by Rik Johnston
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I
THE APPARITION
The apparition stood in front of Tuesday, not answering her questions in any timely manner. The two faced off for a good moment before the creature addressed her again, the fear in Tuesday continuing to rise inside of her.
“Tuesday.” The phantom hissed, its voice causing her physical pain when it spoke her name. “I forewarned that I was coming for you.”
Tuesday remembered the feeling of those icy talons on her skin, the taunting sound of its hissy voice, but most of all she remembered being paralyzed with fear. “Who are you?” Tuesday screamed, hoping to obtain an answer from the creature. She had to scream, in her mind the environment around her became a maelstrom of noise, a roar that she had to project her words over the top of. The rumble of everything around Tuesday was deafening and she couldn’t hear anything, save for the painful voice of The Nightmare. “What do you want from me?”
Tuesday tried to dig deep insider herself to stifle the fear that was holding her back. If she was afraid, her power would be useless to her, and she would not be able to fight this creature. Even worse, The Nightmare could clearly see how afraid Tuesday was, and fed into that fear to make itself stronger. Tuesday didn’t know what to do, and wished that Doctor Frederiksen was still there to guide her.
“You have cheated me, Tuesday.” The Nightmare spoke, aiming the pain of its voice right into her mind, increasing the volume of the environment, which began to swirl and distort as it moved counter clockwise around her. “You have awakened me from my slumber, and now your will is mine to control.”
Tuesday then spoke up loudly, in an attempt bluff The Nightmare. “I WILL NOT fear you.” Her challenge to The Nightmare did not have the intended effect she was hoping that it would, as she felt herself weakening, even as she spoke the words. She dropped to her knees, as if she had been forced to kneel by The Nightmare.
“You will dread me, Tuesday!” The Nightmare reasserting its position, the icy talons of its voice taking hold of her once again. “You will fear not only me, but you will also fear yourself.”
Tuesday’s mind couldn’t focus in the unmusicality of her environment, the lack of harmony siphoning her spirit and sense of resistance. But somewhere inside of herself, she found the courage to speak against The Nightmare again. “NO!” She cried as she somehow struggled back onto her feet. “I am in control here!”
The Nightmare began to laugh with a sound that caused even more pain than its words did. Its amusement grew into malfeasance, and Tuesday was forced back to her knees from the pain The Nightmare’s laughter was causing. “You dare challenge me?” The creature said, pressing its advantage. “Let me show you how little control you have. Let me show you what you are capable of?”
Tuesday wasn’t sure what The Nightmare meant by that, but she was sure that she was about to find out, whether she wanted to or not.
II
THE NIGHTMARE’S CONTROL
The Nightmare extended his arm toward Tuesday and the environment shifted and morphed around them. When everything had quieted and settled, they were in a location that was familiar to Tuesday, though she hadn’t seen it in many years. The inside of the house was large and extravagantly decorated with pictures of their family’s generations adorning the walls. It didn’t take Tuesday long to realize that they were in the house of Thomas Jackson.
“Why did you bring me here?” Tuesday asked, not knowing what The Nightmare had intended. “What is the purpose of this?”
The Nightmare came direct and to the point with her. “You swindled me out of a life today, so you’re going to give me two.” The Nightmare would have appeared to be pleased with himself, if he had a face within that hood to make such a gesture.
Tuesday couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This creature clearly felt a sense of entitlement, and that all life and death belonged to it. “You think that I’m going to kill somebody for you, you’re gravely mistaken.”
“You will slaughter whomever I choose.” The Nightmare commanded, its hissy voice pressing into her thoughts, violating her in a way she had never felt before. “And there is nothing you can do to hinder it.”
“I am not going to kill anybody, and you cannot make me!” Tuesday countered, trying to muster up as much of her resistance as she could between bouts of physical pain caused by the voice of The Nightmare.
“That is where you are mistaken.” The Nightmare stated, cold and calculating in his approach to her. “You will kill who I request you to, or I will force you kill somebody you cherish.”
