I woke up feeling terrible, filthy, a little crusty around the mouth; fear crept into my skull as I laid nearly paralyzed on a recliner. An aroma hung thick in the air; of earth, sweat, dog crap, and a hint of Lilac. The former three were from me. Answers will come.
I had been out cold, indeed. Someone called my name as I was blinking the Sandman’s payload from my eyes.
“Francis? Come back to Earth, Francis.”
It was my therapist, Dr. Stuttgart; thank God. I didn’t know what to expect. A psych-ward, holding cell at the city jail, Heaven?
My mom hired Dr. Stuttgart shortly after my Grandma passed away. “just a precaution sweetie”. It was after hearing of my well-sauced performance at Sandy’s gig.
At the end of the party, already deflated and wet in the eyes from imagining my grandparents’ last day together; I thought about the last time I saw her smile. The last time I hugged her. The last time I could have paid a visit but instead I fucked around with my friends after school…
It broke me, I had a spell then, similar to what happened after Dino. But this had been more on the side of an alcoholic black-out, the party incident. No one thought much of it other than some drunken bastard who couldn’t hold his liquor.
Sandy didn’t know what to do. She tried though, I respect her for that. And I sure as hell wasn’t ready to label myself “mentally unstable”. Only my parents took notice of my supposed new attitude and asked questions. That’s when I had to start seeing the doc.