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“We have group therapy to welcome our new girl. Nurse Drew asked us to meet in the common room in a few minutes,” I blurted. He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair and clenched his defined jaw. His face reddened slightly in annoyance, but he blew out a breath and nodded.

That was enough for me to turn and run away, back to the others who were waiting in the common room.

So was curiosity.

What would we find out about Harlow? Was she just as fucked up as the rest of us?

ChapterFour

Harlow

Monday Evening

Group Therapy

We all sat awkwardly in a circle, waiting for the doctor who would lead our group therapy. For a room that was supposed to be for healing and sharing, it wasn’t exactly neutral. The walls were painted a bright, sunny yellow. There was an attempt at art on the wall but from the even brighter squares and empty nails, someone had removed most of it. Wooden chairs awaited us when we had walked in and the others flocked to them out of habit.

My body still ached from tension, and every time I shifted, my thighs and core ached. I was clearly bruised and hoped it would heal quickly. I had enough to deal with here. The last thing I wanted to do was be here talking about my fucking feelings.If I started talking, I was afraid everything would spill out, and where would that put me?

Shadows pulled at my vision, filling in any dark spaces in the room. Usually, I would go days without visions when medicated, and I couldn’t fucking wait to have my first meeting to figure those out. But with the stress of coming here and meeting Dr. Vane, well I had a feeling I might as well get comfortable with the bastards.

“Alright, thank you for coming today. We thought it might be helpful to ease Harlow into things,” a man said as he came in. He was dressed in khakis and a sweater and had a smile that reminded me of Mr. Rogers. His gray hair and wrinkles paired with it almost made him seem approachable. It was the strange, manic look in his eyes that made me second-guess that vibe.

“Aw, it’s time to share,” Monty drawled from outside our little circle. He skulked around us, like a shark circling a raft. My eyes narrowed on him, and he stopped. “Why the cold shoulder?”

“I called for you,” I muttered quietly.

“What was that, Harlow?” Dr. Bradley asked with a smile. I glanced up at him and shook my head.

“Nothing,” I uttered. Monty refused to answer my question so I focused on the group instead, cringing as I realized all eyes were now on me again.

“Well while the attention is on you, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” What was this, preschool? What the fuck was I supposed to say? Oh hi, I’m Harlow. Exorcism survivor, and I’m crazy as fuck. I see shit that would make a grown man pee his pants. And I talk to myself often. Well not myself but you won’t see them, so it doesn’t make a difference.

Yeah, fucking right.

“I’m Harlow. I have schizoaffective disorder, so I see and hear stuff that you won’t. I refuse to say it’s not there, it’s real for me,” I said. The tone was sharp but he didn’t falter. Instead, he seemed almost understanding.What a crock of shit.

Don’t let your guard down.

“He’s a sweet old man,” Monty said as he leaned in, sniffing the man like he was ready to take a big bite out of him.

“The way you look over people’s shoulders freaks me out,” Layne stated.

That got a frown from Mr. Rogers himself.

“Layne, we don’t talk disrespectfully to our peers. We all have our own battles to fight. This is Harlow’s and we respect her for that.”

“Sorry,” Layne added, rolling her eyes. From the personality I’d seen in her so far, I was a bit surprised she even bothered with an apology. But he seemed appeased, nonetheless.

“Well we are pleased that you could join us Harlow. As you know now I’m sure, we do daily group therapy during the week. Weekends are your time to yourself but we always have staff if you need a one-on-one session. This is your safe space to share. We left off last week talking about defining moments, and finding the good in them to move forward.”

“Yeah, Drake was telling us how he killed a man for trying to mug him at gunpoint,” Layne said excitedly. Her entire body language went from indifferent to eager, and she was gripping the seat as she leaned forward to study the man who was still a mystery to me.

My eyes widened at that. Drake let out a grunt of annoyance at having the attention flock to him. When he raised his gaze from the floor and met mine, the entire world seemed to freeze. Terror pulsed at the edges, and his green eyes were startlingly vibrant as he locked in on me. It felt like he was ripping apart my soul. Monty said something, but I ignored him, unable to look away.

“Stop!” Monty’s scream was loud enough I gripped my ears and curled in on myself. It was echoed by disembodied screams that pulsed in my ears despite covering them. Fear shuddered through me, surging through my veins and making my heart pound in response. My own screams soon joined theirs until my throat was raw and hoarse, the sounds overwhelming enough that I couldn’t see or think to do anything else.

“What did you do to her?” Crew demanded on a growl. I felt someone’s hands on me which had me backing out of my chair, moving away and across the room.


Tags: Jarica James Paranormal