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    Nephylim
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Enigma II. Fighting the Man - 37. Chapter 37 - The Assessment

SILVER

The last few days have been hard, harder than I thought they would be. I suppose I hadn’t realised how much I’ve changed. It seems like even the small things are hard for River. We were watching a programme on the television last night, about policemen investigating crime. There were a couple of episodes and I was really enjoying them although River kept looking at me in a strange way. Then a new episode started and it was about prostitutes on the streets. River got freaked out and was going to turn it off. By the time I calmed him down and told him it was okay, half the programme had finished.

And then there was the whole thing about the doctor’s appointment. He didn’t tell me about it until yesterday. And then he told me as if it was going to break me. I don’t mind going to see a doctor if it helps get Ben back. It’s a doctor called a psychiatrist, not one who is going to do anything scary. I’m just going to talk after all. But he got so worked up and upset. The worst thing was that he seemed to be disappointed, when I wasn’t.

Something has happened that I never expected. River and I have always been so close. That’s one of the things I missed so much. Sometimes it was like we knew what each other was thinking and now... It seems like there’s a barrier between us and no matter what I do I can’t break through it. He keeps looking at me with a sad expression on his face and I don’t know what to say to make it better.

And he keeps smothering me. He’s trying hard but sometimes it feels as if he doesn’t think I have a mind of my own and he wants to keep making decisions for me and telling me what to do. I know that before I needed it but he doesn’t seem to see that now I don’t, well, not so much. And whenever I talk about Ariel, or Asher, or the others that look of sadness is even worse. I try not to speak of them now but I keep thinking about them and my thoughts just slip out in words. I’ve never been good at hiding things.

I feel as if I always have to think about what I say before I say it and, even then, I keep hurting him without meaning to. It’s so hard and it makes me tired. I am so, so tired. Tomorrow is Asher’s funeral and I swing between really wanting to go, to say goodbye properly and see all my friends again, and not wanting to be within miles of it. I don’t know if I can bear it. It would be alright if River was there for me but although he’s going, he won’t be.

The psychiatrist’s office isn’t what I expected. The building is nice enough, old but neat and clean. There is a large bay window at the front and a well kept garden. The gate is open so we walk up the drive.

The front door is large and red with a huge gold knocker and a chunky knob of a door handle. On the wall at the side of the door a shiny brass plaque announces the offices of Dr Belinda McNally MBChB MRCPsych MSc DipCBT. Quite a mouthful... or more technically an eyeful as I don’t attempt to read it out.

I raise my hand to knock but River’s already tried the door and it opens into a waiting room. Ah well. There is a woman in a neat suit sitting behind a desk and, when I give her my name she checks it on the computer and smiles at me, asking me to take a seat.

River is nervous, very nervous. He shuffles his feet and tugs at his shirt sleeves. He keeps looking at me with a worried expression on his face and, after about ten minutes he gets up and starts walking around.

“River, will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m sorry,” he says anxiously. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, River.” I say mildly. “Don’t worry about me. Just sit down and chill out.”

He gives me a strange look and sits down. I am remarkably calm. Even I am surprised. The fact is that I don’t care about these things as much as I used to. After everything that has happened lately, it’s hard to be worried about anything. What could possibly be worse than having your lover die in your arms... twice in a way?

I lean back and close my eyes thinking of Asher. I remember the time we went shopping with Ariel. I learned a lot that day. I think that was the day I changed most, in appearance if nothing else. I can’t help but smile and my hand unconsciously rises to my hair and twirls a vivid red strand around my finger.

“What are you smiling about? I thought you would be really wound up today.”

I look at River. He is smiling. I have a tiny guilty start, when I realise that I have been thinking of Asher while River was sitting at my side. I shouldn’t be doing that.

“I was just thinking. I don’t get as wound up about things any more.”

“I know. I noticed.”

There is a hint of sadness in his voice, or maybe not sadness... wistfulness. I look at him and he gives me a little smile. It still does it for me. Okay I am worried about us, about the way things have been going since I’ve been back, but I still love him and being back with him is... hard but worth it.

I am brought out of my musings by someone calling my name. I squeeze River’s hand and send him a bright smile.

“Will you be alright here on your own? I think I’m going to be ages.” He looks a little stunned and nods blankly. “You can go get a coffee or something if you like. I can give you a call when I’m finished.”

“I... er... okay.”

Still smiling, I follow the woman; who waits patiently, smiling; through a door and along a corridor. She shows me into a room which is quite bare. It is nicely decorated with pale green walls and a thick dark green carpet.

