and sit at the back while Dr. Carmichael sits across from me. He knows better than to try and talk to me.
I have to stay angry because the second I let my mind dwell on the fact that I am being sent somewhere weird with a bunch of strangers who could do anything to me, the panic and tears will set in. I keep telling myself to channel the hatred.
We take off and after about ten minuets of being bounced around I start screaming. “Why is it so rough? Something’s not right. We’re going to crash.”
A gray-haired pilot comes through and kneels beside me. “Miss Carter, we’re being held at this altitude by Air Traffic Control because it’s quite crowded today. I promise it will be calmer once the plane climbs higher.”
Dr. Carmichael switches seats and sits down next to me. I can sense he is trying to make eye contact so I just stare out of the window. We bounce around some more, my stomach starting to lurch again as I put my earplugs in and switch on my iPod. Yellow by Coldplay soothes me, drowning out the thrust of the powerful jet engines as they kick in. We bounce around some more. It seems to have gotten worse. Visibility through my window is non-existent and I cant even concentrate on the different shapes the clouds form like I usually do. I can feel prickles of sweat forming at the back of my neck.
“Sit forward, Olivia, and put your head down between your knees. It’ll help you. I’ve got a sick bag here if you need one.”
I hear him asking one of the attendants who keeps staring at me for a washcloth with ice in it. Why does he care? Why does anyone care?
It’s all getting too much and I’m about to break down in floods of tears. I’ll probably drown us all in them. I wince as something icy cold is pressed into the back of my neck. It feels absolutely wonderful. I realize how thirsty I am but don’t want to give in by asking for some water.
“Take some small sips of cold water. When’s the last time you ate anything?”
I grab the water and greedily start gulping before Nate Carmichael stops me. “Hey, slow down, Olivia. There’s plenty of water. Rush and you’ll get sick.”
I don’t answer him but I think I nod.
But then we break through the clouds. There’s the sun and the air is so smooth that it doesn’t even feel like we’re moving.
The alternating bouts of rage and sadness that I’d been experiencing up until now are starting to give way to exhaustion. Dr. Carmichael has started to grow on me and any attempts at putting up barriers hasn’t been successful. Probably due to him constantly coaxing me to have just another raspberry muffin, Hershey bar, or soda.
“Kiddo, why don’t you read the letter your uncle wrote you?”
I nod and feel my heart momentarily stop as he reaches into his pocket, passing me the expensive, copper engraved writing paper that Preston favors.
My darling Olivia,
As my own flesh and blood, you embody all that it is to be a Carter.
I have realized that I will never truly understand what addiction is like and how hard it truly is without being addicted myself, but regardless I feel like I have a pretty good understanding. That being said, I want to apologize for letting the frustration of your words and actions (and other factors, too, of course) cloud my judgement and not be fully sympathetic to your perspective. It can easily be overwhelming but I will continue to try harder for you.
I want it to be clear to you that I feel no shame about you whatsoever. I am so ridiculously proud of you. You have overcome so much that my achievements hardly compare. I am a true believer in the ‘everything happens for a reason’ philosophy and hope that your experiences will teach you strength and allow you to help others in need in the future.You know how I feel about certain things, maybe that is the source of our disagreement so I am not venturing into that valley. Instead I hope to be able to convey to you how I feel about you and maybe you will use your
I have to stay angry because the second I let my mind dwell on the fact that I am being sent somewhere weird with a bunch of strangers who could do anything to me, the panic and tears will set in. I keep telling myself to channel the hatred.
We take off and after about ten minuets of being bounced around I start screaming. “Why is it so rough? Something’s not right. We’re going to crash.”
A gray-haired pilot comes through and kneels beside me. “Miss Carter, we’re being held at this altitude by Air Traffic Control because it’s quite crowded today. I promise it will be calmer once the plane climbs higher.”
Dr. Carmichael switches seats and sits down next to me. I can sense he is trying to make eye contact so I just stare out of the window. We bounce around some more, my stomach starting to lurch again as I put my earplugs in and switch on my iPod. Yellow by Coldplay soothes me, drowning out the thrust of the powerful jet engines as they kick in. We bounce around some more. It seems to have gotten worse. Visibility through my window is non-existent and I cant even concentrate on the different shapes the clouds form like I usually do. I can feel prickles of sweat forming at the back of my neck.
“Sit forward, Olivia, and put your head down between your knees. It’ll help you. I’ve got a sick bag here if you need one.”
I hear him asking one of the attendants who keeps staring at me for a washcloth with ice in it. Why does he care? Why does anyone care?
It’s all getting too much and I’m about to break down in floods of tears. I’ll probably drown us all in them. I wince as something icy cold is pressed into the back of my neck. It feels absolutely wonderful. I realize how thirsty I am but don’t want to give in by asking for some water.
“Take some small sips of cold water. When’s the last time you ate anything?”
I grab the water and greedily start gulping before Nate Carmichael stops me. “Hey, slow down, Olivia. There’s plenty of water. Rush and you’ll get sick.”
I don’t answer him but I think I nod.
But then we break through the clouds. There’s the sun and the air is so smooth that it doesn’t even feel like we’re moving.
The alternating bouts of rage and sadness that I’d been experiencing up until now are starting to give way to exhaustion. Dr. Carmichael has started to grow on me and any attempts at putting up barriers hasn’t been successful. Probably due to him constantly coaxing me to have just another raspberry muffin, Hershey bar, or soda.
“Kiddo, why don’t you read the letter your uncle wrote you?”
I nod and feel my heart momentarily stop as he reaches into his pocket, passing me the expensive, copper engraved writing paper that Preston favors.
My darling Olivia,
As my own flesh and blood, you embody all that it is to be a Carter.
I have realized that I will never truly understand what addiction is like and how hard it truly is without being addicted myself, but regardless I feel like I have a pretty good understanding. That being said, I want to apologize for letting the frustration of your words and actions (and other factors, too, of course) cloud my judgement and not be fully sympathetic to your perspective. It can easily be overwhelming but I will continue to try harder for you.
I want it to be clear to you that I feel no shame about you whatsoever. I am so ridiculously proud of you. You have overcome so much that my achievements hardly compare. I am a true believer in the ‘everything happens for a reason’ philosophy and hope that your experiences will teach you strength and allow you to help others in need in the future.You know how I feel about certain things, maybe that is the source of our disagreement so I am not venturing into that valley. Instead I hope to be able to convey to you how I feel about you and maybe you will use your
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