Read Online Ashes by Estevan Vega - Free Book Online Page A

memory lapses are…can be some of the side effects of post-traumatic stress disorder.”
    Â  “What are you talking about? What happened?”
    The doctor appeared bothered by the thought of having to exhume the dark details of the past yet again. But Arson’s eyes begged to know more.
    Carraway eventually replied, “Stephen, your grandmother…”
    â€œIs she okay?” Arson let the blanket keeping him warm slip off his shoulder. He sat up straight at the mention of Grandma .  
    His head was spinning as he watched beads of sweat slip from each lid. Warm and cold and confused. “What?” he struggled to say, feeling the twist of reality return.
    â€œShe’s dead.”
    Arson’s mind splintered just then. “No, she’s not. I just saw her not too long ago. She’s safe, at home.”
    â€œHome? Are you sure?” Carraway questioned. “This isn’t the first time I’ve told you. You can remember that, can’t you?”
    A million voices were screaming inside his head. Arson fought them all, hoping he might decipher something true within the chaos.
    The doctor continued, “It must feel like a blink to you. Time can be like that sometimes. But you haven’t spoken to Kay Parker in months, I’m afraid. Your grandmother…well, as much as it aches me to say this…is gone.”
    â€œNo. Don’t lie to me. You’re sick,” Arson said, finally starting to recognize the air in his lungs and that chill clawing up the back of his neck. His senses returned, but his mind was still a maze.
    â€œI know it’s painful to grasp. I understand your anger, your fear. You have endured immeasurable trauma and stress. But you’re all right now, and believe it or not, I think you’re getting better. There will be healing soon.” The doctor reached out to touch him.
    Â  “Leave me alone,” Arson said, shoving his heel into the table. The guard in the corner rushed to the doctor’s side.
    â€œI’m all right.” Then, addressing Arson, he said, “Please don’t be frightened by me, Stephen. I’m not here to cause you any harm. All I want is to help. But you’re in control of all of this. You must not let yourself become a slave to these irrational behaviors. Let me help you.”
    He appeared sincere, but Arson wasn’t able to fully trust his senses. Any of them. Not yet. How did he know they weren’t messing with him? That this wasn’t some kind of conspiracy? The fact that he couldn’t smell right or even taste anything in his mouth, apart from something bitter, was strange enough. Every sound was a piercing drum-beat pounding against his skull. His chest and stomach ached. It felt like a hole had been made right at the center of him. “Was I cut?”
    â€œThe wounds you carry are self-inflicted.”
    A wave of perplexity flooded Arson’s mind. Hearing the doubt in the doctor’s voice troubled him. He wanted to scream. “Is this a nightmare? A bad dream or something?” he asked.
    â€œNo. It’s quite real.” Carraway let reality do some work before continuing. “My efforts are to secure your safety. To bring you back home. I can free your mind from the burdens and the strife you carry. You don’t want them. You don’t need them.” Carraway’s voice was a whisper. “We’ve gotten quite close during your time here. Can’t you remember?”
    Remember? No, I can’t , he thought. I can’t remember anything after I exploded and tore the flesh from their bones. I can’t remember anything except her face.
    â€œI’ll try,” Arson said.
    â€œGood. I know you better than you might even know yourself. You can trust me, Stephen.”
    The more he called him by that name, the more it seemed to sting. He wasn’t Stephen.
    A slight flinch disrupted Carraway’s posture. He slid his