The only furniture is a large desk with a computer on it and a comfortable chair. Really, that’s the only thing there is room for.

The woman invites me to sit. The computer is already set up, an opening screen inviting me to input my name.

“Just make yourself comfortable, Silver. Would you like anything to drink?”

“No thank you.” I say smiling at her and she gets that slightly glassy eyed look that I am getting used to now.

“Are you sure? It’s going to take a while.”

“Oh well... if I am going to have to stay awake I suppose a coffee would be good.”

“Of course.” Her smile is even wider. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black please.”

“Coming up.”

Before she leaves she shows me what I need to do with the computer. I look at the opening screen for a while, wondering what name they want me to put in. There was a time when I would have got confused and upset by this. Who am I? Matthew? Silver? Someone else? What about a surname? It doesn’t bother me now. I only pause so that I can choose what I want. I type in ‘Silver’ and go on to the next screen.

By the time the woman comes in with the coffee I don’t even notice her, and the coffee goes cold waiting for me. I am sucked completely into the questions the screens present me with. I am a bit worried about what the ‘right’ answers are but then I remember that the woman had told me there are no right answers, they are just so they can get a picture about the way I think. Good luck on that one.

Some of the questions are easy but others need some thought. There are some that take me more than ten minutes to answer. I feel that it is only fair that I give thought to my responses.

All in all the questions take more than two hours to complete. I know that the woman has come in a few times to check on me but I am too absorbed to care. When I finally answer the very last question, I sit back and wait. I am surprised by the way I feel. Quite calm still but strangely excited. The questions I have just answered, have actually helped with a lot of other questions for me. Somehow expressing what I believe, think and feel helps me to understand myself a lot better.

I am deep in thought and start when the door opens. I look up and smile at the woman, she looks a little startled.

“Finished at last?”

“Have I taken too long?”

“Not at all. People go at their own speed. If we were running out of time I would have come and hurried you up.”

“What’s next?”

“Dr McNally will take a little while to have a brief look at the data generated by your responses and then she will give you a call so that you can go and have a little chat with her.”

“Okay. Do I have to wait here?”

“Goodness no, this is a boring enough room when you’re working on the computer, we wouldn’t ask you to actually wait in here. Come back to the waiting room. If I make you another coffee will you actually drink it?”

I grin bashfully. “I’m sorry. I got carried away with the questions. I forgot the coffee.”

“That’s fine. I’ll bring another cup through to the waiting room. There are a couple of other people waiting in there and I was on my way to make some for them anyway. Can you find your way back?”

“What? All the way along that corridor and through the door at the end? I’m not sure. I might get lost.”

She grins and pats my arm then disappears.

There are three other people in the waiting room. River isn’t here. I wonder if they are here for the same reason as I am. They all seem to be together and one of them is definitely the child of the other two. They remind me of the people who were in the waiting room when we went to the case conference. Hell that seems like a long time ago now.

Actually, glancing at the man through the corner of my eye, I think that what he actually reminds me of, are the men who came to watch me dance. There is something in his eyes when he looks at me. Hell, maybe he did come to watch me dance. The guy is practically drooling. His wife/girlfriend/significant other glares at me and punches him. What fun.

I am glad of the distraction when the woman brings my coffee. I sit and stare at the surface until the woman calls out names and shows all three of the other people through the door. Then I sigh with relief and start to take notice of the notices and pictures on the walls again. There is a lingering scent of stale alcohol, sweat and tobacco but it doesn’t really bother me.

“Silver?”

I jump. I wasn’t expecting to be called so soon.

“Sorry, I was miles away.”

“Dr McNally is ready for you.”

I bet she’s not.

When I walk into the office the woman behind the desk looks surprised, but I’m used to that and it doesn’t scare me any longer. I’m still not completely sure who she is and why I’m here, but I know she’s judging me... again. Somewhere inside I feel that I should be angry with her but I’m not. It’s not her fault. I can see in her eyes that she is a good person.

She is quite young but she looks tired, tired of doing this job maybe. It’s there in the slump of her shoulders. She taps something into the computer and I sit and wait. Once, I would have been scared. I would have been confused and frightened. I am still confused but I’m not scared any more. How could I be?

Asher told me that if I get scared of people again, I should think what they could do to me that is worse than what I have already been through. Asher died for me. Nothing she can do would be worse than that.

She sits up a little straighter and her eyes open wider. I wonder what she has seen that interests her. She stares at the screen for a while but I know she isn’t reading. I watch her carefully as Asher and Ariel taught me and suddenly I miss them both very much. I can see that she is still very surprised but I don’t have the energy to wonder why, not right at this moment when I am struggling not to cry. Anyway, why should I care, she’s no threat to me.

