P H O E N I X

My therapist's office was pretty big. It had a large desk on one end of the room and a sofa on the other. An assortment of long leafed plants were spread around the space in attempts to give it more of a homey feel but the only thing they achieved was projecting how they hadn't been watered in a while.

A small table and another chair were placed in front of the sofa which Dr Meyer had told me to get comfortable on as she dealt with something outside her room. In that time I'd focused on a spot of dust on the table, still unsure about how I was feeling about all this.

"Sorry about that." Dr Meyer said as she came in and took her seat on the chair. "Let's get started. First of all, would you prefer I call you Phee or Phoenix?"

I shrugged.

"You do have a rather beautiful name. Does it hold any significance in your family?"

"I was named after my great grandmother."

"Of course." She jotted down something on her clipboard as the small talk came to an end before setting it to one side and diverting her full attention to me. "I understand that you're here because of your brother's recent death-- how has that been for you?"

My throat constricted and suddenly my tongue was too large for my mouth. "People die. It's the way the world works." I said, channelling my inner Kat to help me get through the hour.

"Your relationship with your brother was not well?" She assumed.

I shook my head. "We were fine, best friends even. I just don't see the point of thinking about someone that's never going to come back." That was a lie. All I did was think that by now it had probably become my fatal flaw.

"It's alright to miss someone you've lost, Phoenix." My name on her tongue sounded strange, like it didn't belong there and looking around the room, at the wilting plants and awards on walls, I realised I didn't belong there either.

"I know." I said quietly, taking in a deep breath. "Sometimes, I see him in my dreams. Other times in reality."

"Hallucinations?"

"More like an overwhelming sense of deja vu."

"Could this be achieved by substance use?"

"I don't know." And it was true. Sometimes you can't differentiate between what's real or not when you're high. "A week ago, the bath taps weren't working. I really needed to shower because I'd just come back from track tryouts. I was sweating, tired from the heat." I chuckled to myself, thinking back to it. "I called his number. It went to voicemail."

"What did you say to him?"

"That he needed to come fix the bath taps." I looked at Dr Meyer. "Then I hung up."

"Do you often leave messages for your brother?"

"Only when I'm thinking too much." I realised the room only had two small windows despite its large scale. The view outside of one of them showed the chip shop on the street across the road. The 'c' was close to falling off so you read it as 'hip shop'.

"Perhaps this is your way of communicating with him. It's not uncommon for those who've experienced a tragedy to reach out to the ones they've lost. Whether it be through prayer, going to church, visiting a psychic, it makes the person feel connected."

"So I am going crazy." I deadpanned.

"I wouldn't call it that."

I got up to go to the window, arms crossed over my chest. Dr Meyer's office was on the tenth floor, overlooking a good part of the town. If I turned a little to the right, I'd see the exact spot the accident took place. There was no more yellow police tape or an ambulance and paramedics parked at the site. In fact, there was nothing there. Like it had never even happened. And I thought where I would be if it hadn't. Would I be in this office for another reason? Would I be at the Blitz with Jay? Would I even be working there? One thing I knew for sure, was that I wouldn't be feeling this crushing sense of numbness.

"The taps were fine." I said after a long silence. "I was turning them the wrong way."

-

That night was the first time my family and I sat down for a meal together. Granted there once used to be six plates out instead of four, the simple act of having dinner now felt abnormal. Like we were all tip-toeing over glass and the smallest noise could break the unsettling silence.

My mom was the first. "How was counselling?" She asked. It sounded better when put like that. Maybe because saying therapy would be like admitting that there was something wrong. Which was completely useless since the two words held the same meaning.

The scraping sound of knives and forks collectively came to an end as they waited for an answer. Even Ethan, with his newly dyed blue hair, stopped eating to stare at me.

"It was fine." I said curtly.

"I've heard Dr Meyer's is one of the best in the country."

"That's what Dr Andrews said too." I smiled, though it came out too forced. "Tell me, what other things have you been discussing behind my back?"

"We're not the enemy here, Phoenix. This will be good for you."

"I don't need therapy, mom." I sighed.

"It's not just you. I've also been thinking of enrolling Kat in a few sessions. It'll give you girls a chance to talk things out. Phoenix, I know it's been difficult these past few months, what with the accident and you feeling the need to rebel against everyone--"

My blood flared at that, knowing that she was referring to the tattoo I'd gotten the week after Matt's death. I wasn't drunk. But I wasn't sober either. "That's not the reason."

I pursed my lips into a thin line. No matter what she said it still seemed like she didn't understand. Why did we need to have an external party to talk to about our problems when she was right there? And the worst part was that I justified that, keeping up with the avoidance game.

"There's no harm in giving it a try." She sipped on her wine glass which I'd replaced the other day. "Ethan, don't slouch when you're eating."

