You seem happy, Rachel," Dr. Frey affirms while watching me with meticulous eyes hiding behind her glasses.

She sits in front of me in a cream pantsuit like nothing has changed. But everything has.

"I don't feel any different," I lie. I can feel the difference but it's scary. The happiness taking roots in the pit of my stomach frightens the hell out of me. I don't want to grasp it to have it run away from me like all the previous times.

"I can see it," she tells me. "It's all over your face."

I avert my eyes from her. I know if she looks into them long enough she might see the truth I don't want to acknowledge. It might leave me for good this time.

"I can see the fear, too," she continues. "Why are you afraid, Rachel?"

I shrug. "I guess Cassie was right. I'm scared of being happy," I reply in a small voice.

"Why do you think you feel this way?"

"Because it never last."

I'm right. My happiness is more volatile than alcohol on a hot surface. It's been weeks since that feeling has taken home inside of me. Yet, it continues to feel like an evading foreigner. It's here to take over everything and relocate the native inhabitants. In a case where the native inhabitants are hatred, pain, and disappointment, I don't know whether that's such a bad day.

"How was Christmas?" She asks.

Unknowingly, the words begin to spill out of my mouth.

"They had a party here. We exchanged gifts with our secret Santa. I got a Barbie doll." I laugh, remembering my surprise at uncovering the blonde hair doll under the red wrappings. "It was from Shawna, one of the older patients with mental retardation. Then, they gave us cake before letting us see our families. There was dad, Jenny with her little round stomach, and Cassie and her dad."

My smile drops, though, when my memories focus on that one person sitting at the table by herself. It was Hailey. She was one of the few patients who had no visitors. The ache I felt for her as I watched her from a distance somehow took away the veil from my eyes. Finally, I noticed the people who were there for me.

"They were all there," I say. The overwhelming emotion is stuck in my throat.

"How did that make you feel, having all these people here to wish you well?"

"Safe, I guess. Happy."

It feels good speaking from the heart. Dr. Frey pulls the candor out of me unlike Dr. Harris. His overly sweet and happy composure makes me wary of him. I don't trust him. I was grateful when Dr. Frey showed up. I needed someone to talk to with frankness.

"You just said you are scared of being happy," she reminds me. "How can you say you're happy now?"

I rub my tired face and stretch my arms. "I don't know. I just feel happy but it doesn't mean I'm not scared of it. I know there's a big chance that it's temporary."

"So you're not scared of the happiness itself but it's rather a fear of it leaving you."

"Yes."

She notes something down.

"It never stayed before so why would it stay now? I've turned a blind eyes to the possibility but I know it's there."

"What about Sarah and Kenny?" She asks. She's the only one besides myself I've ever heard give a name to the voices inside my head. Everybody else call them the demons, the monsters, or the voices.

"They're still there. I don't think they'll ever leave."

"Why is that?"

"Because they're a part of me. I don't think I will be whole if they in fact do leave me. They were right, I need them to survive."

She watches me silently before uncrossing her legs and move a little close to me.

"You're right." My eyes widen at her sentence but she continues with absolute coolness. "They're part of you but I don't think it's in the way you are thinking. Sarah and Kenny are both versions of yourself, Rachel. They are part of you because you created them."

"No, I didn't," I protest. "How can I create such monsters?"

"They weren't always monsters, were they?"

I lick my dry lips. The silence of the room is overwhelmingly new. Lately, I've been having these quiet moments more and more often. My mind goes blank like it's never been before. There are no voices, no screaming, only the silence to welcome me in its arms. I value those instances, they're the rarest and most precious ones of my life.

"No," I reply. "They used to be nice when they first began talking to me. They...they were..."

"The mother and friend you needed at the time," she fills in for me.

"Yes," I whisper. "They were so nice and friendly. They used to play with me and make me happy."

"Your mind created them, Rachel," she says. "It's not unusual for abused children to dissociate themselves with the outside world for self-preservation. Your dissociation happened to be one of the extreme cases where you created your own world and it became real to you. Sarah and Kenny's behaviors and words only reflect your own thoughts. They tell you things you think you need to hear but are afraid to say yourself."

"I know they're not real," I admit, "but they seem real so I act like I can't tell the difference. It's easier to not distinguish the reality and the fantasy world."

"Because the fantasy world is better than the real one."

I nod. "They're mean but they've always been there. They've always helped me and backed me up no matter what."

"Yes," she says. "Now, you are aware that there are others in the real world ready to take on that responsibility, to have your back through thick and thin. It's time to let them go, Rachel."

"Why do I have to?" I wipe frustrated tears from my eyes with the sleeves of the burgundy sweater Jenny had given me as a Christmas present.

"They're your safety zone. You'll never get better if you don't move away from it and accept the happiness that's being offered to you."

"What if I get hurt?"