At last she turns to me and smiles. It is a slightly stunned smile but warm nevertheless and goes all the way to her eyes.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I’m Belinda and you must be Silver... if you don’t mind me calling you that.”

I shrug. What else is she going to call me? “You can call me whatever you like, it won’t change who I am.”

“A rose by any other name,” she murmurs.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s a quote from a writer called William Shakespeare.”

“I’ve read some of his work. I’m not sure if I like it. His characters don’t behave like real people although River says that’s because people were different when he wrote them. I’m not sure if I believe that. People are people.”

“They are indeed, but sometimes they behave in the way they were taught to behave... by their parents, their families, the society in which they live, the people they meet.” I have to think about that... maybe later. “It’s an interesting argument – nature against nurture – how much someone’s character, the person they are, is there when they are born, and how much is created by the experiences they have, the things they are taught.”

I really have to think about this one. Lots of things crowd my mind... things I have heard, things I have seen. Yes I am definitely going to have a lot to think about later. I glance up because everything has gone quiet. She is looking at me, waiting. “That has given me a lot to think about.”

“I’m sure it has.”

“So what does it mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“The Shakespeare quote.”

“Oh ‘What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet’ It means that no matter what you call someone, or something, it doesn’t change what or who they are.”

“That’s what I said.”

She smiles. “Yes it is.”

I wonder when we are going to start the assessment. I have to admit that I am a little nervous about it, but I like Belinda. I think that she is going to be honest with me. Asher told me to trust myself, to listen to what me heart says about who to trust and who not to trust. River said a very similar thing to me... has said it lots of times. So I am listening to my inner voice and this time it is telling me that I can trust her.

“I think what we were just talking about is quite fitting to your situation isn't it?”

“Is it?” I’m confused now. What is she talking about? Ah... “Oh, I see. Yes, I suppose what people are wondering about is how much of what happened to me in my past affects who I am now, if it makes me dangerous. I don’t understand why they would think that. I was not trained to be violent, or to steal or lie or hurt anyone.”

“Can you think of anything at all that might make people think you are dangerous?”

“I think they are afraid of me.”

“Afraid? Why do you think they are afraid of you?”

“Because people... some people, not all people... get angry when they are afraid. Sometimes they hit out physically and sometimes in other ways. And they get afraid of things they don’t understand. I think they don’t understand me. I used to be afraid, afraid of everything because I didn’t understand... anything.”

“But you didn’t hit out.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like hurting people and...” I stop and think carefully about the question. It is something I thought about when I was with Asher. Why do I keep coming back to Asher today? Is it because he’s here with me, helping me? I would like to think so. But I really need to keep my mind on the conversation, “and because if I don’t understand something it’s not anyone else’s fault. It’s my responsibility to learn until I do understand.”

“That’s a very refreshing attitude. Responsibility is not a word I hear very often. I don’t think that many people think like that.”

I shrug. What does she expect me to say?

“Do you think you can talk about what happened to you?”

Wow, that one came from out of nowhere. Come on Silver, it’s not as if you didn’t expect to be asked it’s just... just... unexpected now. “Maybe.” I say thoughtfully. “I don’t want to, and a few weeks ago I don’t know if I would have been able to, probably not, but yeah... yeah I think I can.”

“What’s changed?”

“I think it’s because then I was scared.”

“Scared? What were you scared of?”

“Everything. Everyone.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t understand, like I said before. I didn’t understand people. I didn’t understand the world. I didn’t understand me.”

“And now you do?”

“No, not really, but I understand more than I used to, especially about people and about me.”

“What do you understand about people?”

“They are not all the same. There are good and bad people and it’s not easy to figure out which are which. Some people who seem to be good, who say they are doing good things, maybe even think they are; are bad, maybe very bad. Some people that are doing ‘bad things’, are good people, much better people than the others.”

“Can you give me an example of people who you think seem to be good but are bad or doing bad things?”

“The people who are trying to take Ben away.” I don’t have to think about that but maybe I should have. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, not here, not to her.

“Why do you think they are bad?”

“Because they judge us, with knowing anything about us. They won’t let me speak and when I do they don’t listen. They didn’t care when I was hurt and afraid. They said they were there for Ben, only thinking about him, but that didn’t make it alright to hurt me so much. I didn’t understand what was happening then, I didn’t understand them at all. They made me ill and they didn’t care. They made Ben ill and they didn’t care about that either. They didn’t really care what he wanted, only what they thought he should have.”

“What makes you think they don’t care?”

