A Flaw So Beautiful Read online

  I needed to talk to her. She can take the edge off, and I might just be able to get through my week. But if group therapy goes the same as last time, I’m screwed.

  But technically, it’s my free time and I could leave my apartment.

  My chest aches and I remain focused on my breathing. I need to answer her soon.

  I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the stack of sticky notes and a pen. I write, Attend Group Therapy, and let it flutter to the floor so I can pick it up.

  I can breathe a little better now.

  “Okay Charity, let her know I’ll be there at one.”

  I focus on my breathing the entire time I walk to Suzanne’s. I remind myself that I’m free. I’m alive. I’ve suffered worse shit than group therapy.

  I’ve improved a lot over the last six years. Obviously, I still have a lot of issues, but it used to be worse. Way worse. Suzanne says she’s proud of me every time I see her, and that does help.

  I arrived on time, and Suzanne opened her door exactly at one for me. I rushed in and tossed myself on her couch. I take my sunglasses off and lay them on the coffee table as soon as she shuts her office door.

  I don’t even let her talk. I only have thirty minutes, so we can’t waste any time.

  “I had a panic attack yesterday; it was an eight. It lasted from noon to like seven o’clock. I freaked out on my brother. He stayed after four. He ate dinner with me then forced me to take a fucking sleeping pill. He messed up my whole day. I showed him the scars on my body and yelled at him and cried. I cried a lot. I’m a mess, Suzanne. I lost control and I couldn’t get it back. I was fighting for it, and I tried so hard to shut everything out and just be okay with it but I couldn’t do it. I gave up. Again. My brother held me until the pill knocked me out.”

  “You survived, again.” I refused to look at her or acknowledge her little sarcastic comment. “Now, what did your brother do to trigger this one?”

  “His name was on the post-it-note. I called him and he said he would be right down. You know I watch for him through the peephole and sure enough, he was there within a few minutes. I undid the first chain and then he left.”

  “He left?” she asked confused.

  “Yes. Walked away and out of my view, but I heard him talking to someone. I put the chain back on and the panic attack instantly hit me.”

  “Who was he talking to?”

  “Lincoln.” I could hear her writing in her notebook. “I guess he had just come home and saw my brother in the hallway and they started talking.” I sat up and looked at her. “I told myself he wasn’t leaving me. I knew he wouldn’t leave me. I tried to stay calm. But I went from being happy and excited to scared and confused. Too many emotions ran through me at the same time, I just couldn’t focus. When he realized what he did, he started pounding on my door asking me to open it. I asked Mike to make Lincoln leave before I opened the door. Besides the fact I didn’t want to see him, he’d know how fucked up I was.”

  “If you don’t want to be his friend, then why does it matter?”

  That was the million-dollar question, and I just stared at her waiting for her to ask the next question.

  “Well then, did you talk to Lincoln when you got home yesterday?”

  I gave her a sarcastic smile. “Yes, Suzanne; I did.”

  She smiled back. “Don’t stop now.”

  “I said hi, he said hi. I asked how his day was and he said, and I quote, “It’s better now, Ashton.”” Suzanne shot me a disappointed look. “I know it wasn’t much but it was good enough, right?”

  “It is and do you know what the best part was?”

  I thought about it but not long because I had no idea. “No.”

  “The panic attack was not because of Lincoln. This is good. Next time you can talk to him longer than a minute.” She sounded so excited.

  I wasn’t though. “The panic attack was because of Lincoln. He made my brother move away from the peephole.”

  “If you want to look at it that way,” she said. She pulled her glasses off and set them on the coffee table before she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Next time, talk to him for five minutes.”

  I shook my head.

  “You’re supposed to say, ‘Yes Suzanne, I will talk to him longer next time. That’s a great idea.’”

  “I don’t know if I can since I’m being forced to attend group therapy.”

  She laughed, “Don’t change the subject, but yes, today you’re going.”

  “You have a way of making me do what you want, so yes, it’s forcing.”

  “We’ll come back to this topic another day.”

  “We never talk about it but you're right, like always, back to my panic attack.”

  “You knew your brother wouldn’t leave you.” I nodded yes. “He was out of your view for what seems like a minute?” I nodded again. “He came right back.”

  “Yes, I know but I still freaked out. This is why I’m here now. I don’t like my brother seeing me like that. He’s been through enough when it comes to me. He worries too much about me as it is and now he’ll just worry more. Worst of all, I showed him my scars again.”

  “He’s already seen them,” she reminded me.

  “I hate showing them to him because he still thinks what happened to me was his fault.”

  “He’s doing better, though.”

  My brother and I had group counseling for about a year, and he’d see Suzanne on his own. He stopped, though, because unlike me, he could move on, kind of.

  I shook my head. “I just want to wake up and be normal. Why can’t I be like other people? I’m so sick of feeling like I’m always drowning. It feels like I’m drowning inside of myself. It’s suffocating. I’m suffocating!”

