Happy Reading!
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Chapter Two
A precipice, a cliff,
critical decision point,
without a plan, a road map
assurances, guarantee
Needing to go beyond
the edge, steady ground
the common, the known
out onto open space
Believing the possible
within the impossible
That the past doesn’t define
the future, that more
can be done, in faith
that we can grow, achieve
be the church God wants
if we are willing,
to cast off, walk out
with eyes closed
believing without seeing
out into the unknown.
By: Raymond A. Foss
“Better now, Anna?” Zeke’s voice brought her out of her revere and she glanced up to see him beside her.
“Umm, yeah, much better.” Anna picked at her food, not meeting his eyes. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more to go to the appointment and get it over with. It had been hanging over her head like an omen for over a month now. Today was the deciding day. Hopefully it would bring her relief because it was clear by Zeke’s clear, understanding gaze that he knew more of her struggle than he let on.
“Zeke, I’m fine, really,” she emphasized, meeting him square in the eye. His lips plucked up in a half smile before looking away to his plate. Zeke knew she was hiding something. There was a distance to her eyes, a way they glazed over for a second as if her mind was on something else. Was it her parents? Brother? What?
“Hey Anna, how’s Reed?”
She shrugged. “Beats me. He moved out two weeks ago to stay with a friend of his in the cities.”
“Really?” Lana cut in, surprised that this was their first time hearing about it.
Anna gave her a look. “Yeah. He wanted to. Didn’t wanna be under my parent’s supervision anymore.”
Carter smiled knowingly. “Know that feeling. I wish I was graduated already.”
Lana frowned. “Don’t say stuff like that, Carter. We have to enjoy our last year.”
He looked at her tenderly, making Zeke and Anna look away awkwardly. “I am. But don’t say you don’t wanna be out of here as much as I do.”
Lana wavered. “I guess. High school is a complete joke.”
“See! We are in agreement.”
“That’s new. When do you guys agree?” Zeke teased, lightening the mood.
Lana stuck her chin up in defiance, and Carter just shrugged in amusement, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth with a disgusting smack of his lips. Lana didn’t even bother to scold him. She was looking at Anna.
“Anna? You okay?”
Anna jumped, blinking her eyes wide as if waking up from a dream. “Sorry. Daydreaming.”
Lana bit down on her lip, exchanging a glance with Zeke. “Anna?” Zeke laid a hand on her shoulder, and she nearly fell out of her chair at the contact. Zeke quickly took back his hand, startled by the look on her face. She looked almost as if she was in… pain.
“You don’t look so good, hon. Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the nurse or something?” Lana asked, moving closer to Anna, who was a ghostly-pale color, her eyes rimmed in red as if she had been crying.
“Jeeze you guys, I’m fine” Anna snapped. “You all act like I’m gonna have a mental break down or something.”
“Well you kinda did this morning in math,” Carter said, not even noticing how his words caused Anna’s face to go beet red with anger.
“Whatever. I’m gonna go.” She stood up without another word, leaving her tray still untouched on the table.
“Anna! Wait Anna!” Lana called, but her friend was relentless and she soon disappeared in the throng of students.
“Carter, don’t you understand when to just shut up?” Carter stared, oblivious, a blank gaze in his eyes. Lana rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”
Carter smiled, still completely clueless. “But you love me for it, right?” He leaned in for a kiss, but Lana swerved, shooting him an icy glare that sent him reeling back.
Zeke was ignoring their little spat, gazing into his hands, bewildered by Anna’s erratic behavior. There was definitely something going on with her. But why keep it from her friends? It had to be something with her family. Anna usually was pretty quiet when it came to her home life. None of them knew why but they never pressured her. They just assumed that was how she was. Zeke feared the worst—divorce, death in the family, brother causing strain. But if it was that bad, why wasn’t Anna confiding in them?
* * * *
Anna felt bad for ditching them, but their concerned looks were driving her crazy! Didn’t they understand that she hated pity? Hated having them worry over her when there was nothing to worry about? She was fine. Her body was fine. After the appointment, they would all see and laugh about it afterwards.
In her car, she cranked the music, glancing at the clock. It was almost three-thirty and she had yet to get out of the school parking lot. Rolling down her window, letting the fresh autumn air wash over her, she breathed deeply and prayed for patience. She needed it today, more than anything.
The clinic was only fifteen minutes away but she liked to be early. Hopefully the earlier she got there, the earlier she would be set free. Hospitals always set her on edge. They reminded her of dying people and despair. They even smelled of death and sickness. It was enough to make her ill herself.
The sooner she was out, the better.
Her mom met her at the clinic at exactly ten-to and Anna glanced up to meet her.
Mrs. Fisher was a tall woman with a lean build and hair untouched by gray. Crows-feet pinching at her eyes were the only indicator of her increasing age. She carried herself with a certain grace that made others follow her willingly. It was no wonder that she was lead executive to the marketing department at Tim & Riley Company—a medical pharmaceutical distributor. Always punctual, always self-assured, Anna teased her all the time by saying she would be early even for her own funeral.
“So, how was school?” Her mother sat beside her, her pencil shirt hiking up a bit and catching the eye of a male patient waiting across from them. Anna nearly gagged.
