"Doc?" My voice reverberates through the room, bouncing off the empty walls. No, not the ones I've built within me, but the man-made one around me.
"Hey, where are you?" I swing my legs from the bed, standing slowly so I can adjust to the movement. I stretch, chuckling as my body cracks and pops like an old house.
I stumble through the apartment to find Doc lying on the couch. The sun beams through the window, making her red hair glisten. She's my best friend, I'd be lost without her.
"There you are," I drop into the seat next to her, running my hand up her back. "did I disturb you?"
Her eyes widen as she crawls over my leg, snuggling on my lap. I rub her back again as she falls into my chest, warming me after my dream. It's always one of two, and Doc doesn't like either of them.
"How about I fix us some breakfast?" I grin when she jumps up, wagging her tail. "That's my good girl."
I stand, plodding over to the fridge to grab her a treat. Doc is a Fox Red Golden Retriever, I got her after I came home. She's my service dog and my best friend.
She has a plethora of bandannas, in fact, she has enough for a distinct style and color every day for a month. Which ranges in everything from an American flag to a plaid. She's the prettiest girl I've ever met and not because she's saved me from some deep shit either.
"Let's check out how far we've gotten with this one." I point to the table, ambling over as she follows me.
I stare down at the puzzle laid out across the top. We never have company, so it made sense for me to spread the pieces out here. Just another coping mechanism I use but never finish.
"Hmm, we have two left." I glance at Doc as I slide one piece into place. "We'll have to go shopping for another later."
My doctor, the human one, says the day I finish one, I'll be ready for the next steps of my life. He doesn't have a clue what the hell he's talking about. I don't want to move on with my life. I'm perfectly content living with the one I have now.
"We need to box this up and head out to work." I smile at Doc as she waits patiently by my side. Once I break the puzzle up, I toss the pieces in the box and securing the lid.
I slide the container off the surface, walking over to leave by the door. Doc follows my every move; she even lies on the bathroom floor while I shower. I dry quickly and grab some clothes.
Doc sits up when I start brushing my teeth. She senses when I'm close to leaving. I side-eye her when I take my comb out, running it through my hair - her body lilts with disappointment.
"BAM! Two seconds." I toss the comb on the counter, and she jumps up. "Alright, let's hit the road."
I grab the puzzle on the way out with Doc by my side. Once we reach the truck, I open the back up for her to climb into the backseat. She's been my lifesaver for the past two years.
After they released me from the hospital, I got a job at Veterans Affairs in Virginia Beach. I work as a liaison for them and the rehabilitation center for vets. I love working there, even though I had a tough time at first.
Twenty minutes later, Doc and I are walking toward my therapist's office when I run into Liam. "Hey, what's up?"
"Visiting Aaron." He motions toward the open room ahead of us. "What're you doing?"
"Shrink." I half shrug, not wanting to say more.
He stops in the hall across from Aaron's. "Alright, hit me up later, and we'll see if we can get into something."
"We need to throw a few back soon, I hear Lee wants to see me." I hold my fist up.
"Sounds good, but you have to stay away from my lady." He bumps my fist and heads in the room. I glance around him to look at Aaron, I'm not sure how Liam visits with him after all the things he's done. I suppose redemption isn't hard to find with people that love you.
"Let's get to movin' girl." Turning my attention back to my appointment, I pat Doc and start toward his office. I pause at the entrance when my nerves get the best of me, I still hate this.
As I turn the handle, Doc pushes through the door. She, on the other hand, loves it here. The therapist spoils her rotten, totally against the rules, but who listens to me, anyway.
"He's waiting, you can go on in." The receptionist smiles as she tucks her blonde locks behind her ear.
"Thanks." I wave, passing by her without another thought and pause long enough to tap on the frame before entering.
"Come on in!" A voice calls from the other side, so we open the door and make our way in. He's sitting at his desk, typing on his phone with a grin. "Just one second, I'm on with my girl."
I hold my hand up to stop him. "I don't want to hear!"
"I think you might enjoy having someone, but that's a personal decision, I suppose." He chuckles.
"I'm making sound and informed choices," I argue.
He raises his brows. "Okay."
When I met Drew Hamilton, I was utterly against any type of therapy. I convinced myself everything was perfectly fine, and I refused to meet with him. So, he came to me.
Now, he's one of my closest friends but have no doubt, he keeps it real, and I stay honest. I've never found sharing your deepest thoughts and darkest moments with anyone comfortable, but Drew finds a way.
"You're early." He quips, sliding his phone into his desk.
"Are you kidding me? You've been on my ass for close to two years to be on time, and when I am, you're gonna complain?" I stroke Doc's back, helping her to relax. Fine, I'm the one that needs help to settle my nerves.
He taps his pen off the file in front of him. "Are you going to tell me what's on your mind, or should I start the fifty questions?"
"When did we decide this type of therapy was the right one for me?" I loathe he can read me so well, I'm ready to bolt rather than discuss this like I thought I could.
He pushes back from his desk, mulling his words over as he studies me. Drew is continuously studying me, completely unnerving at times. "Right around the time I met you and realized how hardheaded you are."
"Point taken." I rub my finger into my temple. My headaches come and go now, usually when I'm stressed.
He picks his pen up, making a note in my file. "Seriously? Are you going to make me analyze you, or are you going to tell me what you decided?"
"I've thought long and hard, and I can't find a way around, I can't go." I lean forward, resting my elbows on my legs.
Drew's pen falls to the desk. "You're avoiding them, and that's not right."
"The dreams are back." His eyes snap to mine, and I immediately turn my attention to Doc on the floor.
"How often?"
I chew on my lip, avoiding the answer. Besides, all he's going to do is over analyze and ask me how I feel about them. My insight to them is as dark as my memory, they mean nothing because they have no meaning.
But without a doubt, if I don't tell him, he'll never let me rest. It's kinda his job, I suppose. "Hit and miss. I'll have one every other night and then nothing for days. Sometimes both in one night. I wake up drenched in sweat and disoriented. Wash and repeat."
"We discussed when you first came to me, these may frequently happen, much like your migraines. Are you having flashbacks?" Drew pins me down, pushing for more. Although I have to admit he's right, I don't have to like it.