“Because of what they did, and because of their eyes. They eyes were cold. Even when they were smiling and saying they were our friends their eyes weren’t smiling and they didn’t tell the truth.”

“What did they say that wasn’t the truth?”

“They said that River’s aunt and uncle were good people and they’re not. They tried to take Ben from the hospital and they nearly made him really ill, he was so upset. And they hurt me. She looked at me and told me I was sick in the head, that I was evil. She made me believe her. And they said that I was bad because I didn’t run away when I was a slave. They made me believe that because I was happy then, I was sick and bad.”

“Do you think that makes you bad?”

Do I? I know I used to. I used to know it, not think it or believe it... but what do I think now? What do I say? The truth I suppose. “No. No I don’t think that it makes me bad, I don’t think it ever made me bad. I didn’t run away because I didn’t have anywhere to run away to. They took away the life I had before, took away the ‘me’ I was before and they made me into someone else. That was the only person I could be and that person didn’t know any other life, didn’t know that there were different ways to live, that people would hate me for the way I lived.

“I was safe and warm and happy... well after... when... towards the end. I had somewhere to sleep, was always well fed. I had everything I needed and I was good at what I did... dancing, singing, sex... there was no difference... it was all about art... my voice, my body. I didn’t know there was a difference. I didn’t know there was anything to run away from. So no... no, I don’t think it made me a bad person.”

She smiles at me and it goes all the way to her eyes. For the first time I notice that they are blue and sparkly. She doesn’t look tired any more.

“And what do you understand about yourself now?”

“That the things that have happened to me are not what made me who I am. I used to be very confused about that, about whether I am the person I used to be before, the person I was when I was a slave or the person I was trying to be, that River wanted me to be. I could never find myself in all of that and it made me... unsettled, scared. I think that’s why I clung so hard to the past, why I thought that I had lost myself forever in it... because that was the only time when I really knew who I was.”

“So who are you now Silver?”

I can’t help but smile at that. This one is easy to answer. “I’m me. Just me. I was shaped by what happened to me, yes and I will be shaped by the experiences I have from now on but... I am not the person I was or the person I am going to be... I’m the person I am right now and that will change but will always be true. I won’t always be the person I am in this moment in time but I will always be the person I am right now.”

“That is very astute.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It doesn’t matter, not at all. How did you learn all of this about yourself?”

There is something different in the way she is asking questions now. It’s as if she’s really interested in the answers. “I went home.”

“Home?”

“Back to the life I knew. I went looking for myself and I found him in a whore house.” She looks surprised, shocked and somehow I am compelled to qualify myself. “I didn’t sleep with men, although I almost did ... well, there was one but that’s not because I had to. That was... different.”

“That’s alright, Silver. I’m not here to condemn you, only to explore what you’ve already told me... who you really are. But as a matter of my own curiosity, what did you do there?”

“I danced. I’m good at that. Not as good as I am at sex but there really isn’t much difference.”

“No difference in what, your skill?”

“No... between the dance and the sex.” I have to grin at her face. “Now you’re the one who doesn’t understand but I don’t think you are afraid of me.”

“Maybe I’m getting there.” She says with a smile but I know she’s teasing. But for some reason I’m thinking of Asher again and it takes the smile away.

“A friend taught me not to be afraid of people. He showed me that they are all just people, just the same as me... lost, scared, trying to find themselves, to do the best they can in the world. I think that the most important thing he told me was that it is silly to be scared of people, when there is nothing that any of them can do to me that is worse than what has already been done.”

Suddenly I see his face and my throat closes but I feel that I have to speak, I have to tell her about him, about me and what he made me.

“It wasn’t easy and I fought him at first. But once I got it, once I realised that I am who I am and got my head around the fear and understanding bit... the rest was easy...” Or not; no, not easy.

“The other really important thing he taught me is that home is not a place; it’s where your heart is, where the people you love are. He told me that right at the end because he told me to... to go home.”

“He sounds like a very good friend.”

“He was. They all were. The best. I love them all. They are the most ‘real’ people I know. They are so generous in every way. They are beautiful and kind and loving and... they are the best friends that anyone could ever hope to find.”

“What makes them so special?”

“They would do anything for a friend, for someone they love. They would kill or die for me... especially die for me.”

“You sound very sure. How do you know that they would do that for you?”

I can’t look up at her. I can’t do anything but stare at my hands. I’m still wearing that stupid ring... the one he bought for me. I’m twisting it round and round with my fingers as if it can somehow make it right... bring him back. But that’s stupid.

I can’t sit here all day, with tears running down my face, playing with a bloody ring. I have to do something, say something. He would be so cross with me for being so stupid, so weak.

