Captured Again by L.L. Akers

answered the question with a roll of her eyes; she so didn’t want to be here again, answering the same questions. This was a waste of her time.
    “Let me be more specific, then. Do you remember thinking you saw René and having a major panic attack?” Doctor White asked.
    “Yes. I remember that. Why do we have to dredge this up over and over again?” Gabby asked defensively.
    “What about after the accident?” he asked.
    “What about it?”
    “What do you remember about after the accident, Gabby?”
    Gabby’s eyes began to burn. She could feel her throat seizing up and her heart beating faster. She didn’t want to think about this anymore. Why couldn’t they just let her move on? Why did they keep picking at it like an old scab just on the verge of healing, only to be opened up again to bleed some more. She looked at the psychologist with pleading eyes, hoping for mercy. Her plea was met with eyes full of determination. She was going to have to answer this, yet again.
    “Okay!” Gabby blurted out angrily. “I remember! I remember seeing Jake crying tears of blood before I passed out. I remember coming to and seeing him on a stretcher, covered in a white sheet. That’s it. That’s all I can remember until I was home again, out of the hospital.”
    The doctor chewed the end of his pen, studying Gabby for a long, uncomfortable moment before the probing continued.
    “What about the funeral, Gabby? Do you remember the funeral?”
    Gabby stared off into space again, trying to clear the cobwebs of her mind, to grasp any string of a memory that would tie her back to that forgotten day. What kind of wife wouldn’t remember her own husband’s funeral? But she could find nothing—not even a wisp of his memorial curled up, hiding just out of sight. It just wasn’t there.
    “ No! I told you before. I cannot remember the damn funeral. What kind of wife does that fucking make me? A bad one? I... I’m... It’s—”
    “Okay, Gabby, calm down. That’s enough for today. I don’t want to upset you. You can go now. I’ll see you same time next week unless you need me sooner. Just try between now and then to piece it back together so we can talk about it.”
    Dr. White patted Gabby on the back as she rose and made her way to the door. Gabby wanted to brush it off, to let him know she didn’t appreciate having to come here to be poked and prodded into remembering this and remembering that. This remembering shit is making my mind flip somersaults. She just wanted to forget. Or maybe she just wasn’t ready to remember yet.

“O livia, this is bullshit. Why do I have to keep coming here?” Gabby demanded as she stomped into the waiting area before the door had even closed behind her.
    Olivia jumped up from her chair, where she’d been waiting for Gabby, her eyes an odd combination of sadness and hope. “Geez, Gab. Watch the language.” Olivia shot a sideways glance to the receptionist desk. Luckily, she was on the phone and didn’t seem to hear. “Anything new? Did you remember anything after the accident?” she asked.
    “No! For the thousandth time, I didn’t. And I don’t see why I need to. Why can’t everybody just let me deal with this in my own way?” Gabby argued while holding the door open for Olivia. “If coming here is supposed to make me feel better, it’s not working, Olivia.”
    Olivia blew out her breath, seemingly frustrated.
    “No, Gabby. It’s not supposed to make you just feel better. It’s supposed to help you get better. And you know it’s not optional. Until you’re fully released, it’s either come here and talk when they tell you to or go back into the hospital. You don’t want that, do you?”
    Gabby shook her head and turned to walk out the door, her frustration showing in her rapid steps. Olivia snatched her bag and hurriedly followed, just grabbing hold of the door before it shut behind Gabby.
    “No, I don’t want or need to go back to the hospital. I have to work,