Behind The Church

XXXVI

Christina

I woke up to the gentle shake of Dr Clarke coaxing me into consciousness. Remembering the dream I had just now, I am glad to have been able to escape from it.

"Good morning, Christina." Dr Clarke smiles.

"Good morning, Doctor Clarke."

"No need for formalities. Considering the fact that we are literally living together. Call me Connie."

"Is that short for anything?" I muse.

"Yes. My name is Constance."

"Constance? That's quite rare."

"It is." Connie nodded.

"What's on the agenda?" I ask, sitting up and groaning since these beds sleep like shit.

"Well, Kate called the other day and told me that she had visited your father in prison." Connie started.

"She visited him?"

I'm not angry. I'm rather impressed. She had the balls to go and face the man that has made her life, and mine, a living hell. I have a very respectable, admirable and brave woman by my side and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yes. And apparently he said he wanted to write you a letter. Kate called to see if that was a good idea. In my professional opinion, I think so. You might get closure from him. But I want you to make the desicion on whether you receive a letter from him. Do you feel ready for it?"

"I'd like to speak to Kate first. I want her to tell me how he was. How he acted, spoke and hopefully, changed. Until then, I don't want anything just yet. Does that seem right?"

"I think it's perfectly logical." Connie nodded.

"Yeah, me too. Can you tell Kate that, please?" I smile to the therapist.

"I will. Breakfast is on its way so you better get up and dressed."

"Five more minutes?"

"No, Christina. You need to be up and moving."

The truth is, I don't want to be up and moving. That's just something that I do not want to do. I lack motivation. I lack will power. And I'm not hungry, I refuse to eat food if its not made by my family. Because I know and trust them.

I groan, fall back into the bed and roll over to face the wall. I hear Connie sigh behind me as she sits on her own bed.

"Well, the hospital institute have allowed us to go out to a local gym for you. I know how important keeping fit is to you so we can go and work out together." Connie suggests.

"Work out?" I ask, hopefully. I slowly turn over to look at the doctor.

"Yes. It'll be just us and a nurse."

"Just in case?" I roll my eyes.

"I don't think it's necessary but the hospital does. We can't argue with that."

"Okay." I nod.

"Get dressed and have some breakfast." Connie says, motioning towards the bathroom.

I nod and find some clothes suitable for the gym. Some shorts and a muscle t-shirt. I get dressed, wash my face and brush my teeth, just in time for breakfast to arrive. I reluctantly eat it and I have to brush my teeth again because I don't like the after taste. It's something I do everytime I have breakfast, here or at home.

"Are you ready?" Connie asks, in a work out attire herself.

"Yeah." I nod.

Once at the gym, I start by doing a light jog on the treadmill for about fifteen minutes. Connie did the same beside me. The nurse just finds herself a seat by the door.

"How long are we in here for?" I questioned the therapist, who is becoming increasingly out of breath and sweating.

"Two and a half hours." she groaned.

After the fifteen minutes was up, I stretched my body out. I watch as Connie does the same. The same movements and the same stretches for the same amount of time as me. It's becoming increasingly obvious that she is copying me.

I start with the Lat machine. I can easily pull down a fair one-twenty. So I do sixteen reps before increasing the weight by five. Connie is on the same machine, only to my right. She pulls a decent fifty. Not bad, Connie. I watch as she finishes her reps and also increase the weight by five.

I do about three more sets before getting up and rolling my shoulders to relieve some tension, as well as swing my arms.

Connie finishes her final set, and repeats my actions. Rolling her shoulders and swinging her arms.

"Are you copying me?"

"Not quite. I'm shadowing you. I'm getting a feel for your workout routine." she explains.

"I see." I narrow my eyes as the doctor. She's always studying my behaviour. Something about me intrigues her and she feels the need to know every bit of my physical being. She's never told me this, but I see how it's going.

I started sleepwalking at sixteen. Mainly after dad was arrested. And she'd asked Kate to record it. So, everytime I slept walked, Kate would follow me around with her phone and once I had gone back to bed, she would send it to Connie. She asks for honest and frequent updates from Kate, in terms of overstimulating, meltdowns, shutdowns, all of the downs and ups. She keeps a red journal book that she writes in when I see her, it's red because that's my favourite colour. She takes note of my body movements, my gestures, face spasms, stim actions, my tone, the volume of my voice and the speed of which I may speak. By doing all of this, she is able to give me advice on basically everything but I still find it so strange that she's willing to go this length for me.

"Where to next?" she smiles at me.

I lead her through my routine and even taught her how to bench press safely. We left the gym shortly after a quick warm down and light stretches so we don't cramp.

When I get back to the hospital, I take a nice, warm shower and thought I'd treat myself to a comfy clothes day.

Connie sits on the other bed, already showered and dressed, ready to start a session. I get nervous even though she's been my therapist for two years. Opening myself up is difficult, and I imagine that Connie has some deep questions prepared for me. She wants to reach the darkest corner of my mind and flip the switch. But that shit's scary.

"You have a visit today." Connie informs me.

A visit?

"Who?" I lean forward on my bed, intruiged to hear who came for me.

"Esther and Marley."

"Not Kate?"

"No, I'm sure there's a reason."

"Surely. What time?"

"In about half an hour. I think we'll leave the session for later today. Esther said she had a surprise for you. She asked me to tell you that."

"She's sweet." I grin. My sister always thinks of me.