Not Dead Yet

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Authors: Pegi Price
Tags: Mystery
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aren’t real.”
    “Let’s talk and see if there is anything else going on,” Toni said kindly.  “Why don’t you tell me why your friend thinks you need to see me?  I know you came to see me once before, but as I worked you right in today, I did not have the opportunity to pull your file.”
    “It’s really nothing,” Theia insisted, picking at her clear nail polish.  “I used to be married to a man who was mentally ill.  When we split up, he stalked and shot me.  That was five years ago.  I’m over it.”
    “I remember your case now, but not all the details.  Does he still stalk you?”
    “No, he’s dead.  Shot and killed at the scene.  Look,” Theia said impatiently.  “That is all ancient history.  I don’t live there.  I refuse to wallow in the past.  That’s just not who I am.  I’ve worked hard and rebuilt my life.  I am happy and healthy.  My life is perfect now.”
    “Tell me about the nightmare.”
    “It’s nothing.  Really, this is all blown out of proportion.  I had a domestic violence case recently and it brought back some memories, and I had the nightmare again. Then I woke up but thought it was five years ago and that he had broken into my apartment.  I went looking for my gun, and finally realized I don’t have a gun anymore, and that I don’t even live in that apartment or that city anymore. As soon as I woke up all the way I knew exactly what was real and what wasn’t.  See, it’s no big deal.  I’m sure it will be fine,” Theia replied.
    “Is this a recurrent nightmare?” Toni asked.
    “Yes, at least it was, five years ago.  But then it eventually faded away to the point where I hardly ever have the nightmare anymore.”  Theia banged her foot repetitively against the leg of her chair.  She held herself carefully, to the point of being rigid.  Her spine was straight, chin up and face carefully composed to present a calm, confident facade.
    “It sounds like you’ve worked hard not to let this trauma destroy your life,” Toni commented.
    Theia rolled her eyes at the word “trauma.”  Words like that were for other people, people who saw themselves as victims.  “Working hard is one thing I’m good at,” Theia admitted.  “I don’t really have any talents or practical skills, except that I will work as hard as I have to in order to get where I want to be.”
    “Did you learn this from your parents?” Toni asked.
    “Is this the part where you want me to tell you about my childhood?”  Theia asked, deadpan.
    Toni smiled at her.  “You have done this before.”
    “A few months after the shooting I went to a shrink for a check-up.  I wanted to find out if I was messed up from it.”
    “What happened?” Toni asked.
    “After three sessions, the therapist told me I was fine, and that I should write a book.  She offered me a copy of her notes. That and my two visits to you, today included, are my grand total of visits to therapists,” Theia smirked.
    “You appear to have coped well.  How did you meet your husband?” Toni asked.
    “Ah, we’re going there.  Okay,” Theia conceded.  “I went to college eight hundred miles away from home,” she recited in a monotone voice. “My family didn’t think women should go to college or have careers, so I supported myself and paid for college on my own. During my freshman year of college, I was going to school during the day and working at the local hospital at night, drawing blood and working in the lab.  One night I was called to the emergency room to draw blood on a trauma case.  There was a new emergency room doctor, who came up to the lab as soon as the patient left the emergency room.”
    “All right, that’s how you met.  What happened then?” Toni prodded.
    “He asked me out on a date,” Theia answered.  “He showed up at the dorm in his red t-top Corvette.  I felt like a princess in a fairy tale, being picked up for a date by a doctor in his red Corvette.  We went out

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