I raise my head, tears streaming down my face and look into her face as I manage to croak. “Because he did.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks gently.

“No. But I want to talk about him. Can I?”

“Of course.”

“He was a slave, like me. He was free too but he couldn’t live in the outside world. His heart brought him back to the people, the life that was his home. But he was strong. He was so strong, and he taught me so much. He taught me that there can only be love when there is respect and equality. He taught me to be strong by being strong himself, by showing me that we had come from the same place and I could choose to be whoever I want to because of it, or in spite of it, like he did.

“He told me that he had found his home, that he was as happy as he had ever been and he was. He made me happy too, for a while. But... but it wasn't my home. It was never my home. I knew where that was all along but I wouldn’t, couldn’t see, admit, whatever. I missed River. I loved him all the time and it really was as simple as that in the end. I decided to come back and he knew that. He knew I was leaving but he still... When... when he was... when he was dying he made me face the fact that my place isn’t there with them and it never was. He made me promise to go home.”

“And where is your home?”

“My home is River... and Ben.”

“What was his name?”

“Asher. His name was Asher... and I loved him.”

I can’t hold it together any more. He has been so close to me all day and now, speaking his name is just too much for me. She comes out from behind the desk and puts her arms around me as I cry out all the pain and confusion that has been building up in me ever since he left me.

When I get calm again she pushes the hair out of my face and hands me a tissue. “Are you alright?” I nod. I’m not ready to speak yet. “Have you been able to talk about him, about Asher to anyone?”

“A little. River doesn’t like to hear about him. He tries but he... he knows I loved him.”

“That must be hard for him.”

“Yes, it is. So I try not to mention him... Asher. I’ve talked to Sam a bit but I... I don’t think I was really ready.”

“Are you ready now?”

I think I am. For some reason I feel as if the place inside me where I have kept Asher locked away has been opened up and I do feel as if I could talk about him. “Yes. Yes, I really think I am.”

“Do you want to talk about him to me?”

“No. I want to talk about him to River. We’re going to the funeral tomorrow so I suppose it would be a good time then.

She smiles, nods and then goes back behind the desk. “Are you going to do the assessment now?”

She looks at me for a moment in surprise and then she smiles a brilliant smile. “No, Silver. There’s no need to do any more assessing today.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” Again she looks shocked, and then uncertain and then... she laughs.

“I can’t tell you what I am going to put in the report, Silver but I can tell you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about from me. You are a charming, sweet, beautiful young man and no matter what anyone ever tries to tell you never, ever stop believing that you are as good a person as I have ever met.”

Copyright © 2011 Nephylim; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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This chapter goes into my 'book' as one of the best all-around things that you have written, Nephy!

 

It comes near the end of the story and I think your timing is absolutely perfect. What it tells me is that though Silver has a very long road ahead of him, that road is ever so much shorter because of how strong a person he truly is. I am positive that very few could have overcome (assuming he makes a full recovery) the horrors that he has witnessed on himself and others. Just thinking along those lines makes me both sad AND happy-happy of course for how far he has come.

 

What a 'beauty' you are, Nephy! Thank you.

On 07/24/2011 08:33 PM, phana14 said:
This chapter goes into my 'book' as one of the best all-around things that you have written, Nephy!

 

It comes near the end of the story and I think your timing is absolutely perfect. What it tells me is that though Silver has a very long road ahead of him, that road is ever so much shorter because of how strong a person he truly is. I am positive that very few could have overcome (assuming he makes a full recovery) the horrors that he has witnessed on himself and others. Just thinking along those lines makes me both sad AND happy-happy of course for how far he has come.

 

What a 'beauty' you are, Nephy! Thank you.

Thank you. Silver is a beautiful character, you know how much I love him. He is strong, maybe the strongest character I have ever written. No one could completely recover from all that had happened to him... well, if by recover you mean to be 'normal' Silver is always going to be himself, extraordinary, simple, sweet and not understanding the badness in the world because he can't understand what was done to him and why. I think a lot of people would have internalised it... like Asher did I think... but Silver wears his heart on his sleeve and cant internalise so he moves on. How far he moves on will be seen later
On 01/29/2014 02:48 PM, Sonya said:
You've done it again. What a briliant chapter and I like Belinda she will be a good psychiatrist. It is good that he recognizes that River is not having an easy time but he is strong enough to talk to him about Ash.

I loved this chapter :worship:

Thank you. :) I modeled Belinda on a psychiatrist we instruct at work. She's absolutely lovely. Unfortunately she, too is in the minority among the toadying assholes
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