At that moment, Serina and Jessica appeared at the top of the staircase, beginning their descent down to the main floor, discussing which one of them had the better boyfriend by comparing observations they had made. The pair of them were giggling and chattering excitedly and had soon reached the main floor of the house and walked out to the back yard to sit in the sun while they were waiting for their boyfriends to arrive. The Nightmare followed them outside, hot on their heels and Tuesday felt a strong compulsion to follow them.
“Kill them.” The Nightmare said, extending his arm in Tuesday’s direction. “Kill them both.”
Dreadful thoughts began to permeate Tuesday’s mind, and she was having great difficulty blocking them out. The more brutal the thought she had entertained was, the more she feared it, and lost more and more of her defensive control. She had thoughts of the two of them disconnecting the tennis net and hanging themselves in it, thoughts of them slipping into the pool and drowning, thoughts of breaking every single bone in their bodies one at a time and crushing them like insects. Each thought that crept into Tuesday’s brain, she worked hard to push to the back of her mind so that they would not occur.
“You abhor them and you crave their deaths.” The Nightmare taunted, trying to incite negative emotion within Tuesday. “You declared it yourself.”
“Stop it!” Tuesday screamed trying to clear her mind of every dark thought that entered it. “Make it stop!”
The Nightmare was unsympathetic to her pleas. “You can make it stop, when these two wretched adolescents are deceased.”
The roulette of wicked thoughts kept spinning within Tuesday’s mind, each fate for the Jackson Twins worse than the one that preceded it. And then came the thought that Tuesday could not fight back, a thought that had run through her mind so many times in the past. She tried desperately to shut it out, but the preconceived notion had already played through her mind dozens of times throughout the years, and she relished the thought each time she visualized it. She could no longer hold back the thought of a gunman creeping into their back yard, trying to kill them.
No sooner had Tuesday relented to the thought of the gunman, he emerged from the bushes, looking around to make sure his path to the house was clear. He was undoubtedly taken by surprise seeing the twins in the yard and so without taking aim, he fired three shots blindly, one of which caught Jessica in the head, putting her down on the ground. Tuesday instantaneously shrieked in agony as the pain of the gunshot ripped through her own mind, slamming her body to the ground as well, flailing from the pain caused by her own malicious intent.
Serina cried out, hoping somebody, anybody would hear her. Somebody did her, and it was the man with the gun who had just put down her sister, who was now staring her down, committed to ending her life as well. Serina rotated on her heel, turning toward the house, running as fast as she could to escape the killer, the gunman hot on her heels. The pain subsided almost instantly, which was an indication that Jessica had died from the wound she had sustained, and thankfully her passing had been quick. Tuesday knew that Serina wouldn’t stand a chance if she didn’t try harder to gather her courage to defeat this thing that was causing her to do unspeakable harm to these girls. Picking herself up from the ground, she tried to find the quiet spot in her mind so she could make something happen that would give Serina a chance to escape. Recovering from the momentary
pain of the gunshot, she squeezed her eyes closed, and tried to put that fear in the back of her mind for only a second so she could focus and exert some control over the situation. What Tuesday needed to do was draw The Nightmare’s attention to her, so she could have a window to defend Serina. Calling out to the creature, she seemingly surrendered to it, bluffing, causing it to drop its guard for just a second. This was the window of opportunity that Tuesday needed.
In that split-second moment of serenity, Tuesday and was able to send a solid wood lawn chair flying into the path of the gunman, who was intent upon killing Serina. The lawn chair hit the gunman with enough force to knock him down for a few seconds, and that was all the time that Serina needed to get herself into the house and lock the door behind her. The Nightmare screeched its discontent, sending waves of fear cascading through Tuesday while the dazed gunman got back on his feet and confused as to what was happening and where he was.
“Do not cross me, girl!” The Nightmare roared, refocusing his control over Tuesday’s thoughts, causing her to think of the gunman reacquiring his target. The gunman ran toward the house, and found the door was locked, and he was not able to get inside.