  “You really are doing a great job, Ashton. I’m sorry you had the panic attack, but I don’t want it to set you back. I don’t want you to feel like you’ve taken a step back because you haven’t. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you’ve grown so much over the last six years. I wish I could make it easy for you but I can’t. You’re the only one who can. I want you to push yourself more. I think we need to start hitting this harder.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “A little dramatic don’t you think, Ashton.” She stood up and smoothed out her clothes.

  Suzanne was tall, skinny, and blonde and sometimes she wore glasses. Other than that, I don’t pay attention to people or the unique details they all have. They all blend into categories, and I can’t see past that. They are short or tall, fat or skinny, and the only other thing I notice is usually their hair color. And I guess glasses. Sometimes those stick out to me.

  My world is boring.

  Bland.

  Dull and lifeless.

  Sometimes the beating of my heart is the only thing that reminds me that I'm alive.

  “I’m scared, Suzanne.”

  I’m always so fucking scared.

  “Anxiety can do that to you.” She paused for a few seconds and continued, “I know you’re scared but did anything bad happen yesterday? Your brother stayed past four. He ate dinner with you and then you fell asleep. Nothing bad happened. Your whole day got screwed up, but here you are, safe. Was it really that bad?” I couldn’t answer. “Besides, I’m sure your brother loved spending that time with you.” She sat down behind her desk and slipped her glasses back on.

  She made some good points, but I was not in control. He was. He told me what to do. He made the decision to stay. He told me to take the pill. He told me he wasn’t leaving. He told me I had no choice. I was not given a choice.

  He should have just asked me.

  “He should have asked me.” I stood up. “Oh My God.”

  “What is it, Ashton?”

  “Mike controlled the situation. He wouldn’t let me choose. He didn’t give me a choice.” My heart started racing and I balled my hands into fists. “He kept telling me what to d
o! He wouldn’t listen to me!” My voice raised on its own. “It wasn’t fair, Suzanne! I allowed it to happen! I didn’t even try to fight back! I didn’t fight him!” Tears streamed down my face and my body fell back down on the couch. My head fell into my hands as I continued to cry.

  Why didn’t I fight back?

  Why had I been so weak?

  I felt Suzanne sit next to me. “Ashton honey, Mike is not him. You can’t compare them to each other.”

  “I know he’s not,” I said, feeling my sadness turn into anger. “But I don’t like people having control over me, Suzanne.”

  “I understand. There are different kinds of control and this was a good one. You weren’t giving up control sweetheart, you were letting him help you. You let him care for you and you didn’t even realize it. He was helping you, Ashton. He cares for you deeply. He’s always done that. You have to see it from his perspective and vice versa.”

  I hated to admit it, but she was right. Of course, my brother cares for me and wants to protect me. He doesn’t understand how I function if you can even call it that. He found nothing wrong with how he handled me because, in his mind, he was taking care of me. He was trying to keep me safe.

  “Communication, Ashton; you need to explain this to your brother. He’ll understand and you can move forward, and next time you might not have a panic attack.” She stood up. “I’m glad you came in today. I won’t make you go to group therapy if you don’t want to. I know how upset you are. Maybe you can try it next week though?”

  I had stopped crying by now. Maybe I could try it, but I wasn’t going to make that decision right now.

  “Thank you, Suzanne, for today.”

  “Of course, dear. Are you more relaxed now? The panic is laying low, like down in your toes.”

  I laughed and grabbed my sunglasses. “Yes, you pulled me back from the edge again.” I put them on and headed to the door. “I’ll see you Monday at eight.”

  “I look forward to it.” I opened the door and stepped out of the room “Be easy on your brother, Ashton!” she called out after me.

  I ran down the steps and rushed outside.

  I know I’ve had this discussion with Suzanne before. It sounds familiar. I’m not sure why it’s taken me six years to finally understand it but I guess I wasn’t ready to actually listen to the meaning behind the words. I wasn’t opening myself up to the possibility that Mike wasn’t trying to control me.

  Why is everything so hard for me to understand?

  I picked up my pace as I walked home. I didn’t want to be outside anymore. The air was thick and heavy today; add that to my thoughts and it was harder for me to breathe. I could not have a panic attack in public. I did not want to have one two days in a row.

  I crossed the street a few blocks away from the apartment building.

  I started picking up the pace until I was jogging but the flip flops were getting in the way, so I stopped and took them off.

  I started running.

  I don’t run, though.

  Why the hell was I running?

  I started to feel something inside of me. Like some kind of change. Life altering. Something that’s important to my recovery. I’m not sure I can handle something this big. I don’t understand it yet to be able to handle it. It feels so sudden; it already feels like it’s happening way too fast!

  I stopped running, desperate to catch my breath and slipped the flip flops on.

  It’s been six years!

  I still feel like I’m chained to that damn bed.

  I’m so tired of feeling trapped.

  It’s been six fucking years since the chain was cut free.

  “Ashton?”

  I jumped, I screamed, and I slammed my body against my door. One hand went to my sunglasses to make sure they had not fallen off. My other hand that held my keys shook.

  I don’t even remember walking into the building.

