The Final Girl

“The 15th year of your family’s death is coming up.” My therapist, Dr Abbott, states near the end of my session. “Have you talked to anyone about it? Other than me.”

“I can’t bring myself to talk about it.” I sigh, playing with my rings on my right hand. “I finally have friends I care deeply about. I don’t want them to feel sorry for me or look at me any differently. It’s hard for me to trust people with my tragic origin story. The last person I trusted sold my story in order to make a quick buck.”

“Do you think your current friends would do that?”

‘No.” I quickly reply. “They’re good people. But I also thought he was a good person too. And now my tragedy is being immortalized as a cheesy indie slasher flick. That flopped by the way.”

“You’ve mentioned previously that your current boyfriend is a horror movie fiend. Do you think he’s seen the movie?”

“If Spencer has seen Terror on Oak Hill he’s never mentioned it.” I state. “And I believe he's seen most of the slasher flicks out there.” I chuckle at that statement. “I’m kinda glad it flopped. I would hate to see my life be turned into a slasher movie franchise like Scream. Which I didn’t even realize was inspired by true events until recently. Apparently the writer got inspiration after he read an article about the Gainesville Ripper.”

“And you don’t want your tragedy to become the inspiration for a horror movie? A well written movie, I should say.”

“As much as I love Scream and other slasher movies, I don’t want my true tragedies to be on the big screen. I don’t want some potential killer to see my life and get inspiration for their crime spree.”

“But you could also become an inspiration to women everywhere.” My therapist counters. “Ever thought about that, Ophelia?”

“What could I inspire?” I snap at her. “I watched my family get fucking slaughtered. I watched my boyfriend get his throat sliced open and watched him fall lifeless on the floor in front of me. I could do nothing but play fucking possum. Yes, I grabbed my father’s shotgun and managed to get at least one lucky shot in, paralyzing the twisted man in a mask long enough for me to make a break for it. That’s not inspirational. That’s dumb luck.”

“But you’ve managed to turn your life around.” She adds. “You managed to not allow your trauma get the better of you.”

“I ran away from my life in Michigan. I ran away every time I got close to someone. I’ve been going to therapy for nightmares for over ten years and those nightmares are only getting worse. I keep walls up so I don’t get close to people and people don’t get close to me. I’m afraid all the time but mask it under false bravado. Tell me what part of this could be considered inspirational?”

“Ophelia, you could have ended it all.” She sighs. “You could have taken the easy way out. But you fought and fought hard. You’ve made tremendous strides since coming to me. That’s inspirational. And as for everything else, it’ll fall into place when the time is right.”

“And when will the time be right?”

“The moment you let your guard down and actually let your current friends in. And please, let them in. Let Spencer in at least. You love him and you know he deserves to know the truth.”

“I hate when you’re right.” I mutter, earning a victorious smirk from Dr. Abbott.

“I know you do.” She chuckles before looking at her watch. “Time is up. You did good today. Pick this up next week?”

“See you next week.” I smile before gathering my bags and getting up to leave her office. Deep down, I know she’s right. I do need to allow Spencer in. He deserves to know what he’s getting himself into.

**

“So how was therapy today?” Spencer asks as we are preparing dinner. Yes, he knows I go to therapy. He is just under the assumption that it’s for anxiety and depression. He doesn’t know the true reason.

“Good, Dr. Abbott really put light on a situation that I need to deal with and gave great advice.” I reply, not looking up from the boiling pasta in front of me. “And for once, I might actually take her advice.”

“That’s great.” He states. “Oh so for movie night, do you have any idea what movie you want to watch first? Because I think I found a cheesy slasher flick. A fan sent me the title and I’m surprised I never heard of it. Apparently it’s based in the town of Hell, MI.” I feel my blood freeze in my veins and I feel my muscles tighten. “It’s based on a true story too. It’s called…”

“Terror on Oak Hill.” I reply with barely a whisper. I can feel Spencer’s eyes on me.

“You know the movie?”

“You can say that.” I let out a humorless chuckle. “Do you really want to watch a movie about a helpless girl watching her family and boyfriend get slaughtered and hung up by meat hooks? Oh and said girl gets lucky and manages to paralyze the sick fuck that is terrorizing her family for no apparent reason.” I feel Spencer’s hand on my shoulders, urging me to turn around and look at him. He looks concerned.

“You okay?” He asks. “This movie seems to be bringing up a bad memory or something. We don’t have to watch it, if you don’t want to. It was just a movie a fan suggested.”

I sigh before wrapping my arms around Spencer’s waist, pulling myself closer to him. “An ex loved this movie a lot and it just brings back bad memories.” I quickly lie. “I’m sorry for kinda going psycho for a bit.”

He places a kiss on my lips and a kiss on my forehead. “If you ever want to talk about your past, I’m here for you. I love you, O. Truly love you.”

“I love you too.” I smile. “Trust me, I want to talk about my past with you. But the last guy I told things to, he betrayed my trust in the worst way possible. And that’s not something that can be easily forgiven and forgotten.”

“When the time is right, you’ll open up.” He states, being oddly optimistic. “I just know it.”

Yea but when will it ever be the right time?