"Then, you'll overcome it like the brave young woman you are. You don't need Sarah and Kenny to tell you how to fight your battles, Rachel. As long as you keep them tucked away somewhere inside of you, you'll always come back here because they represent everything negative about you. They keep you from seeing the positive but you refuse to acknowledge it because you're used to them and they're the safe way out."

"You mean the coward way out. Like Darwin."

"You're nothing like him. You're nothing like your mother."

"She's my mother, though. I must have something of hers."

"It doesn't mean you have to become her," she clarifies. "She may have given you part of her DNA but it's up to you to shape your personality and be the person you really want to become."

She moves back to her original position with the clipboard in her hands. She just watches me as I keep wiping my sweaty palms on my pants.

I'm beyond petrified now. She's asking me to take on a road I don't think I'm ready to take. What if I fail? What if I do end up like my mother? If I comply and let Sarah and Kenny go, who will have my back when everyone is gone?

"I can't do it," I shake my head. "It's too much."

"You have to, Rachel," she insists. "The pills and therapy cannot work while you're unwilling. The monsters are not holding on to you, Rachel. You're holding on to them."

I keep shaking my head. It's too scary. It's too much of a risk to give myself to the reality of life with no back up plans. I'd have to let go of everything I am and learn to be someone new. I'd have to face every curve balls that is thrown my way by myself.

"It's New Year's Eve," she changes the subject. "What are your resolutions?"

"I stopped making New Year's resolution a while ago. They never work out."

"I want you to restart," she says sternly. "It doesn't have to be something big. Establish a short-term goal and work towards it for now. When you've achieved it, make a new one. You can do this, Rachel. One step at a time is all it takes."

***

In the darkness of the night, I reach under the mattress and pull out the thin piece of paper I've hidden there since Christmas.

Dad gave it to me along with a walkie-talkie. A little old fashion but it brought a smile to my face. He told me to turn it on whenever I need someone to talk to. His line will always be on and available to listen. It's his way to ensure me that I will never be left out. He will always be there for me even with a new baby on the horizon.

It was tucked in the corner of a gift bag. I still haven't open either of them. I'm too scared to read what's in it. Most importantly, I'm mad that he didn't show up. I've been telling myself to let it go but I can't and I won't. If Cassie can come to me and give me a second chance, so can he.

My fingers touch the creases at the edge of the paper. The beating of my heart is the loudest in the room. Even Suzanna's snoring is drowning out by the frantic rhythm. I take a large breath and let it go slowly as I open the paper.

His handwriting has not evolved much over the years. It's the same chicken scratch but I can decipher it nonetheless. It's the one handwriting I can comprehend and distinguish anywhere it is.

My Rae,

I've miss you. I'm sorry for staying away for so long but I can't bear to see that place and know in my heart that I've had a hand in getting you there. I should never have done what I did 10 years ago. I was young, though. That's not a good excuse. It never will be. I came back to make it all better but I think I was too caught up in my own guilt that I forgot you've suffered a thousand times more than I did. I should have told you that I love you sooner but I didn't. I'm not yet worthy of your forgiveness but I will be someday.

I will redeem myself. I will wait for you and be there for you. I promise you.

Please come back to me, my Rae. Meanwhile, she will keep you company and remind you that there's always a reason to smile.

Yours forever,

Brandon

I reach for the gift bag. A bright smile decorates my face when I pull out the teddy bear. It's the exact same one he gave me before he left. Ms. Pickle, that was her name. The last one is still in that house, along with many other memories. It's fine. They can keep them. Their presence has tainted them anyway. I will make new memories that I will cherish forever.

On Ms. Pickle's chest, I love you is written in bubblegum pink. I giggle at the cuteness of his gift. There's a collar around its neck. I lift it up to see behind it. His words glisten under the cozy light of the moon, one more reason to smile.

I place my head on the cold wall. There's a soft breeze slipping through a tiny crack between the window and the wall. No tears are drifting from my eyes but I can feel the melancholy gripping me. It's not the usual sadness caused by the burden of the world but one caused by all the happiness I was too blind to see has casually been waiting for me during all these times.

I've spent so long trying to pick the monsters that are out to get me. I tried in vain to chase them away. I never realized my failure was because I was never facing my most terrifying monster – myself. I'm the sole reason for my sorrows. I created my demons and hid them in plain sight while I attempt to exorcise the harmless ones.

I hold Ms. Pickle tight along with the card. Tonight, as I drift off to sleep, I feel the powerful force surrounding me, defending me. My dad, Jenny, Cassie, and Brandon. They're all holding me and giving me a million reasons to smile.

It's my turn, now. It's up to me to slay my monsters and I intend to win this time around. 

There's only one more chapter left but this is the last one for Rachel. The final chapter of this book will be told in somebody else's POV.  It's someone I've been wanting to explore for a while now. Hopefully, it will be as good as it is in my thoughts.