  “Shit.” I heard him again. I knew that voice so I turned my head to the left. “Ashton, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you.” Lincoln ran his hands through his hair and looked away.

  Say something!

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Hi.”

  He looked up. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” He started walking towards me and my hand went up again. “Please, don’t come any closer.”

  Please come closer. Don’t run away. Not yet.

  He stopped. “I’m sorry I scared you. I was just surprised to see you.” He smiled and leaned his shoulder against the wall where he stopped. “It’s not Monday yet.”

  Thanks for reminding me I’m such a freak! I wanted to scream at him. But it’s not his fault.

  What has my life become? I know he didn’t mean anything by it but it felt like a slap in the face to me. Of course, he would only see me on Mondays. I only leave my apartment two times a week because it’s all I can handle from the outside world.

  I stomped my foot in an effort to control myself. “Um, well.” I managed to unlock my door and dug my fingers into the trim on the door frame to stay still.

  He’s just being nice.

  He won’t hurt me.

  He won’t hurt me.

  He won’t hurt me.

  “I had to do something today that normally I don’t do.” I looked back at him and he dropped his smile and asked, “You’re okay?”

  “Why are you sad?” I blurted out.

  “I’m not sad. I was worried about you.”

  “Why?” Jesus, I can’t stop.

  Is this what normal people do? How long have I been standing here? It feels like I’ve been standing here for hours.

  I looked at my watch and told myself I could be calm, because I was still on my block of free time. I took a deep breath in and out and looked back at Lincoln.

  “Because of yesterday…,” he paused, “um, your brother talked to me. It wasn’t much but I guess I needed to hear it from you that you were in fact, okay.”

  My brother told me he was going to talk to him after I fell asleep. He promised me he wouldn’t tell him about me but would let him know I was okay. I’m not sure what was said but my brother said he liked Lincoln. He said he could eventually see them being friends.

  It was nice to know someone else other than Suzanne and Mike worried about me. He doesn’t know me well enough to care about me, so it must be pity.

  Besides, who would want to be friends with a fucked up freak like me?

  “I don’t want to lie to you, Lincoln. I’m not okay but please don’t worry about me. It’s too much for me to handle.”

  “Okay,” he said softly, “I won’t.”

  But I want you to.

  You told him not to!

  He was listening to you!

  Doing what you asked!

  “Shut up!”

  This was too hard.

  I’m confused.

  I can’t have friends let alone be a friend to someone.

  I can’t be normal.

  I shouldn’t even talk to him.

  I thought I heard him reply to me but I heard another man’s voice distract us.

  “Hey, Jackass! Why you standing in the hallway?”

  Lincoln turned his head to the man and I took that opportunity to slip into my apartment. I locked up, slid the three chains in place, and slid my back down the door.

  I started crying.

  No panic attack.

  Just tears.

  Chapter 5 - Lincoln

  I turned around at Nick’s voice. It was a stupid move. I should have kept my eyes on her, because I turned back around and she was gone.

  I knew she would be.

  My heart felt like it just fell out of my chest. I was disappointed with myself that I lost her attention and pissed off at my best friend.

  She was finally talking to me and I couldn’t help but wonder how long she would have continued if Nick had not interrupted us.
/>   God, he had the worst timing, especially when I wasn’t expecting a visit from him.

  I punched him in the arm before I unlocked my door.

  “What the hell, Linc,” he whined.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled at him while walking through my door.

  “What the hell crawled up your ass now?” I heard the door shut behind him by the time I got to the kitchen. I started grabbing the ingredients for my shake from the fridge and placed them on the island.

  I sighed, “I was talking to her.”

  “Who?”

  “Ashton you idiot!” I was cutting the shit out of the strawberries turning them to mush before they made it into the blender. “Who else would I be talking to?”

  He sat on the stool and continued to watch me destroy the banana that was the next ingredient in my shake. “I didn’t see her. Hell, I’ve never seen her. Is everything okay with you?”

  I paused what I was doing. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and took a chance of looking at me. “I’m just wondering if this chick is real,” he rambled out. He must have seen my jaw twitch and dropped his eyes back to my hand.

  I gripped the knife and reminded myself that it would be considered illegal if I cut him and buried him in the rose bushes that were in the front of our building.

  I pointed the knife at him. “You’re an asshole.” The bananas were done, so they were tossed in the blender. I swung my arm behind me and grabbed the pear I had on the counter. I didn’t need it but I was still getting my frustration out by chopping up fruit. “What are you doing here anyways?” I needed to know what was so important that it ruined my visit with Ashton.

  All I wanted to do was knock on her door. I was curious to see if she would open it. The conversation I had with Mike rushed back to me and I quickly decided it would be too much for her. I don’t want to push her. I wanted her to feel comfortable around me and I knew that would take time.

  I also wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help her. I didn’t know what she needed help with, but I wanted to help. I should talk to her brother again. Maybe he could help me figure something out that wouldn’t push her away from me. He could talk to her, tell her how I feel, and maybe in return, she would be able to talk to me more.