Unravel

30—BREAKING

“We can stop there for today.”

I look at Dr. Rutledge. My pulse hammers against my skin. My voice is starting to shake as I further explain my story.

Instead of asking me questions, Dr. Rutledge doesn’t say a thing. She sits back in her chair, her pen tapping against her notebook.

She sits up straight and laces her fingers together. “You know what I think?”

“What?” I ask wearily.

“I think you should take a weekend pass.”

“A weekend pass,” I repeat.

“I know these sessions have been wearing you down, but you’re making significant improvement. I think a weekend pass would be beneficial for you.”

When Lachlan first mentioned the idea of a weekend pass, I didn’t store too much faith in the idea. And when I broke down in group therapy, I thought my chances of ever having my freedom had disintegrated into thin air. But, here I am, given a chance to have my freedom. Even if it does have an expiration date.

I stare at her skeptically. It feels like there’s a catch that comes along with this opportunity.

“Would you like that?”

I nod. “Y-yes!” I stutter.

“If you don’t think you’re ready for it, you don’t have to take it.”

“I am,” I say quickly. “I am. I’m just skeptical.”

“There’s nothing to be skeptical about. Everyone needs a break.” She shrugs. “This is your break.”

I exhale loudly. “I’ll do it.”

“Great!” she says triumphantly as she stands up. “Mary will help you pack your bag tomorrow and you can be on your way.”

One small, but very important factor, finally hit me. “Who’s picking me up?” I ask.

“Lachlan.”

My fears slam into me swiftly. I can picture Dr. Rutledge talking to Lachlan, telling him that I truly am insane and that I will never get out of this place. Even though Dr. Rutledge has proven herself to me, it doesn’t matter when old insecurities never die.

I think she sees the fear in my eyes. She lays a hand on my shoulder and looks at me with concern.

“I’ve spoken to him once,” she says gently. “He spoke to me last week about a weekend pass, and that’s it. You have nothing to worry about.”

I swallow. “Thanks,” I whisper.

“Now,” she grins, “get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day.”