The Nightmare howled with rage at Tuesday’s intervention in the situation. His rage forced Tuesday to the ground with the sensory pain it caused, her vision doubling as the fear intensified itself twice as hard as it had before. She couldn’t see or think straight, but knew that she had to fight through it. She might have disliked Serina, but she did not deserve this fate, and she had to do whatever she could to save her.
The gunman frantically slammed his shoulder against the hardwood door, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, he fired a shot into the plate glass window on the back of the house, allowing him entry, but also setting off a series of alarms. This did not deter the gunman, who now was intent upon killing the only witness to his crime.
The Nightmare’s control was too strong to for Tuesday to resist, and she would need a clear distraction to divert his attention from controlling her. It was clear to her that if she could not find a way to overcome The Nightmare’s control, Serina would be joining her sister very soon. She dug deep within herself and thought of the happiest thing she could think of. What she arrived at was the moment that Jason had come to rescue her from the very girl she was attempting to save. She lived in that moment for just a second, using it to distract herself from The Nightmare’s aural onslaught. And in that moment, everything around her melted away for a brief flash of a second.
Tuesday had found just enough strength to pull away from The Nightmare to ring the doorbell on the front of the house. The Nightmare turned to wonder who might be arriving and if he would be gaining some extra souls, turning to see might be arriving.
Before The Nightmare realized what was happening, Tuesday regained just enough control to get the gunman to turn his weapon on himself. The gun discharged into the head of the gunman, slumping his lifeless body to the floor instantly, sending another shockwave of deadly pain coursing through Tuesday’s own head. Tuesday dropped to the ground, the final thoughts and agony of the gunman tearing through her. But the gunman had no intention of dying with the grace and dignity that Jessica had, as Tuesday laid out on the lawn, enduring the slow, drawn out discomfort of the gunman’s passing.
The Nightmare was wholly displeased. When the gunman had finally passed, Tuesday regained her senses and made a stand to her feet, defiantly addressing The Nightmare. “You now have two lives.” Tuesday said, frantically gathering the courage to further resist The Nightmare and his command over her thoughts and her fears.
“You have cheated me yet again!” The Nightmare screeched, his anger was completely beyond any sense of reckoning. “I have two lives. For your insolence, you will have no reminiscence of this outside of the dream world. You will have a sickening sensation in your stomach and the familiarity that you’re somehow connected to it this as punishment for your insubordination.”
The Nightmare released control of Tuesday’s mind, and faded into oblivion, his voice calling out to her as he disappeared. “Next time, you will do as I ask, or you will execute somebody you treasure.”
As the light returned to the sky, Tuesday crumpled into a heap on the ground and began sobbing furiously, feeling the loss of Jessica, knowing she wouldn’t know anything about it once she woke up. Tuesday had wondered, not for the first time, if this power was a gift, or if it was a curse.
III
SOMETHING ISN’T RIGHT
Doctor Frederiksen woke Tuesday from her hypnotic state, full of questions that needed answering. He had made several observations after being removed from her dream that had him very concerned. While she hadn’t vocally said anything, she seemed to be thrashing around a lot, her heart rate elevated, and her blood pressure rose.
Tuesday sat up, groggy and shaking, a sick feeling dwelled in the pit of her stomach. She had a blank expression upon her face which seemed to indicate confusion at what had just happened. Doctor Frederiksen was quick to search for whatever answers he could find.
“Miss Moxley?” Doctor Frederiksen asked, clearly concerned about her well-being. “Are you alright?” He had to repeat himself several times.
Tuesday did not reply at first, staring off into space and trying to make some sort of sense in her memory gap. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to remember memories that were no longer there. Finally, her mouth began to move, but words were not coming from it at first. A moment later, she seemed to come to her senses as she was fully able to comprehend what Doctor Frederiksen was asking her. “Are you alright?”
“I think so.” Tuesday replied, unsteady in her words. “I feel like something has gone terribly wrong.”
The Doctor’s interest piqued, hearing her words. “Gone terribly wrong, how?”
Tuesday paused for a moment and squinted her eyes, as if trying to recall something that was no longer there. “I can’t explain how, but I know that something horrible has happened.”