“Fine,” she murmured, glad when the guy across from them stopped openly staring at her mom.
Mrs. Fisher sighed but decided not to argue today, especially when Anna was so unstable as it was. It was still hard to believe that her daughter might have a psychological disorder, like depression. Too hard, actually. It was all so asinine, if you asked her.
Anna was a bright, healthy teenager and just because she made a scene in her AP English class didn’t mean there was anything wrong with her. Teenagers had mood swings all the time. It wasn’t like it was a reoccurring event. Mrs. Fisher just had to grin and bare it for Anna’s sake. She knew her high school was overacting and once this was proved they could go back to their normal routines and forget this ever happened.
“Mom, do you think something is really wrong with me?” Anna felt her fear rising as she spoke. It was a like a tightening in her chest, a pain in the very center that made it hard to breathe. She had felt the same way during lunch when she was thinking about the appointment and when Zeke had touched her. It was like she was being suffocated. She hadn’t meant to panic and now she feared Zeke might think she was crazy, making the pain even worse.
“Oh honey, of course not. The school doesn’t know what it’s talking about. You were stressed over a test and got a little angry. It wasn’t like you hurt anyone.”
Anna nodded, but knew it had been more than that. It was like she wasn’t even Anna anymore; like someone else had taken over her body—an angrier, more aggressive Anna. That had scared her more than anything but she was worried that if she told her mom that, she would have her admitted to an asylum before she could explain herself.
So she kept quiet. She knew she was fine. She knew she wasn’t crazy. Crazy people talked to themselves and threw chairs and tried to kill themselves. Anna didn’t do any of those things. Meeting up with Dr. Marshall, the psychiatrist at the facility, would only prove that point further.
As the minutes continued to climb, Anna tried to stay calm. It wouldn’t be long until Dr. Marshall pronounced her perfectly normal and allowed her to continue her life as before. She couldn’t believe that her school was making her go through all these psychoanalyses; it was all so pointless. All of them just sent her to more and more psychologists and they all said the same thing: Anna is normal. Why couldn’t her school just accept that and move on?
“Anna, come on. They called your name.”
Her mother yanked her from her thoughts and Anna quickly stood, straightening her tee shirt as she walked. A nurse who only reached Anna’s chin led them to a near-by room and told them to wait, saying that Dr. Marshall would be with them shortly.
Typical, Anna thought. How often have I heard that line? We won’t see him for another half-hour, at the most—
“Anna Fisher?”
She was nearly jolted from her seat, confronted with a guy dressed in navy blue scrubs, Crocks on his feet, a goofy grin firmly in place on his surprisingly young face.
“Yes, this is my daughter Anna,” Mrs. Fisher quickly cut in when her daughter didn’t reply.
Dr. Marshall nodded, taking a seat across from them. “So, Anna—“ he paused, flipping through her paperwork, “—you’ve seen now almost three psychologists, now?”
Anna confirmed this, finally finding her voice. She was still slightly put off by his young face and clear enthusiasm for his work. The other doctors she had seen had been strictly professional, laugh lines absent from their faces.
Dr. Marshall’s face, she noted, had several creasing his brow and mouth, and she realized he was more around her mother’s age, older than at first glance. He was handsome in that All-American boy way with his cropped blond hair and sensible clean-shaven face. She was surprised to discern, however, an earring glinting from his left lobe, but decided to keep it to herself.
“And I see that they all suggest that you might have a slight anxiety disorder?”
Anna froze and she felt her mother jump slightly in clear shock.
“Excuse me?”
Dr. Marshall couldn’t ignore the icy hint in Mrs. Fisher’s voice and blinked several times, now befuddled. “Haven’t they told you this?”
Mrs. Fisher shook her head, taking a hold of her daughter’s hand and squeezing it tight. “We weren’t told anything.”
Dr. Marshall frowned slightly, brow wrinkled. “Well, it says here that you weren’t sent to me to discuss treatment options.”
Anna stopped listening to the conversation after that. She now felt like she was free falling, confused beyond belief, kind of like baby listening to others talk to them and not knowing the English language. She really didn’t know what was going on.
Anxiety disorder? Treatment options?
It was like she had been plunged into an alien world without knowing how to speak. The pain in her chest was mounting and she nearly stopped breathing altogether. How could this be happening? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was perfectly normal!
And yet, Anna knew deep down that there was something wrong; something terribly, horribly wrong with her. But she wouldn’t admit it. It wasn’t like she couldn’t control her… other half, if she dare call it that.
“Anna, dear, Dr. Marshall asked you a question.” Mrs. Fisher’s face slowly came into view as Anna refocused on the world around her.
“Umm, sorry, what?”
“I was just telling your mother that if it would make you feel better about all this, I can evaluate you myself and then give the final verdict.” Dr. Marshall smiled warmly, and Anna looked away, petting her mother’s own strained grin.
She knew she should. She knew it would make her mother happy if she did. But she also knew that Dr. Marshall might find more wrong with her than what the others did. He might actually find that she is crazy.
And she couldn’t have that.
“No, no thank-you Dr. Marshall. I trust the other doctors. It’s time we talk medication.”
