.
But this year was different. Marie remained by his side as they entered the market. Usually she’d have dashed off, giddy with anticipation and he’d have to search her out. He’d find her pouring over the wares of one of the stalls, kindly complimenting the owner on what lovely products they had on show. Everyone always loved Marie, she was so bubbly and bright, like a spark that set the whole world ablaze.
“What do you want to look at?” he asked as Marie ambled beside him. Her movements were less awkward now and she moved seamlessly with the crutches.
Marie titled her head to glance around and then shrugged.
&nb
sp; “What do we normally look at?”
“Everything.”
As they entered the main throng within the market Marie had to admit that she really rather liked it. Everywhere was adorned in the festive colours of red, gold and green and there were fairy lights strung across any accessible surface making the whole area twinkle majestically.
Of all the places she had been since her car accident, this was the most like Azriel and she felt herself starting to relax slightly. From the corner of her eye she spotted a stall selling chocolate goods and she carefully started to navigate her way through the crowd towards it.
Sebastian noticed her leave his side and smiled. He waited a moment before following, aware of how important it was for Marie to feel that she was reclaiming her independence. When he came up beside her she’d rested her crutches against the stall and was using her hands to peruse the packaged chocolate items.
“This looks nice,” she commented to the lady working the stall as she held up a chocolate nutcracker.
“Oh it is,” the lady assured her. “The centre is filled with nougat.”
“Oooh,” Marie turned the chocolate figure over in her hands. It looked so delicious with its iced features and sweet outer coating. Her mouth began to water just looking at it.
“We’ll take two,” Sebastian handed a ten pound note across to the lady working the stall.
“You like these?” Marie asked, surprised.
“What’s not to like?” Sebastian beamed. “They are delicious. After we’ve eaten them we could get a hot chocolate if you like? Maybe go all out and stick some marshmallows and whipped cream on top?”
The old Marie couldn’t get enough of anything sweet. She’d have her hot chocolate filled with as much whipped cream and marshmallows as the vendor would allow and then she’d dip ginger biscuits in to it, savouring each warm, sweet bite.
For a moment, Sebastian thought that the old Marie had returned as she stood smiling at the stall, clearly eager to rip open her nutcracker and take a bite. Then something in her face darkened and she immediately stiffened.
From her position at the front of the stall Marie was entranced by all the sweet products on display. They were all wrapped so appealingly with bright ribbons that glittered in the light. She was so focused on them that she didn’t initially spot the man wearing a long navy coat who came and stood at the opposite end of the stall. But he wasn’t there to look at the chocolate treats, he was looking at Marie.
Like really looking at her. The sort of staring that immediately crosses the line from acceptable to inappropriate. Marie felt his eyes upon her before she saw him, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. Glancing up she felt her body turn to ice when she saw him.
He looked so intently at her and then suddenly, just for a split second, his eyes shimmered with a golden glow. Marie audibly gasped.
“Marie?” she turned briefly when Sebastian called her name and when she looked back the man in the coat was gone.
“Did you see?” she pointed lamely at the spot he’d previously occupied.
“Come on, let’s go find somewhere to sit and eat these,” Sebastian suggested, guiding her away from the stall.
As they walked away Marie kept looking back, completely distracted.
“Marie, are you alright?”
Marie didn’t answer. As they walked through the crowd she kept feeling various pairs of eyes upon her. She felt like she was on display and it unnerved her.
As the crowd grew thicker the sensation of being watched became unbearable. As people passed by some locked eyes with Marie and stared at her, looking right down to her soul.
“Can we go?” she pressed herself up against Sebastian for comfort.
“We only just got here,” he protested.
Finally the crowd thinned as they came to the outskirts of the market and there was an unoccupied bench where Sebastian settled Marie.
“I’ll go get us some hot chocolates,” he told her.
“Don’t leave me alone,” Marie begged. Though she no longer felt like she was being watched the sensation had stayed with her, making her skin crawl beneath the various layers she was wearing to keep out the cold.
“I thought you wanted to be more independent,” Sebastian objected. “I won’t be gone long, just stay there.”
He didn’t give her the opportunity to protest further. He headed back towards the market and was instantly absorbed by the crowd.
Feeling alone and vulnerable Marie shifted uncomfortably on the hard, cold bench. She wished that she could run. Currently she couldn’t even manage a brisk walk to get away from someone. The chocolate nutcrackers which had been left in her care looked up vacantly at her.
“They look nice,” a male voice complimented as they sat down beside her. Marie felt her entire body tense.
She didn’t need to turn and look at who it was. She knew it would be the man from the stall. Daring to glance from the corner of her eye she saw the blue of his coat and felt her heart sink.
“Leave me alone,” she ordered.
“You know why I’m here, North.”
“Don’t call me that,” Marie shook her head fiercely. She was going mad. There was no other explanation.
“But it’s your name,” the stranger objected.
“How are you even here? How are you even real?” Marie demanded, turning to face him as her cheeks flushed with fury.
The man in the navy coat appeared to be in his late thirties with dark hair which was already spattered with silver streaks. His eyes were now a dark blue, no longer a glittering gold.
“How are you here?” he deflected the question back to her.
“I don’t know,” Marie admitted desperately. “I don’t understand any of this.”
“You’re not the only one to cross over,” the man told her sagely. “But you’re the only one who needs to get back. Azriel needs you.”
Marie gripped the nutcrackers to her chest. If Azriel needed her then why was she stuck here?
“What am I supposed to do?” Marie asked. “How do I get back? Azriel exists only in my dreams now.”
There was something liberating about speaking the name of the world she’d left behind aloud. It made it all seem more real somehow.
“It’s still there, you know it is,” the stranger told her. “And you know how to get back.”
“I don’t!” Marie cried. “Tell me.”
“You know, you just haven’t realised that you possess the knowledge yet. But you need to hurry up, your people need you.”
The man stood up and made to leave.
“Wait!” Marie begged. If he walked away she’d be unable to follow him in her incapacitated state.
“I’ve got to return,” the man told her. “My time here is brief.”
“Tell me how to get back! Tell me what to do!” Marie implored him as one of the nutcrackers cracked against her chest, instantly decapitated.
“I’ve got to get back,” the man said apologetically, walking away. “I suggest you do the same.”
He waved goodbye and as he did so his eyes once more sparkled with a golden gleam and then he disappeared in to the crowd and the world was how it had been.
Shaken Marie looked around. She was certain that she was conscious, that she hadn’t fallen asleep upon the bench and dreamt the strange man’s visit. He’d spoken of Azriel, it had to be real. All of it.
“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” Sebastian smiled as he returned carrying two cups of hot chocolate.
“I got yours with extra cream and extra marshmallows, just as you like it,” he explained proudly as he handed up a cup to her.
Marie accepted it and handed him a nutcracker.
“Oh, what happened to him?” he exclaimed having received the broken one.
“I must have held him too tightly,” Marie apologised. She looked down forlornly at her hot chocolate, her mind racing with ways she could return to Azriel. But it now existed only in her dre
ams, did she need to sleep more? None of it made any sense.
“Something on your mind?” Sebastian noticed the distant look in her eyes. He hated it when she had that look, it was as if he could witness her slipping away from him. Normally she was so engaged in whatever they were doing. He’d give anything for her to be more present with him.
“Not really…no,” Marie scanned the crowd ahead of them, searching in vain for a long navy coat and its golden eyed wearer.