“Miss Moxley, something did go wrong during the session.” Doctor Frederiksen admitted candidly, trying his best to figure out how to explain his disappearance from her dream. “I was coaching you and suddenly you shut me out of your mind. I couldn’t reach you.”
Tuesday took a moment to retreat inside herself, thinking about what had happened. She knew that was not what had happened, but couldn’t quite connect all the dots. “No, I don’t think I did it deliberately.” She confessed, trying to piece it all together. “I think you forcefully ejected from my mind.”
Doctor Frederiksen seemed somewhat confused by her choice of words. “Forcefully ejected, Miss Moxley?”
Tuesday tried to be as descriptive as she could, based upon the images her scattered memories had provided. “Yeah, it was as if a giant hand came and just ripped you out of my dream.”
Doctor Frederiksen returned to his own chair and stared at her, stroking his chin in deep thought as he listened to Tuesday speak. “I don’t know what happened, and I can’t remember any of it.” She struggled to get out. “I can’t explain it, I just don’t know.”
“Interesting.” Was the only thing Doctor Frederiksen managed to vocalize.
Doctor Frederiksen grabbed his notes and began to go back over them again, trying to figure out what went wrong with the session, occasionally looking back up at Tuesday, who still had the same blank expression on her face that she did when she woke back up. A long silence is shared between the two of them, with Tuesday trying to remember what had occurred within her dream, and Doctor Frederiksen poring over his notes to see if there might have been anything that triggered her to toss him out. The process was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.
Doctor Frederiksen reached over to answer it, and spoke with a police officer, who was on the other end. “I told you no interruptions when I am with a client.” He said assertively. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were my receptionist.”
Tu
esday tried to make sense of the garbled voice on the other end of the phone but couldn’t understand what it was they were saying. “Officer Downe?” Doctor Frederiksen asked, after a short pause. “Regarding a client? Which one?”
This snapped Tuesday back to reality, and her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She desperately wanted to know what that phone call was about, and why they would be calling him.
“Oh no, what happened?” Doctor Frederiksen asked, seemingly worried about the information being relayed to him. “An accident?”
Tuesday listened intently, trying to hear what was being said on the other end of the phone, but could only extrapolate from what she was hearing Doctor Frederiksen say on his end of the line. “An armed gunman isn’t what I would call an accident.” It all seemed so vague, yet familiar at the same time. And why did she feel the overwhelming urge that she wanted to throw up?
“Uh huh, alright. I’ll have that ready in the morning.” Doctor Frederiksen said, shuffling some file folders around and preparing to hang the phone. “Alright, goodbye.”
He hung up the phone with a solemn look upon his face and was visibly upset. “I’m sorry, I have to call it quits for today.” He said with a sadness in his voice. “One of my other clients has been murdered.”
“Murdered?” Tuesday thought to herself as she managed to squeeze her eyes closed, trying to come to terms with her fragmented memory. Thinking back on all the things in her session, the last thing she could remember was flying and then saving the homeless man, and Doctor Frederiksen getting ripped out of her dream. Little flashes of unfamiliar things raced through her mind, a swimming pool, a lawn chair, a grand staircase. None of it helped her. She concentrated harder and caught a glimpse of a shattered pane of glass and a brief glimpse of Serina Jackson. While she couldn’t put it all together, she knew that the Jackson Twins were somehow involved with this.
“Doctor Frederiksen?” Tuesday spoke timidly, trying to gather the courage to ask him a question. “Were the Jackson Twins your clients?”
“Tuesday, I can’t tell you that, I have confidentiality laws I have to follow.” Doctor Frederiksen answered in a somber tone, but the flabbergasted look on his face practically confirmed the answer to Tuesday’s question.
“This was no accident.” Tuesday admitted, though she couldn’t comprehend how she knew that. “I just somehow know that it isn’t.”
Doctor Frederiksen was taken back by what Tuesday had to say and relented on the information he couldn’t give her. “How did you know this?” He asked her, desperate for an answer. “Did you see this happen?”
