I feel the exhaustion creeping down. It never creeps up. It starts with my mind. A vise takes over. Trauma after trauma fills my head, until it is so heavy I am afraid it will fall off. I chuckle a little, imagining my head falling right off into a client’s lap. I am numb. I take home pain that is not mine to heal.
I saw Frisco watching me. I secretly don’t mind he stalks. I feel safer. I think no one can get to me as long as he is there. His a twisted tree trunk. I climbed in the branches and got stuck. I don’t want to get out anymore.
I get up to check the window, just to make sure my dark knight is outside, waiting and worrying. Instead a see a boy. A young man. He is watching. My heart stops. I know this face…I have seen it once. My heart knows my blood. This boy can never know what caused him, he can never know where he came from. I tried to save him, but I destroyed him just by letting him be born. Who will take my pain away? Who will listen to me? Who can help me now?
“Ms. Cabot? Are you alright?” my assistant looks at me in wonder.
“I’m fine. What is it?” I sound like cold steel. I cut her. She flinches.
“It’s not important…I just…wanted to tell you that your last client of the day is here.”
“Which one is that?” who recognize them by their problems, their fate, their choices. Karma rules the world with an unfair fist and we judge the victims for it.
“The girl whose boyfriend was prostituting her out while she was pregnant?” She whispers the words, as if they were too loud would make them real and true. They already were.
“Yes, please, send Whitney in. Thank you”. I close my eyes and grief starts flooding my lungs. People don’t understand how you can damage a child in the womb. What happens to that baby can cause damage. We are all damaged people, walking around, trying to find a norm. The world is a cruel and unfair ruler. I cannot fight the world. I have already lost.