Sunflower

“Can I give you some drugs?”

“What?”

She sighs. “Not actual drugs. Prescription drugs.”

The corners of my lips turn into a faint smile. “I’m not allowed them.”

“You’re in my presence, it’s okay.”

“Why do you want to give me drugs?”

“Because I want to know something.”

“Like what?”

“What happened on April 28th.”

I pause. “You can find out stuff like that?”

“If you’re in a certain state of mind, yes. Your mind can retrieve the memories that you think are locked up and the truth can come spilling out.”

“But I don’t remember what happened that night.”

“I think you do, and I also think you’ve repressed the memories.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re scared.”

“Of?”

“What you might remember.”

Another pause. “Is Colin okay with this?”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever mentioned Colin in our sessions.”

“He is my brother.”

“Yet you’ve never mentioned him before.”

“I’m not sure why I’m starting now, to be honest.”

“Maybe it’s because you trust me?”

I crack a smile, the first smile that doesn’t seem forced or pushed to make it believable to others. “Bullshit.”

“What did I say about swearing?”

“What did I say about not giving a fuck?”

She cracks a smile. “Touché.”

A silence rises up between us, and I realise it’s because she’s waiting for my decision on whether to give me some chill pills or not.

“Okay.”

“You’ll let me give you drugs?”

“If it helps.”

“It will help.”

“Then I’m all yours, doc.”

She makes me sign a form saying that I’ve given her permission to drug me. After that, she makes me lie down on the couch while she takes out a needle and pushes it into my arm. I’m not scared of the pain, or what will happen to me. In fact, I’m almost looking forward to it. I’ve been sober for five months too many.

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice is soft.

“Sunflowers,” I answer randomly. “I’m in a field full of sunflowers.”

“Are you alone?”

“No. My parents are here too.”

“And Colin?”

“Colin is with me everywhere I go.”

I begin to feel the drug taking over my system, relaxing my muscles, loosening my grip on reality, becoming in touch with my inner senses.

“Jess?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me what happened six months ago?”

“A lot of things happened six months ago.”

“Even high, you’re still frustrating.” She mutters. “Okay, can you tell me what happened on April 28th?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me the story, please.”

My body doesn’t let me keep the story in. It’s as though I have no choice but to let it out. The psych was right, I think dreamily to myself. The memories are there, just repressed.

“I went to a party with drugs and alcohol. The parentals were out and all of us had brought our own prescription drugs for us to mix in a bowl. We call it our special trail mix. My friend Adam gave me some special ones that I’d been wanting for ages. I took one and so did he. Then we smoked some hash another friend gave us. I don’t remember her name though.”

“Then what happened?”

“Then I danced with some people. I was in my own bubble, just doing my own thing. Adam put his hands around me and I let him. I like Adam. He’s a nice guy. And then Andrea showed up.”

“Who’s Andrea?”

“My mum’s best friend. She was high that night too. She’d been taking some stuff from our trail mix all night.”

“Does she steal from your mix often?”

“Sometimes. I’m never sure if she’s there or not since I’m high and my memories are usually hazy the next morning.”

“What happened next?”

“She saw me dancing and wanted me to dance with her. Her eyes were red, and she told me she felt loose and crazy and wanted to do something wild. So I joined her. Because I felt like that too. So we left the party and ended up at my house.”

“What did you do at your house?” Her words are soft, so soft I can barely hear them.

“I asked her what we were doing at home and she said she wanted to see something cool. So she pulled out a lighter she had in her pocket. I asked her what she was going to do with it. She told me to close my eyes so I did. She then walked away but I peeked through my hands to see what she was doing. And before I could stop her, my house was on fire.

‘I tried to run away but she told me to stay. I don’t know why I stayed. I could hear screams so I went to the door to stop the screaming. But before I could the door was on fire too and it was too hot so I just stayed back. My mind was in a daze. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Where did Andrea go?”

“She threw me something. It was the lighter. She told me to hold on to it. I didn’t know why. Then she ran away. I didn’t see her after that.”

“When did the fire brigade turn up?”

“Soon after. Maybe four or five minutes. They took the hose and sprayed it all over the house, but by then it was too late. My parents were in there. They were dead. Then the police came and saw me with the lighter. I tried to tell them it wasn’t me but they didn’t believe me because I was high and had taken lots of stuff that night. Then I was sent to the police station and Colin had to come pick me up. When I sobered up I tried to tell him it wasn’t me but he didn’t believe me. He couldn’t even look at me in the eyes. He told me later that Andrea committed suicide.”

“Have you tried to commit suicide?”

I push up my sleeves and show her the multiple cuts on my skin, not to mention the needle jabs where I’ve inserted doses of more drugs than I can count. “Yes.”

“When was the last time you tried to?”

“I don’t know. I lose track after the first five times.”

“Thank-you Jess, that will be enough.” She makes me sit up and gives me a cup of water to drink with something bubbly in it. I take a sip and it jolts me right back to reality. It’s like a pill that makes me feel sober again. Except without a headache.

“How do you feel?”

“Sober.”

“I meant emotionally.”

I pause. “Free.”