Nephilim: Children of Angels

3: Memory Assault

Warning: Sexual Assault, gaslighting. I Would love to know your thoughts as you read <3

The sun burns my retina, followed by the blurry unfamiliar beige room. The foreign sound of someone snoring has me nearly jumping out of my skin as I bolt upright in the twin bed. Kali lays in the bed beside me, a dark curly halo framing her lovely, slender face as she lets loose an ungodly sound.

I stare at the beige wall as yesterday comes back to me. As the memory of the last month tortures me. I tried to make amend after I ran away and got high. After I fixed the bathroom door dad broke down when I didn't answer and made him lunch and explained as best I could to Cameron, they forgave me. But I hurt them again because that's what I do.

I swallow the memory that tries to surface, untwisting the oversized pastel clown pajamas Janine had me put on upon my arrival, from my body and slip on the white canvas shoes. As quiet as a mouse I tiptoe toward the door, set on this being the last morning I endure.

"You're awake," Janine greets as I creak open the door.

"Morning," I answer in a high pitch voice, trying to hide my disappointment at her presence.

"Come along. Dr. Hemsworth is waiting to speak with you." She waves for me to follow, leading me to the door she showed me during the tour yesterday. Dr. Hemsworth's office.

Not the actor Hemsworth, not a man, a woman. A tall slender statuesque woman. She is wearing a pencil skirt and blue blouse. Her nails are perfectly manicured, and her makeup is impeccable. All- in- all, she is an intimidating figure with my medium stature, mouse-ish looks and baggy pastel jammies. She smiles at me, but it doesn't seem to reach her dark penetrating eyes.

"Hello, Sara. I'm Dr. Hemsworth. I'm the psychiatrist here at The Center." She greets, sticking out her hand for me to shake.

"Hi." I reply, taking her hand and giving it a small jerk before sitting nervously on the edge of the blue polyester office chair she gestures toward.

"How are you this morning?" she asks, taking a seat across from me, crossing her long smooth perfect cocoa legs.

"I'm alright. You?" I respond, looking around the room. Its sparse, just a desk, bookshelf brimming with psychology texts and degrees hanging on the walls, along with the chairs we occupy.

"I'm good. Thank you. How are you adjusting here? I know the first day can be overwhelming."

I can tell she's trying to sound genuinely concerned, but she is not as good at it as the psychiatrist from the hospital. The one that had convinced me to come here. Probably hurt my dad less if I die in someone else's care, plus the guy said it's free.

"Fine. I guess." I reply, glancing at her then at the shelf.

"Good. Janine told me you had some trouble at group yesterday?" She says like a question.

I look up at her now strained smile, noticing she's studying my every move.

"I..I guess."

She just keeps staring at me, so I continue. "Honestly, I don't understand what happened yesterday. It makes no sense." I huff, looking down at my hands, feeling frustrated.

"I understand you have been having a lot of events like this recently." She states again like a question.

I force myself to look at her again. She's not smiling anymore. She looks more inquisitive.

Everyone keeps asking, but I have no answer. Shouldn't she have the answer? Isn't that why she has all these fancy degrees, why she is wearing a pencil skirt and blouse and I'm wearing these clown clothes? I feel myself getting emotional again. Angry. I try and squelch it by digging my nails into my palm.