“I must have seen this happen.” Tuesday confessed, shutting her eyes again, trying desperately to recall the events of her dream therapy session. “But for the life of me, I can only remember snippets of it. For some reason, it’s blocked out of my memory. It’s very frustrating.”
“Yes, Jessica and Serina were seeing me.” Doctor Frederiksen explained. “Samuel Thornton referred them to me for counseling because they are bullies, and he had hoped they could work through some of their issues of anxiety. Can you tell me anything else?”
“Serina is safe, that’s all I know.” Tuesday said, wishing she could offer him more than that.
Doctor Frederiksen bowed his head slightly in a moment of thanks and reverence, as a tear fell from his cheek. He looks away from Tuesday but addresses her again. “I will see you next week.” He told her, taking time to process what had just happened. Tuesday walked across the room and gave Doctor Frederiksen a hug, the look in his eyes told her that the pain and sadness will not be easily settled.
Tuesday turned and left the office, making her way back out to the reception area. Upon seeing her mother, she felt sadness and guilt, but could not explain why. She slowly raised her head to look her directly in the eyes. “I’m ready to go home, Mom”
IV
A VISIT FROM A FRIEND
Tuesday sat on the couch in the darkened living room of her home, curled up in a blanket, frustrated, trying to work through the events of her therapy session in her mind. She kept going over the details again and again, hoping to make some sense out of the fragmented images that would come to her. It all seemed so dark and frightening, but the maddening thing was that she couldn’t put those pieces together into any semblance of order. She hadn’t told her mother about Jessica’s death, but she suspected that Megan and everybody else would know about it soon enough. Tuesday kept taking the pictures she could remember, and attempted to place them in a different order so she could glean some sort of information from them. But no matter how hard she tried, it was not to be. She gave it one more attempt, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Tuesday was reluctant to go to the door and answer it, but the knocking persisted and so she got up from the couch sauntered across the room, pulling the door over. It was Jason Alkali. If there was ever a time that she was happy to see Jason, it was at that very moment.
“Jason!” Tuesday squealed with delight, her mood instantly changing from its previously gloomy state to bright and sunny.
“Hi-ya Tuesday!” Jason replied, his voice full of his usual enthusiasm. “Whatcha been up to lately?” Before answering him, she stepped aside and showed him into the living room where the two sat on the couch near, but not too near one another in case Megan was lurking around hoping to catch them in another embarrassing moment.
“Oh, you know. Therapy. Stuff.” Tuesday responded, her voice trailing off a little bit, looking at the floor a little shyly. “The same old freaky agenda.”
“I’ve missed you.” Jason admitted, commanding her attention. The butterflies in her stomach took full flight as he said the words. It was nice to be missed, and she couldn’t recall anybody ever having missed her before. “I thought I should come by and see how my best friend has been doing.” He continued with a flirtatiousness in his voice that was not missed by Tuesday. It was time to play along.
“Your best friend? Since when?” Tuesday asked with a funny look on her face, clearly playing with him.
“Or girlfriend, if you prefer?” Jason said, smirking. He certainly knew how to up the ante when the situation called for it. Tuesday was beginning to think that making her blush was his new full-time job.
“Girlfriend?” Tuesday managed to ask, before grabbing the blanket from the couch to hide her face behind. She knew that she really liked Jason. And knew that she wanted much more with him than just a friendship. The date the two of them went on was just about as perfect of a moment as she had ever experienced in her entire life, and she wanted to get to know him on a deeper level, so she could build on having many more days with her. But was this his way of asking her out? If it was, she thought it was completely adorable. She had hoped he wasn’t just playing, because having a boyfriend who liked her and understood her was one of the things that her heart desired above all else. Not an hour went by that she didn’t think about that date, about how they had almost kissed, if her mother hadn’t been so nosy. She had made a promise to herself to earn that kiss before the year ended.
Apparently, Jason was somewhat embarrassed by her asking for clarification and tried his best to change the subject. “Okay, okay.” He stammered, thinking of the best way to say what he came to say. “The truth is, I miss you. I miss you a lot. You’re the only one around here who isn’t completely self-absorbed.”
