Interactive Story - Never Forgotten, Chapter One

Welcome, the weather is getting warmer. I think we'll be able to sit in the garden today. Fill your plates with goodies and pour your favorite beverage. Once everyone is set, we'll start.

If you are just going us, you can read the first post of the interactive story here... Remember this is a rough draft, and you are asked to answer the question at the end in a comment. Let's get started.

Chapter One

Present day

Georgia Daniels sipped her coffee. The window of New York-Presbyterian/Weill Cornell Medical Center on the Upper East Side provided a panoramic view of Central Park. However, Georgia wasn’t enjoying the view, her mind was running over her next appointment.

She’d gone to Harvard, was one of the nation’s top psychiatrists, specializing in mental trauma. She could say she’d seen a lot, not all, no one could say that. But every once in a while a patient would come to her, and the situation was too close to her own past.

A quick knock startled her only seconds before the physician assistant stepped in. “Your patient is here. A social worker brought her and would like to know if she’s allowed to observe.”

Georgia picked the file up from where it had been on her desk and flipped it open as if she may read the answer on the top page. There wasn’t a word she hadn’t read. She prided herself on being prepared for all of her patients, but this one she’d taken a little extra time.

Georgia knew how hard the next few years, hell the rest of the girl’s life would be, dealing with her demons. Most people imagined danger around every corner. Georgia knew evil hid in the most innocent places. The nicest people were pure evil underneath the façade.

Georgia smiled at the assistant and resisted the urge to raise a brow. Maggie Reynolds, assistant and friend, knew the answer. Maggie left the door open and within a few minutes she returned with a young girl with long red braids. Her eyes darted everywhere, around the room, everywhere but at Georgia.

“This is Sarah Gonzales.”

Then Maggie backed out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Sarah settled herself in the chair across the desk.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Daniels, but you can call me Georgia if you’d like.”

Georgia reached across the desk to see if Sarah would shake or not. Of course, it was questionable whether she actually saw the proffered hand, she had yet to look at Georgia.

After a moment, Georgia let her hand drop and let her bottom sit in her own seat. She would wait, let the girl set the pace. She told herself to relax, but her heart raced with memories. She swallowed and closed her eyes a moment. Now wasn’t the time to worry about her inner demons. Now was the time to help this little one adjust. Understand there were people in the world she could trust.

And that was the problem. How could Georgia help the girl understand that, when she had trouble trusting anyone herself?

She’d give the girl another moment before she forced her to acknowledge Georgia. If she couldn’t prove to Sarah that she, Georgia, was worth trusting. If she couldn’t do that, then therapy wasn’t worth it.

Georgia hadn’t had the luxury of counseling of any sort, because that would have been telling someone her secrets. That was the worst, because they held her family’s well-being in the palm of their hands. If Georgia tried in any way to find them, tell anyone about them, and that included seeking help for herself, her brother and mother were dead.

Georgia found therapy in studying for her degree and now helping those recovering from trauma as she’d had growing up.

“Ms. Georgia?”

Sarah’s voice bounced around the quiet office, Georgia restrained from jumping from her chair. Barely.

She cleared her throat, but still managed to croak out, “Yes?”

“Are you ever going to start this gig, or therapy thing we’re supposed to be doing?”

Sarah’s focus was just above Georgia’s left shoulder. Even though she’d finally engaged, there would be no eye contact.

“What would you like it to be, Sarah?”

“Why do you guys do that?”

Sarah stood up to wander around for a moment and then settled at the same window Georgia had stood at earlier.

Georgia debated, she could continue with the clichéd answer a question with another question, that psychologist were known for, have a little fun with her to break the ice. Maybe it would ease the tension.

On the other hand, it could backfire and cause the girl to clam up.

Georgia studied the girl’s profile for a moment longer, then made her decision.

Suppressing a smile, she asked, “Why do you think we do it?”

The girl let her forehead bonk on the window and turned around and pointed at Georgia, “That!” Sarah may have pointed at her, but her focal point seemed to be an inch above her head.

Georgia grinned. “Oh you mean, why am I answering all your questions with another question. Doctors try to lead the conversation that way, find out what’s in your mind.” She wiggled her brow at her.

“I’m with you, it’s frustrating.” Georgia motioned for her to take her seat. “Let’s start over. This is called a therapy session. The goal is for you to feel comfortable enough with me that you can tell me your fears, your secrets, and once they’re behind you and no longer bothering you, you can tell me your dreams and I can help you get started in the right direction.”

Sarah slowly walked to the chair and sat in it, but she didn’t glance up at Georgia. She stared at something in her lap.

“Do I have to tell you everything?”

“No. you don’t have to tell me anything. I have been told by several people I talk a lot. I could always bore you with stories of how boring my life is.”

Georgia wasn’t sure what she heard, but it sounded like a cross between a snort and a laugh. Maybe that was a small victory? With hour increments a couple of times a week, progress could be slow.

Georgia was patient.

“Do you mind if I ask a few questions?”

This time Sarah looked up, it was interesting to see the lengths she would go to not to make eye contact. “Do I have to answer?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Okay, but I reserve the right to not answer.”

Georgia wanted to grin, where had the girl heard that before? No doubt on a television program.

“That sounds reasonable.”

Georgia made a production out of opening the drawer and pulling out a pad and paper. The longer it gave the girl to relax, the more chance at trust. She’d start with things she knew from the file.

“How old are you Sarah?”

The look Sarah gave her, clearly said are you kidding? “Ten.”

“I wanted to know if the file was current.”

The girl pursed her lips, clearing wondering if she was being played.

“Where are you from?”

“Cleveland. But that was probably in the file also.” The girl shifted in her seat and lifted her head and for a moment Georgia thought she’d look at her. But her gaze was slightly to the right. “Why don’t you cut the bull shit?”

No matter how bad the history in the file depicted, Georgia was always caught off guard by the language. Why was that? Because the monsters she was raised by were cultured?

“No bullshit coming up.”

“Thanks.” This time Sarah actually grinned.

Georgia picked up the manila folder from her desk. “Can you tell me what’s not in this file?”

Here is the interactive part of the post. Tell me who are the girls demons?

1. Her parents?
2. Neighborhood gang/bullies?
3. A relative?

Next post:

Voting CLOSED. Remember if you do not answer the questions, then I get to decide. Comment on the blog. Y


stanalei said…
1. Her parents.

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