He remained in that position until she shook her head and turned towards Kat. "And you. No phone until the blue comes out of his hair."

Her jaw hit the floor as she exploded. "That's not fair!"

"You should have thought of that before turning your brother's hair blue."

"He was the one that put a slug on my pillow." She muttered bitterly whilst simultaneously shooting death glares at Ethan's snickering.

My mom rubbed her temple before turning to her son. "If this carries on, you won't have anyone to take you to soccer practice anymore." That made him shut up instantly.

The rest of our dinner went on in mild silence. No one brought up any other subjects which was a relief. We finished on a slightly bitter note, with Kat putting the dishes away with more force than needed.

My mom didn't seem to notice, getting out a bottle of wine whilst I held my breath. She poured herself a glass, not giving a second glance to the bottle and only then I relaxed my shoulders. I couldn't wait to get out of there but my mom had other ideas. After sending Ethan to his room, she summoned both Kat and me into the living room. We shared a look as we did as told, wondering what this could be about.

She set her wine glass on the coffee table. I looked everywhere but at that. "My firm will be undergoing a partnership deal within a few months time and there's a formal party being held for introductions. They've allowed us to bring guests and I was wondering if you two want to go with me." She finished off, looking between Kat and I.

"When is it?" Kat spoke up which shocked me a little.

"The 25th. It's on a Friday night as well so it won't interfere with school. And there are kids your age so you shouldn't be too bored."

"Cool," She shrugged and I was still staring at her. It took me a while to realise that they were both waiting for a response from me.

"Uh yeah, sure." I answered.

Mom seemed satisfied by our cooperation and turned her attention to the news, signalling the end of the conversation. Kat didn't waste any time loitering around, shooting up the stairs and to her room.

"Why do you want to go?" I asked just as she was about to turn in for the night. "Going to formal parties is hardly your sort of thing."

Her hand stilled on her doorknob and she shrugged. "I don't know. First time for everything."

The nagging feeling was still there when she disappeared into her room but I shook it off as nothing. Lately, I'd been doubting Kat more than ever and honestly I was getting tired of it.

In my room, all my music gear was out from where I'd left it, including the pioneer I'd received on my birthday. I put on my earphones, muting all other sounds around me and turned to my laptop. An empty Google tab was open along with another-- of the same article that Kaden had destroyed the other night.

When he found out that I had it, I had to admit, I was afraid of what he might do. Just for a second. Then I swallowed down that fear when I realised that the article could have caused him more pain than me. Even going over it now filled me with guilt.

I scanned the headline once again with my hands folded over each other and my chin resting on top.

'CIVILIAN CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE' it read.

Below it was a picture of Jane Mordecai. The same picture that I'd see in the Stonecrest High yearbook if I were to look through it. She was Valedictorian before she died, did her fair share of charity work and the kind of person all parents wished their children would turn out like. That same golden girl was now buried in the ground. All because of a misunderstanding. At least that's what the journalist reported it as.

A drug deal gone wrong and she was unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. How her brother was involved was something I couldn't get my head around at the time. I didn't know Kaden all that well back then. He had always been somewhat of a social recluse yet that still hadn't stopped me. From admiring him from afar because I was too much of a coward to admit my feelings.

I remembered a couple months before the shooting. He would come into school with bruises under his eyes and a temper to match. Seeing the cops hanging around was an everyday thing. Being pulled out of class was a normality and that was if he even attended. I remembered it all, much too awake at the time that it seemed like a vivid dream. Before my lips became permanently stained.

Unlike his sister, he was very much the opposite of her. Supposedly involved in a gang that ended up in the location where his sister's life was taken. Rumor had it that it was the slip of the hand that pulled the trigger. Not intended for anyone other than the target but hit her instead. Two brothers were jailed for the crime, the Miller's, who allegedly initiated the whole attack. Having been involved in many other illegal activities, the case that was built against them was rock solid. The shooting was the last straw, finally putting them behind bars.

I couldn't help feel that Kaden would have had the same fate had he not been a minor. Instead, he was sentenced to a year in juvie before he and his parents up and left. I guess I would have done the same if I was in their situation. My daughter shot dead and a son that could have possibly been the cause of it.

The Miller shooting was a sort of wake up call for our town. A reminder that bad things happen. That sooner or later, even a small town like ours would get mixed up in the mayhem. Nothing could stay hidden for long.

Sighing, I closed the tab and deleted my history. My headphones were silent since I hadn't played anything. I stayed like that, thinking back to what I told Kaden that day on the beach.

The past is in the past.

I wondered if the only way I could move on from my past was through a bottle and some aspirin. Then I saw how my hands were empty and let myself smile.

Maybe not.