An awkward pause was shared between them, enough to allow Tuesday to peek out from behind the blanket she had placed over her head. It took a few seconds, but Tuesday summoned up the courage to make eye contact with Jason again, as he continued talking.
“And because, you know, I really do like you more than a friend.” Jason said, faltering somewhat with his usually perfect speech. “I really do.”
Tuesday felt the embarrassment returning, but refused to look away. Was this it? Was this the moment she had been waiting for? Was she about to become some
thing that she had only dreamt about? She truly did desire this, and now that it appeared to be happening, her doubts began to creep into her mind. Was that normal?
“So, let me get this straight?” Tuesday asked bashfully, the redness factor of her face increasing exponentially. “You came over here to ask me out, right?” She didn’t know any other way other than being direct about it, because if this was about to happen, she wanted to live in that moment.
Jason thought about what Tuesday just said, and in a split second, his confidence returned to him, and he blurted out, “Well, okay. I guess, if you insist.” His eyes were locked onto hers, with a glint that outshined the sun.
Tuesday was ready to scream for joy inside her mind, but she needed to lay the details of this arrangement out for him, so there would be no mistake about what he was getting himself into. Jason needed to know that she was damaged and that was what he would be taking on if he chose a relationship with her.
“You know, I don’t even really know you that well.” Tuesday began, trying to pull the right words out of the air as not to destroy this moment completely. “And I have all these problems. . .”
“Yeah, and?” Jason interrupted, demonstrating that her problems would not be an issue with him.
“And we don’t really know each other that well.” Tuesday continued, desperate to say the things she needed to say, but Jason wouldn’t stop interrupting.
“You said that already.” Jason countered, realizing that she was stalling to give him a response.
“The thing is.” Tuesday said, raising the volume of her voice just a little bit so she could get over his continued interruptions. “The thing is, that nobody has ever liked me well enough to be my friend until you came along.”
“Yeah, and?” Jason went off again, trying to get her to stop overthinking the process and to listen with her heart.
Tuesday stopped what she was saying for a moment and pondered over her thought, looked him in his eyes, and made a powerful connection. And suddenly it hit her. She knew that she would never complete and total happiness in the other areas of her life, so why shouldn't she have it in this facet of her life? Jason was somebody who came along and seemed to care for her unconditionally, and accepts her for who she is. He seemed as if he was attracted to her, and she knew that she certainly was attracted to him, so what was the hang up? Jason could look past all the freakiness straight into her heart and be a companion who would support both her good days and her bad ones. And Tuesday knew that there was the part of her that longed for male companionship, to have somebody to hold hands with at school, and just for once maybe other people would be jealous of her for once. She could tell other people that she had a boyfriend. Without thinking about it, she extended her arms forward and grabbed his hands with hers.
“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” Tuesday told Jason, unafraid of the words that were coming out of her mouth. The two of them smiled as they looked at one another, and then embraced in a long hug. When the two of them parted, she turned and laid back against him, allowing him to put his arms around her as they sat together on the sofa. The whole sensation felt completely new to Tuesday, and she wasn’t certain what to do now that they were a couple, as she had no experience in matters of the heart. So she did what she instinctively knew to do, and continued talking.
“I’ve been seeing this therapist.’ Tuesday began, trying to decide the least strange way of explaining her progress. “He’s the one who got me back into school. He’s teaching me how to get this thing under control so I won’t be so freaky.”
“I don’t think you’re freaky at all.” Jason told her in a compassionate tone. “I’ve never thought that.”
Tuesday found herself blushing again. Jason seemed to have that effect on her, the ability to change the color of her skin upon speaking to her. “You haven’t known me that long.” Tuesday shot back, giggling a little bit. She liked to remind him of this, because it was completely beyond any sense of reason to her how the two of them had not known each other very long, but had grown so close. Was this how relationships worked? One day people are strangers, and the next day they’re infatuated with each another? She had to assume that this was how it worked for everyone, being that this was her first experience with it. She hadn’t even gotten the opportunity to view love through her mother’s interactions with men, because she clearly wasn’t in love with them, though she might have enjoyed some of their company more than others. But she was decidedly not the best role model to base a relationship off. She had no other friends to see their interactions with their boyfriend, and didn’t spend much time observing others, only what she saw in her dreams. Her focus snapped from her thoughts back on Jason as he tried to explain what he meant.
“No, I haven’t.” Jason explained, trying to find the most delicate way to express what he was trying to say. “I don’t judge you by your problems. I judge you by who you are and what you do.”
The creature of doubt creeped back into Tuesday’s mind as her curiosity had gotten the better of her. “You don’t just feel sorry for me, do you?” She asked, hoping that this wasn’t the case.
“Well no, of course not.” Jason replied, much to Tuesday’s relief. “And yes, a little bit.” Tuesday wondered if Jason could be any vaguer than this.
“What do you mean?” Tuesday shot back, hoping not to have this conversation, particularly on a day as wonderful as that one had been.
“I mean, it’s hard not to feel sorry for somebody who suffers as much as you do.” Jason stated, trying to get his point across as gently as he could, tiptoeing around the question. “But I don’t feel sorry for you in the way that you think.”
Tuesday was a little irked by Jason’s statement, and pulled away from him. Was everything he had felt for he based on pity, because he had felt sorry for her? She felt herself in a vulnerable position, as if the next words he would say could make or break everything. In her frustration, she lashed out at him. “Pity is pity regardless of what form it takes.” Tuesday pointed out to him, trying to make the meaning of her words plain so they could not be misunderstood. “I don’t need pity, I need understanding. Don’t you get it?”
Jason knew that he had crossed a line, but he wanted to be completely honest with her, regardless of how it made her feel at that moment, and immediately defended his point of view. “I want to understand, I really do.” He told her, trying to keep his impatience in check. “I don’t want to treat you like other people do. I like you, I really, truly do, and the last thing I want to do is screw things up with you.”
Tuesday looked in Jason’s eyes and saw the tears welling up, indicating that there was truth in his words. She felt embarrassment that she hadn’t simply trusted him instead of questioning his motives. “I’m sorry.” She managed to say, placing a hand on the side of his face. “I should have just trusted you, but I don’t know how to react when somebody gets close to me like this. I’ve been alone for so long that I don’t know how to trust easily. But I promise, you are making that process much easier.”
Realizing that she might have said too much, Tuesday stops speaking and turns herself back around and leans up against him again, his arms move back around her as she feels the warmth of his body overtake her.
“You know.” Jason said, softening his tone. “Everything is going to be alright.”
“I believe you.” Tuesday replied with a sigh. “For the first time, I finally trust somebody who isn’t a therapist, or who isn’t my mother.”
The pair of them sat on the couch for the next hour, holding one another and enjoying each other’s company.
Tuesday turned on the television for her and Jason to watch. The news was on, the top story was about the daughter of a local business owner who had been murdered by a gunman whose clear motive was to rob the house and didn’t expect the teenagers to be home, and tried to kill them both. When he couldn’t kill the other, he had apparently turned t
he gun on himself. Jason was shocked when he saw the story on television. Tuesday sat there, with Jason still holding her and wept inconsolably. Jason did his best to comfort her, and his presence alone was comfort enough. But Tuesday’s thoughts returned to the events of the session that afternoon, trying to piece the puzzle together now that she had new information.
Looking at the time, Jason decided that he needed to get home. The two stood up from the couch, with Tuesday still a little weepy.
“I know Jessica wasn’t your friend.” Jason said in the most somber and respectful way he could. “But I’m sorry that this happened to her.”
“I am too.” Tuesday confessed, as Jason wiped a tear from her eye. The two of them embraced and said goodnight to each other. Jason walked out the door and disappeared into the darkness.
Tuesday’s mind was swirling in a vortex of conflicting emotions, and she wondered if she would ever get it all sorted out. In the end, she decided that a good night’s sleep would be the best thing for her. She gently closed the door and made her way up to her room, thinking about the events of the evening.
